West Coast Witch (15 page)

“Only if you follow mortal guidelines.” Damn, that smile of hers was infectious, even
if she was flashing fangs with it. “Pax is always open late, or early if you wish
to look at it that way, or perhaps we could visit one of the vampire bars.”

“Uh, no vampire bars, thanks. But Pax,” I said. “Pax is definitely possible.”

“Fantastic.” She said, and sipped at her scotch. “Would your gentlemanly upbringing
prevent you from allowing me to buy for the evening? You look like you could do with
a bit of worry-less time.”

“Naw, figure out that my entire existence is turned topsy-turvy, get attacked by a
vampire, have run ins with the Count of vampires in the Bay and the Alpha of the were
packs?”

“You met Finnegan?” She chuckled. “Oh, you do need some time off.”

“Yea, yea. I’ve been making my rounds and ticking off just about anyone in the supernatural
community who will take me seriously.”

“I’d hardly say that.” She chuckled. “You made quite the impression on Ishmael. He
likes you.”

“Seriously?” I arched an eyebrow.

“Yes, though I wouldn’t take it as a compliment. You’re interesting to him, though
he’s not sure what to think of you yet. Your intentions are noble, but…well, he’ll
see, and decide what you’re actually all about.”

“So, I’m the hot ticket. Great.” I couldn’t help but smirk. ”Just hang on for another
hour, and we’ll do drinks.”

“Fantastic.” Teresa smiled. “I’m going to take my scotch now and go somewhere quiet.”
She said, standing up from the bar stool.

It took me a long moment to draw my eyes away from her as she walked away. Damn, but
the woman was beautiful.

Terry noticed, and decided to comment. “Well, well, here I thought you were gay. Or
with that blond chick that helped you in Wednesday.”

I laughed. “Uh, no. Amy is… a friend, that’s it. And I’m not gay. Just because I haven’t
shown any interest in wo-“ I stopped myself. “I’m walking into that one, aren’t I?”

“Yea, kid, you are.” Terry chuckled. “So, who is she?”

“Her name’s Teresa. Apart from that, I don’t really know anything about her, besides
that she's a vampire.”

“Then why are you doing drinks with her? I mean, besides the obvious fact that she’s
caught the eye of everyone here with a Y chromosome.”

“Well, first of all, case in point.” I said. “Second, I never go out on dates. I’m
giving this a shot.”

“Well, just be careful. You know I like all you guys to keep well.”

“Then why do you put up with Jared and his flying off to God-knows-where?”

“Because Jared knows that I don’t put up with it, and that he doesn’t have long. After
this, I’ve got an excuse to fire him and hire a new bartender.”

It was at that moment I looked at Terry with a bit of a different light. I knew he
was smart, but that was just clever. Power to him.

“Well, I trust you, Terry. You haven’t steered the bar wrong yet.”

“Good. Now, let’s get through the last hour, so you can go drinking with that honey
of yours.” Yea, he was trying to get a rise out of me. It worked, too, and from Terry’s
face, he got a shade of red on me that he’d never seen before.

Jerk.

When I finally walked out of the bar at one-thirty, I had almost forgotten about the
drinks with Teresa. Almost. I saw her on the street, leaning against her sports car.
She still wore the low-cut maroon sweater, jeans, and her fantastic smile.
 

“Why, hello there, Eric. I have to say, the t-shirt and jeans look, while tried and
true, is a bit…ill-fitting.”

“Ill-fitting? It’s my work attire.”

“And you wear it well enough. I just think you’d look fantastic in a suit.”

I shrugged. “For what occasion? I work at a college bar most days, and when I don’t,
I’m not exactly the social butterfly.”

“Oh, I suppose.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief.
 
“I might just have to drag you out somewhere where I can test my theory.”

“Hey, just drinks, all right?” I said. “The suit, you can save for another night.”

“Spoilsport.” She said. “Come on, witch, let’s get going.” She said. I got into the
passenger’s seat, and she started to drive us towards Pax. “So, what did you go to
see Finnegan about?”

“Always with the questions, aren’t you?” I chuckled.

“I’m a curious woman. One of my better qualities, I think.”

“Modest, too.” I teased.

She shrugged. “Would you be modest if you were second in command of vampires in the
Bay?”

“I’d try to be.
 
Never let them see your true face. Always play things down, let them underestimate
you. Well, that is, until it benefits you to show that power.”

“My God, it’s like I’m really in Renaissance Italy.” Teresa shot back.

“I read Machiavelli when I was eleven.” I said. “And I re-read it every election year
for kicks.”

That got her laughing. “You’ve got to have quite the library.” She said.

“Oh, who needs furniture, a pad with a bedroom, and decor when I can have books?”

“And what about film?”

“I like most movies, but I’m a big fan of old stuff.”

Teresa gave me a little grin. “Why do I have the feeling you’re a walking history
museum?”

“Because I like to learn from the past, and I’m a bit of a geek?”

“A geek?”

I shrugged. “Yea, do you want me to start quoting Monty Python and the Holy Grail?
Or maybe Twelfth Night? I can do something like half the script from heart.”

“I think we can do without until I’ve gotten a couple in you.”

We reached Pax a few minutes later, and as we got out of the car, I said. “The joke’s
on you. I don’t get drunk.”

“Really?”

“Really. Got a cast-iron stomach. I get buzzed, not drunk, and I've never had a bad
hangover. Granted, I've never really tried to get uber-wasted, but it's yet to happen.”

“Well, at least the conversation will be lively. We’re in the same boat. I don’t get
drunk. One of the perks of being undead.”

“But you can drink?”

She nodded. “We don't need food or drink. Only blood, even if we can eat or drink
normal food by choice. The only way I can really get intoxicated is, say, drinking
the blood of one who is already drunk.”

