Infernal Affairs (20 page)

“Nobody was raping me,” Mia said.

“Well, that’s good to know.”

“I wasn’t in any danger.” She kept staring out the window. “
Both
Patrick and Modred were there. Patrick’s my brother, and Mo has no interest in me. I have no idea what kind of person he likes to feed from, actually.”

“I don’t know what should be more distressing—the thought of someone feeding on you, or the fact that you’ve started calling a vampire Mo.”

“Patrick started it. We’d never call him that to his face.”

“I would like to see his expression if it happened, though.”

She laughed. “He’d be like,
Your modern slang confuses me
, and then I’d have to watch him play with his lip piercing for, like, the next thirty seconds.”

We both got out of the car. I set the alarm. “I know you can handle yourself,” I said. “I’m not daft. It just makes me nervous.”

“Why? Because they’re vampires? Or because I’m one?”

“You’re not a vampire.”

“I was infected with the virus.”

“Yes, but it’s always been dormant. And you’re on medication that regulates your viral load, keeps you asymptomatic.”

“What if I don’t want to be asymptomatic anymore?”

I stopped walking. I could feel a sigh building within me, but I pushed it down. I turned and looked at her.

“You’re old enough to decide how you want to live your life. If you want to become a vampire, I can’t do anything to stop you. But if you have one scrap of respect for me as a mother figure, even a half-assed one, then you’ll listen to me when I say—
don’t
. It’ll solve nothing and destroy everything.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I don’t know—maybe because your parents were killed by a vampire? Maybe because I watched a vampire break my mentor’s neck with a chain when I was your age? Or maybe because the
same
vampire who killed your parents just tried to kill you, less than a year ago? Personally, I think those are enough reasons.”

“Tess. Come on.” She glared at me. “You’re a hypocrite. You’re dating a guy who draws his power from corpses.”

“Vampires and necromancers are not the same thing.”

“Why? Necromancers are hotter?”

“This conversation is going nowhere.”

“My brother’s a vampire. It wasn’t his choice to get turned, either, but it was done to him. It’s made him who he is, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of, because there’s no shame inside of him. He’s happy, Tess. And he’s a vampire. You can’t do his laundry for him, pick up after him, treat him like your kid, and then say that all of his friends are bloodsucking half-lifes.”

“Your path isn’t going to be the same as his.” I put my hands on her shoulders. She tensed, but didn’t throw them off. “Patrick has the ability to live in sunlight. He can’t spend too long outdoors, but he can manage it for long enough to live a human life. If you were turned, you’d start smoldering the minute you walked outside.”

She shook her head. “That’s not totally true. Modred says there are, like, these artifacts that can protect a vampire from sun poisoning.”

“That’s a vampire urban legend. There are no artifacts that will protect a vampire from dying by sunlight. And it’s not like in
Buffy
. They burn for a long time before they actually die. It’s revolting. And, I imagine, excruciating, as it happens to you.”

“This is your scared-straight speech?”

“Yeah. How am I doing?”

“Pretty good, actually.” She laughed. “You do make some valid points.”

“So we can agree to disagree about this for a while?”

“I guess it would be more efficient to drop it,” she said. “At least for now.” Some of the tension had left her body. “But can we have a bit less vampire hating?”

“Agreed. We can even get a nice bumper sticker for the car.”

We kept walking, following the line of trees, until we came to the darkest thicket, where the Seneschal lived. I mean, he didn’t live in a thicket, per se. He lived in a small underground condo whose entrance was disguised by brambles.

“Why are we talking to the bird-guy again?”

“Because he may know something about what we found buried at the scene.”

“Patrick told me he’s like a Skeksi.”

“Do not say that to him.” I knocked on the door, whose outline I could barely distinguish from thorns. “Be polite.”

