Three Immortals Walk Into A Bar...

Levant

These idiots think I’m going to go spend the night in a hotel with them? I told Gregor I’d talk to him outside, but I am not going anywhere with him and his power draining hands. I’d rather go back inside and wait here, as grim as that sounds. Maybe once I get rid of him I can find another bar, another dark corner to sit in. I’ll just have to text Maria to explain why I haven’t shown up in our dreams.

Clyde evaporates again, presumably to flit off to his hotel and have them put a mint on Gregor’s pillow. Those two seem like they are well on their way to becoming BFFs. Why on earth Clyde would have any interest in spending more time with this creature I have no idea. Didn’t he feel that when Gregor touched us? Isn’t he concerned about it?

Whatever. He’s not my problem. Although I would like to know how he does his disappearing act. I know he uses shadows like I do. Is this vanishing thing part of that?

Gregor says, “Shall we wait at the shuttle area?”

I glare at him. “I’ll wait with you until it gets here. I’m not going to his hotel.”

He sighs and starts walking towards the shuttle stop. A couple of hotel shuttle buses are there, passengers trying to crowd onto them with their carry-on luggage. I hate this crowd, so many people streaming out of the airport and trying to find someplace to spend the night, stranded here in Atlanta just like me. It is infuriating to be at the mercy of the weather and the airlines, just like these dull humans.

Gregor stands at the back of the crowd, since his shuttle isn’t here yet, and I stand near him. But not too near. I never want to be within reaching distance of this person again, whatever he is.

He turns to me to speak, still wearing the silly mask. “Do you really need to wear that ridiculous thing outside?” I grumble at him.

He shrugs and takes it off. “I suppose not.” Well at least I won one battle today. An insignificant one, but still.

He looks down at his shoes, looking like he is trying to control a laugh from escaping. Fuck him.

I cross my arms and glare at him. “What did you want, anyway?” I promised to talk to him, let’s get on with it.

He looks up at me and says, “Levant, won’t you reconsider your decision not to come to the hotel? I think you must realize by now that neither Clyde nor I have any intentions of harming you. Wouldn’t it be nice to just have a chat? Learn something new?”

Pfsh. No. I just glare, and growl, and try to pull some of the shadows out of the deepening twilight, the threatening dark clouds. It’ll be raining shortly, it is obvious, the wind is gusting around, the sky is an unusual mix of deep purple mixed with the dark orange hues of the last of the sunset, and the air is filled with an electric energy. If I end up getting drenched out here because of him that’d be just the perfect end to this perfect fucking day.

He bites his lip, again looking like he is trying to control a display of humor. “Well, how about if I promise not to try to talk to you all night? You could get a room to yourself, we won’t bother you at all. I know that you are injured, and that you don’t want to try to drink any blood to heal yourself, because.…”

My entire body tenses up, my ribbons of shadow begin to unfurl themselves, swirling around, as I both want to knock his head off his shoulders, but also don’t want to ever touch him again. I can guess what he’s about to say. He has some theory about Maria, and her blood, and my injuries, and I swear to god if her name passes his fucking lips one more time I am going to murder him. I’ll touch him just long enough to push him straight into oncoming traffic.

My growls are becoming so loud that other passengers are glancing at me, and backing away uneasily.

He can tell that he’s hit a nerve. He lifts his hands as though surrendering, but then glances at them and yanks them back behind himself. Holding his hands up is more threatening than conciliatory in my case.

“Look, please, just come along, get a room to yourself, and you can rest, without me bothering you at all. A good night’s sleep will probably do you a world of good.” He doesn’t try to speculate aloud about my injuries or mention Maria, which is the only reason that he is not currently being dragged underneath that bus passing in front of us. “Doesn’t that sound more appealing than spending the whole night here?” He gestures back at the terminal.

Oh for fuck’s sake. He’s so persistent, so irritating, and so right. All I have wanted all day is to find a way to sleep, hoping that Maria will be sleeping too and I can join her dreams. And sleep is the only way these bones are going to mend, unless I grab one of these passengers and take a bite, and Tepes has strict rules against that. We have to kill anyone whose blood we drink, but we also mustn’t attract attention. Murder in public attracts attention.

Murdering Gregor might be worth it though. He snorts and looks down. Is he still pretending to talk to a bloody angel? Ugh.

“Fine,” I bite out. “I’ll go. Just stay away from me.”

He nods his head and smiles, and doesn’t say another word, apparently demonstrating that I can believe that he’ll leave me alone.

When a shiny black limousine pulls up, not a big touristy shuttle bus, he silently waves his hand over to it, raising his eyebrows at me. Apparently this is our ride. Clyde does seem like the sort of ostentatious prick who would have a limousine for a shuttle. I plan to sit as far away from Gregor as possible. I move over to the back door, planning to let myself in, but the driver turns off the engine, opens his door, and gets out.

And I smell the stench, and see him unfold himself, a towering man in a driver’s uniform, with a big ugly brutish face, and a telltale crease right in the middle of his forehead.

It’s a fucking werewolf!

Gregor

I’ve pretty much given up on becoming friends with Levant. He is just so surly and unapproachable, and obviously utterly detests me. I suspect he would feel the same even if I hadn’t ever touched him. He is obviously not the touchy-feely type. Especially by me.

Wolk laughs at me.

But, I feel bad that he’s injured, and he has had a very tough day, much of it my fault. I hate to think of him just growling in the airport all night. I know he needs to sleep, and that he’ll feel better in the morning.

