Otherworld Chills

SORRY SEEMS TO BE THE HARDEST WORD

“Looks like someone made a wrong turn on her way to Yorkville,” Rudy grunted as his bar door swung open, a blast of October air rushing in.

“Close the fucking—” someone began.

The complainer stopped and murmured an apology that almost sounded genuine. That’s what made me twist on my stool to look. The newcomer did indeed look as if she’d gotten lost on her way to the fashionable shopping district. She was in her early forties, long designer coat pulled tight, knee-high boots under it, short copper hair perfectly coiffed, as if the gusts outside didn’t dare disturb it.

As her gaze swept Miller’s, I swear every guy sat up straighter, even the ones so drunk they needed to prop themselves on their elbows to do it. Part of that was because she was an attractive woman. Mostly, though, it was for the same reason one had apologized—because something about her said they damn well better. A bar filled with supernaturals—half of whom look like they’d rob their grandma for beer money—but when she walked in, they straightened and squirmed like errant schoolboys.

She strode across the hardwood floor, heels clicking. I was impressed. I’ve never been able to manage that sound effect in here, where the sheer amount of old booze and vomit underfoot sticks to my boots with every step.

“If you’re looking for the wine bar—” Rudy began.

“I would love the wine bar,” she said. Her accent was French. France, not Quebec. Old, aristocratic French. Very old. Very aristocratic. “In fact, I’m quite certain I would prefer to chug boxed wine in the alley next door. However, the person I am meeting seems to be quite comfortable here. Which does not surprise me one bit.”

I lifted my beer. “Hey, Cass. Found the place okay, I see?”

“No, I do not find the place ‘okay,’ Zoe, as I’m sure you knew when you told me to meet you here.”

“Rudy? Meet Cass. Cassandra DuCharme.”

Up until this moment, Rudy had been the guy in the bar who didn’t quail under Cass’s haughty stare. When she’d been insulting his bar, he’d looked about ready to toss her out on her ass. Now he stopped, bar towel hanging from his fingers. It took him a moment to close his mouth.

“Ms. DuCharme.” He hurried from behind the bar and extended a beefy hand. “Rudy. Sorry about the, uh …” He waved around the bar. “The mess. We had a party last night, and I haven’t quite finished cleaning the place up.”

I peered about. Miller’s looked exactly as it has every day for the last fifteen years. In all that time, I’d never heard Rudy apologize for it. Now he was wiping off a stool and offering Cass some Cristal he “kept in the back.” He kept Cristal in the back?

I could say he was tripping over himself to be nice because Cassandra DuCharme is a vampire. But so am I. The difference, as I’m sure he’d point out, is that Cass is a real vampire—the kind that other supernaturals imagine when you say the V word. Hell, even other vampires aspire to be Cassandra DuCharme. She embodies the romantic sophistication of the stereotype with none of the broody angst. Also, she’s a stone-cold bitch. Who doesn’t want to be a bitch? Well, me, for one. But that’s why the joke in Miller’s is that there are no vampires in Toronto, because Zoe Takano doesn’t count.

“I don’t believe we’re staying,” Cass said when Rudy offered the Cristal.

I opened my mouth.

“No,” she said. “We aren’t staying.” She started for the door.

“I haven’t finished my beer.”

“Bring it.”

“Haven’t paid for it, either.”

She growled under her breath, stalked back to the bar, and slapped down an American twenty. I mouthed for Rudy to apply the rest to my tab, but he was too busy gaping at Cass to even pick up the money—another first for Rudy. He didn’t even give me shit for absconding with his glass.

“There is a wine bar up the road,” I said as we stepped out. “And a fetish bar the other way. I’m fond of the fetish one myself.”

“I’m sure you are. As I believe I tried to indicate on the phone, this is a private conversation, Zoe. We’re going to your apartment.”

She swept off, coat fluttering behind her. I let her get twenty feet before calling, “Wrong way!”

She glowered, spun on her heel, and headed back as I went to hail us a cab.

If I was still using oxygen, I’m sure I’d have been holding my breath as we walked into my apartment. I’m very proud of my place. I spent two decades in Toronto before I found just the right apartment, high above the city, with an amazing view. Then I’d set about decorating it just as slowly, each piece chosen with exquisite care.

With anyone else I’d have rested easy, knowing they’d be impressed. But Cass makes her unliving dealing in art and antiques. I consider myself something of an expert in old stuff, too—I’m a thief, specializing in artifacts. Both are excellent occupations for people who’ve been around a few hundred years. But as confident as I am in my expertise, I’m not on Cass’s level, and I watched her walking around my apartment, waiting for her to snark.

“Nice,” she said, sounding surprised.

“Thank you.” I should have left it there, but I couldn’t. “Any suggestions?”

She took a slow look around. “The sake jug doesn’t fit. It’s a very nice piece of folk art, though. Meiji period?”

I nodded.