The door opened, but the entryway was vacant. I shrugged and walked in. The passage broadened, until we were standing in a well-lit den. The walls of the chamber were largely organic, but full of alcoves that, in their turn, were full of random things. Some of the things I recognized instantly as dangerous, while others were literally pieces of junk. The ones that worried me were the only half-broken pieces that were still quite powerful. I hoped that he kept a good inventory.

The Seneschal sat at a desk, which was new. He turned around in his Kirk-style chair. His eyes still resembled the blue of an acetylene torch.

“Door’s automatic now,” he said. “Easier.”

“What’s with the desk?”

“Writing memoir.”

I tried to keep my expression neutral. “That sounds fascinating. What language are you writing it in?”

“Several.”

“Good times. Well, we just came with a quick question for you. Something involving what you might call a broken treasure.”

The Seneschal gestured for me to come closer. “Let me see. Not everything is treasure, you know. Some things only look.”

“Why am I here, exactly?” Mia asked. “Not that here isn’t interesting. I just feel like a third wheel.”

“You’re here so I can keep an eye on you.”

“Really? After that whole
You’re a capable woman
speech?”

“I suck. You did say it yourself.”

“Deeply.” She began to walk around the Seneschal’s den. “This stuff is weird and interesting, though.”

“Is sold if she breaks,” he whispered to me.

I nodded. “Right. Here’s a reproduction of something that we found buried not far from here. It seems to be for holding something. Have you ever come across anything like this before?”

I showed him a digital photo of the broken container. He stared at it for a few seconds, then handed me back the picture.

“Don’t need.”

“I’m not asking if you need it. I’m asking if you’ve ever seen one before.”

He nodded. “Once. Was useless, though. Broken, like yours.”

“What was it meant to hold?”

“Memories.”

I blinked. “Can you be more specific?”

“For memories,” he repeated. “Don’t usually see them.”

“Why not?”

The Seneschal looked at me as if I were profoundly stupid. “Because they are on the inside of the body. That is where they reside.” He shrugged. “In general. But an accident might produce one like yours.”

“You mean—” I frowned. “We’re looking at someone’s organ?”

“Is more container,” he said. “But yes.”

“Do you know what species it might be found in?”

The Seneschal looked distant. Then he frowned. “I forget.”

I sighed. “Okay. Well, if you remember, you know how to reach us.”

He nodded. “Sure. You want something to take?”

“What—you mean, like a present?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He gestured at the walls filled with alcoves. “Take something. But don’t let the girl take the box that she’s holding right now.”

I ran over to Mia, who was fiddling with a small metal cube.

“Hey, there. Let’s just put that back on the shelf.”

“I’m not simple, Tess. I won’t make anything explode.”

“Those are everyone’s famous last words in my business. You can browse with me, though. The Seneschal said we could take something with us.”

“Cool. Like at the dentist.”

“This might be a bigger payoff than mint floss, though.”

We scanned the nooks and crannies filled with bizarre things, most of them in states of disrepair or shaky metamorphosis. We avoided the reptile shelf altogether. Finally, Mia spied what looked like a small brass teapot.

“What’s that?”

“I have no idea.”

“I kind of like it.”

“All right. That’s good enough for me.”

“Wait, though. You must know what some of this stuff does. Isn’t there something much cooler than this teapot?”

“Probably. But this is what you want. So it’s what I want.”

She looked at me. “God, you’re so lame sometimes.” But she was smiling. She handed me the teapot, which I put in my purse.

“What should we have for supper?”

“I was thinking tacos.”

She made a face. “Don’t let Derrick toast the shells. Make sure Miles does it. He toasts them so perfectly.”

“I’m sorry; are you seriously asking me to cause a full-scale tempest in the kitchen? I’ll do no such thing.”

“Aww. But they’re still good when Derrick toasts them.”

“He’ll be happy to hear that.”

We walked back across the parking lot. The car was exactly where I’d left it, which, although small reassurance, was still better than nothing. We got in, and I started the engine. I yawned.

“I’ll drive, if you’re too tired,” Mia said.

“You do a terrible job of hiding your eagerness.”