“So, which one of you thought up the idea of blood cocktails?” I asked.

“Oh, that's been around since Rome.” She smirked. “Come on.”

As we descended the stairs to Pax, I immediately realized something. There was a distinct
difference in the Pax I visited Wednesday, and the Pax here tonight. Where it had
been loud and buzzing a few nights previous, tonight it was quiet and subdued. A corner
of the bar had been cleared away, leaving a small amount of space. Somehow, they had
packed a string quartet into the corner, which were playing. Where there’d been shouting,
loud conversations, now there was whispers, focused attentions, and tranquility.

The music, which I couldn’t immediately place, seemed like good dancing music, if
there had been any room to dance. As we found our way to a booth, I asked. “Who’re
the strings?”

“The Four Horsewomen.” Teresa whispered.
 
“They’re a band of Red Angels.”

“Red Angels?” I’d heard the name tossed around a few times in the papers, but they
seemed a mysterious lot, at least.

“Indeed. Demon spawn.” She said. “Not exactly bad lots, but they’re deceptively human,
for what nature lies beneath.”

“And what nature is that?”

“That conversation’s not really for the public.” She remarked. “Let’s just get our
drinks.”

We took a seat, and Sasha approached. “Ah, Eric.” She smiled. “You return, and with
quite the opposite of what brought you in a few nights ago.” She nodded politely to
Teresa. “My lady.”

“Sasha, dear, a cup of red, with vodka and pineapple juice?”

“Of course.” She nodded. “And you, Eric?”

“Do you have any of those werewolf lagers?”

“Oh, definitely. I’ll be back in a minute.”

I looked back to Teresa as Sasha left. “So, when you say a cup of red…”

“Oh, don’t you know it’s illegal to sell live blood in California? Not to say Pax
won’t. Synthetic plasma’s pretty distasteful, but it works. Although, when you mix
enough alcohol, the taste can get a little better.”

“Even if you don’t get drunk?”

“It gets us full, and we can taste it. It’s like Prohibition. The beginning product
is terrible, but once you mix in enough good stuff, the bathtub gin is bearable.”

 
Curiosity got the better of me. “And what about from the source?” I asked. “Live blood,
what’s that like?”

“Have you ever gone through a long day’s work, and just sat down in the shade, with
a nice cool drink?”

“Yea.” I nodded, thinking back on many a hot summer day growing up.

“It’s like that, mixed with sex. It’s fantastic, empowering, and absolutely delicious.
It’s indescribable of just how good it is.”

“Wow.” I murmured. Is that how Darius had felt when he’d drank from me? Fantastic,
empowered?
 
I bit my lip a moment, not wanting to think about it.

“It’s pretty great. Though I don’t get to do it often.”

“Why’s that?”

“We don’t take unless it’s offered. To do so is a crime for us. Now that we’re public,
every forced feeding is treated as a crime as bad as rape. You’re not an exception,
either.”

We got our drinks, and we started to sip as the band played. “So, besides being Ishmael’s
Number One, what do you do?”

She arched an eyebrow. “Number One?”

“Bad reference. Forget it.”

She shook her head. “Well, I act as the Bay’s... marshal, I suppose is the best word,”
she said. “I represent Ishmael’s word in all things, and will carry out justice in
his name when our laws require it.”

“And when you mean justice…”

“Think of me as Ishmael’s sheriff and judge.
 
When one of his has committed a crime that requires justice be dealt, I am dispatched
to bring them in. And, when Ishmael makes his sentence, I carry it out.”

“So, you’ve killed.”

“Yes, it’s part of being a vampire. What about you? Have you ever taken a life?”

I will add, for the record, that this usually wasn’t what I talked about on the first
date. “Would you believe that I'm nor much of a brawler? I mean, I’ve tossed a few
drunks out, but that’s nothing.”

She smiled. “Hmm, I suppose it’s not as common as it was back when I was young.”

“And when and where were you young?” I asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Not at all.” She said, and took a sip before answering. “I was born in the early
nineteenth century, in Brazil. Ishmael saw me as a girl with talent. He gave me immortality.”

“And so you’ve been following him around for two hundred years?”

“For the most part. We settled in San Francisco after California became a state. We’ve
lived here ever since. I’ve done some traveling, where I would leave for a few years
and go see some part of the world I thought interesting.”

I leaned forward, interested. “Really? What’s some of the places you’ve been?”

“Well, I spent two years in Paris in the twenties, I lived in New York during the
sixties…Oh, and I can’t forget the touring I did around England in the Victorian era.
 
That was right after Dracula had been published. Lots of little vampire hunters thought
they could do what the drunkard Irishman wrote about.”

“And did they?” I asked, now genuinely curious.

“There were a few of us killed.” She said. “There was one of them, quite an effective
hunter. His name was William Baxter. Baxter had a specific method. He had one of those
new-fangled bolt-action rifles, a German gun using hand-crafted silver rounds. He
took down three vampires in one night. It was astounding, to be honest. It was excellent
work. We’d never been faced with that particular problem.”

I found myself leaning forward further. “So, how did you take him down?” I asked.

“It all was rather simple.” She said. “I stalked him. It was really an interesting
study. I’d given it thought. How would I act, if I wanted to hunt vampires with a
gun?”

“And how did it end?”

“In the end, he couldn’t shoot fast enough. I rushed his sniper’s nest, and brought
him before the Count of London.” She said. “And…it was decreed that, for the crime
of killing so many of our kind, there was only one punishment.”

I blinked. Part of me told me to shut up, not to ask. No, I was too curious to resit.
“What was his punishment?”

“I turned him.” She said. “I made him a vampire. Then, he was taken into the custody
of the London Court's court, and forced to feed on rat’s blood for a century while
he was locked away. I imagine he’s only just started to adjust to unlife.”