Besides, I don’t really need to talk to him to learn more about him. Wolk will keep monitoring everything, and fill me in on interesting bits of information. And I know that I have another vampire waiting who appears more than willing to talk. I eagerly anticipate that conversation.

So, I manage to convince Levant to come to Clyde’s hotel, and even manage to avoid being murdered by him, as Wolk tells me he considers several times. I’ve never been hit by a bus before, I wonder how long that’d take to recover from? Wolk rolls his eyes.

I intend to keep my distance, keeping my hands and my words to myself.

Until the limo driver gets out of the car.

Levant seems to keep up a fairly constant rumble of growling, no matter what is happening, but this is extreme. As soon as our tall driver stands up to open the doors and assist us to enter the car, Levant starts snarling and growling so intensely that a young child in the crowd near us begins to cry and rushes over to hide behind his mother’s legs.

Instantly, darkness is swirling around the vampire, and I see what looks like black ribbons curling open into the air, and I wonder what the other humans think they are witnessing? It’s fairly dark and windy out here, I suppose they believe it is just an aspect of the weather. But Levant is obviously enraged for some reason, and I’m worried that he’s going to hurt someone.

“What is his problem now?” I silently ask Wolk, starting to feel exasperated by this troublesome vampire.

“He dislikes the driver. Intensely.”

“Well, why?” I ask plaintively. “He can’t possibly know him, can he?”

“Not personally. He objects to his… species.”

I look at Levant, who is clenching his fists and looking ready to pounce, then back over at the driver. His species? I mean, he’s very large, with pronounced facial features, but he’s human. He had probably been planning to come around the car and open the doors for us, but now he is staying on his side of the car, watching Levant warily.

Wolk goes on, astonishment showing in the features of his man form, “He appears to be a werewolf.”

What? Oh come on! Those can’t possibly exist too, can they?

Clyde

Well apparently it was the right decision to follow the driver back over here, watching from the mist above. I just had a feeling that the other vampire would cause trouble. I hope to remain hidden, just observing, mostly to make sure that Gregor makes it safely to the Adabelle.

My instinct was correct. As soon as Fernando gets out of the limo, Levant reacts. Oh, right. Many vampires dislike werewolves, and now I realize that I really should have gotten a different driver. But this was Fernando’s shift, and he is excellent at his job, and assigning another driver would have caused a delay.

Werewolves are excellent for this type of job. Over the years I have often hired them as drivers, security staff, protection detail. They tend to be large, fearless, nearly impervious to injury, and extremely happy to utilize their skills for the high wages that I pay them. I don’t have the kneejerk negative reaction to them that Levant appears to be experiencing.

I am ready to rematerialize and intervene, but Gregor tries to get the situation under control. He sees that Levant is coiled and ready to attack Fernando. Gregor steps right next to Levant, glares at him, and hisses, “Don’t make me touch you!” He sounds for all the world like a parent whose disobedient child is getting on their last nerve.

If I wasn’t currently made out of mist, I just might be rolling on the ground laughing.

Levant dodges around him, and takes a step around the back of the vehicle, fists clenched, darkness swirling around himself, violence in his expression.

Well, it’s time.

I descend, getting in front of where Fernando is standing, and reform myself. My driver won’t be too shocked, he’s seen this before. It’s not unlikely that someone else will also see, but I’m not overly concerned. We’ll be gone shortly, and if anyone bothers checking the security footage, they won’t see anything.

Levant pulls up short to find himself chest to chest with me. I seize control of some of his shadows, as much as I hate to do it after what has already happened to him today. But I am not allowing him to hurt Fernando or anyone else.

I frown at him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He spits out, “You sent a werewolf after me? I’m taking him out, obviously.” But obviously he’s not, not with me here.

In my peripheral vision I see Gregor shake his head and put his hand on his face.

“Listen, kid,” I tell the younger vampire, “get over yourself. I didn’t send anyone after you. He’s just my driver. He does a great job. Why are you constantly on the lookout for trouble? You’re only causing it yourself!” He crosses his arms across his chest, furiously. “Just get in the car,” I tell him, “I’ve got a room all arranged for you at the hotel. Stop making another scene.”

“No fucking way I am getting into a vehicle with that creature,” he says furiously. Gregor sighs.

I just want to get back to the Adabelle, stop attracting attention at the airport. “Fine,” I say. I turn around and look up at Fernando, who is frowning down at us. “Just wait here,” I tell him, “I’ll send someone else to pick you up.”

Fernando shrugs, and steps around the car the long way to keep away from Levant, who is glaring at him.

“Satisfied?” I ask him, truly annoyed. I would be perfectly happy to never see this grumpy vampire ever again. But Gregor seems attached to him for some reason, and he is really the one that I want to talk to. Gregor is the mystery to untangle, not this cranky mass of boiling anger. I’ve seen his type before. “I’m driving,” I clarify, because Levant is still standing there acting like he’s about to punch somebody, but his target has been removed and that makes him angrier than ever.

I look across the car at Gregor. “Why don’t you sit in the back. All the way back,” I tell him. He nods and shrugs, clambers into the car, and sits as far away from the front seat as possible.

I look at Levant. “You take shotgun,” I tell him. He growls, and glares, but he walks back around the car, and gets into the passenger seat.

I shake my head, then get behind the wheel and pull away from the curb.