“Well?”

I hesitated. Then I handed her the keys. “I guess if I can trust you with vampires, I have to trust you behind the wheel.”

“You totally can. I swear.”

“Uh-huh.” I relinquished the driver’s seat. “But if we have to call roadside assistance, you’re definitely not getting that twenty bucks.”

It was Selena’s idea to take Ru for lunch. The
thought of him being in such close proximity to Basuram made her nervous. Plus, we’d let slip that there were actually more varieties of hot chocolate than could be found in the vending machine, and he was eager to try something new.

“I want the creamed whip,” he’d told me.

“Whipped cream.”

“Yes. That. Selena says it makes the drink better.”

“It actually makes life better.”

We settled on Caffè Artigiano, on Smithe Street, which stood in the shadow of the art gallery. Street kids gathered on the steps of the art gallery, smoking pot, laughing, and letting their dogs drink water from plastic thermos cups. At this time of day, Artigiano, and the sort of blissed-out yet caffeinated brusqueness of the environment, increased the turnover of customers. If anyone was going to try something in daylight, they’d have to think twice about engaging so many random bystanders, since foot traffic from Robson always choked up side streets like this one. The lab was still close enough to be reassuring.

Really, we all just wanted to stretch our legs. Ru spent most of his time watching TV in a nice but empty room. Selena was cramped in her office, and I kept finding myself squashed behind the wheel of a car, shuttling someone somewhere. I dreamt about each of the routes, remapping them, as I found myself endlessly drawn back to the lab and everything it meant. Everything that CORE meant, or would mean. Because, not for the first time in my life, I was wondering if I belonged there.

“How many languages are there in your world?” Ru asked.

“Over six thousand,” Selena replied. “Lots of dead or dying ones, too. Plus, there’s machine languages, and other sign systems.”

“What you do with your powers—is that like a language?”

“It’s more of a chemical reaction, as far as we’ve ever been able to tell.”

“But you’ve developed ways of communicating with the power. You can make it work for you. That seems like a language.” He looked around the café. “Most people here are speaking the same dialect.”

“The city’s predominantly English-speaking,” I said, “with a significant infusion of Mandarin and Cantonese. Also French, Italian, and Spanish.”

“English—is that what the language we’re speaking is actually called?” Ru laughed. “On Ptah’l, we learned it as High and Low Great British.”

“That’s bizarre.”

“It makes a lot of sense when it’s divided that way. Your sarcasm is difficult, as well as your words with humorous adjacent meanings.”

“Puns?”

“Yes. They are hard sometimes. We call everything like that Low Great British, so it’s easier to memorize the irregular words.”

I’d been waiting for the right moment to ask Ru about the vessel. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up. I was pretty much relying on Selena to mention it, but part of me didn’t want her to. I just wanted us all to have hot chocolate in peace.

Ru gestured to the people sitting around us. “It’s so easy to fool them. I don’t even have to maintain the shift in waveform that modifies my appearance. Nobody here notices anyone but themselves.”

“It’s part of our charm,” I said.

“But why haven’t they figured out that you exist? Your lab and your machines that analyze blood from demons. It seems so obvious.”

“Because,” Selena said, “some of us are them, and some of them are us. A lot of it has to do with money, unfortunately.”

“I like my chocolate, though. I think this is the best one I’ve had yet.”

“It certainly cost the most. But the barista did make a maple leaf out of foam, and you don’t see that just anywhere.”

“Ru,” I said, hating myself. “We discovered something buried. It was close to where we found you.”

He looked at me. “What was it?”

“We think it’s a container. Part of it’s missing, but we found a blue powder inside, which we’re analyzing.”

“It was on my hands.”

Selena looked at him. “What was on your hands?”

“Blue. I noticed it, just before I lost consciousness. Something blue was on my hands. But when I woke up, it was gone.”

“Dr. Rashid had already washed you,” I said. “Standard procedure in a morgue. It would have been rinsed away, along with any other trace.”