“I would suggest a teakettle from the same period. I saw a beautiful tetsubin one last week. Octangular. Silver inlaid handle. I could provide you with the seller’s information.”

I said I’d take it. She was right about the sake jug. As much as I liked it, I’d known it didn’t quite fit.

“Also,” she said, “I’d get rid of the human hiding in your bathroom.”

“I’m not hiding,” said a voice from the hall. “I was using the toilet. Do you want to check?”

A young woman walked out. I’d say “a teenage girl,” but she hates being called that, even if, at nineteen, Brittany technically still is one. I’d forgotten she’d be here—she often used my place as a crash pad following afternoon classes.

“Who’s the vamp?” she asked as she strolled in.

“What makes you think I’m a vampire?” Cass said.

“Because I wasn’t making any noise,” Brittany replied. “You sensed me. Ergo, a vampire.”

“Brittany’s an ex-slayer,” I said.

Cass turned to me, as if she’d misheard. “A what?”

“Former vampire slayer. Well, she never actually got around to slaying one, but that was her plan. I dissuaded her.”

Brittany gave me a look that said she might be un-dissuaded if I kept introducing her that way. It was like having your mom tell people you wanted to grow up to be a rock star.

“She wants to work for the council someday,” I said. “I’m training her to fight.”

I braced myself for Cass to make some sly remark about Brittany’s chances improving if she found a new trainer. Yet she resisted, which only made me more anxious. Cass was being nice. Cass wanted something. Shit.

“Speaking of the council …” Cass made herself comfortable, while managing not to inflict a single wrinkle on her outfit. “I need to speak to you about an opportunity there. Perhaps your young friend should be on her way?”

“The council?” Brittany plopped into the chair nearest Cass. “Hell, no. What’s your connect—” She stopped and her eyes rounded. “You’re Cassandra DuCharme. Holy fucking shit.”

“Language,” I murmured.

“But this is Cassandra DuCharme,” Brittany said. “A real …” She didn’t finish that. Even managed to look guilty for thinking it. “You know what I mean. She’s, like, the Queen of the Vampires.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Cass murmured.

“You are,” Brittany said. “You’re the oldest one around, right?” Cass stiffened. Brittany didn’t notice and barreled on. “You must have the most amazing stories.”

“I’m sure Zoe does, too.”

“Sure, but none she’ll tell me.”

Cass hesitated, and then seemed to remember why I might not be eager to share my past with Brittany. Might not be willing to share it with anyone I actually want to stay friends with. Cass knows what I was like in the early days. It’s just been so long that she forgets.

“Well, maybe they weren’t that interesting,” Cass said. “You know Zoe. She has two modes: stealing things and partying. Both terribly exciting in the short term, but after a hundred and fifty years? Quite dull, I’m sure. The settings may change, but Zoe Takano does not.”

Brittany tensed at the insult and looked over, waiting for me to react. When I didn’t, her annoyance shifted my way. Even when I was insulted in my own home, I didn’t rouse myself to fight back. But Cass was actually saving my ass with her insults—giving an excuse for me not telling those old stories.

“What do you need, Cass?” Now that you’ve finished buttering me up.

“I don’t need anything. However, the council will eventually be in need of a new delegate. My term won’t last much longer, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“I thought delegates served for as long as they wanted,” Brittany said.

Cass meant her life term was ending. Our immortality comes with an expiry date, and by all accounts Cassandra DuCharme’s had passed years ago.

“Are you asking me …?” I said.

“Of course not.” Her words came out clipped. “The council is asking you. I thought it would be better if Aaron came, but he insisted I do it.”

She muttered something uncomplimentary about Aaron. She didn’t mean it. If there’s one person in this world that Cassandra DuCharme cares about, it’s Aaron. They were lovers for over a hundred years before she betrayed him, leaving him to a Romanian mob while she fled. He’d spent the next century avoiding her, but rumor had it they were back together. Did he forgive her? Probably. If Cass is the bitchiest vampire you’ll ever meet, Aaron is the nicest.

But if Aaron sent Cass to ask me to sign up as his co-delegate, that could mean only one thing.

“Britt?” I said. “I think you should leave.”

“Hell, no. This is just getting—”

She stopped as she saw my look.

“I’ll catch up with you tomorrow,” I said. “We’ll get some training in.”

She hauled herself off the chair, managing to sigh the entire time. She made it to the hall and then turned to Cass.

“Are you staying long?” she asked. “In Toronto?”

“No.” Cassandra paused. “But if you are interested in the council, perhaps we can speak tomorrow. Briefly. My plane leaves at noon.”

“Sounds good. Sorry you aren’t staying, but that’s probably just as well. It’s a bad time to be a vampire in Toronto. Zoe’s been having trouble with some immortality questers.” She looked at me. “You were going to warn Cassandra about that, right?”

“Of course.”

Brittany’s look called me a liar, but she only shook her head and left.

When she was gone, Cass said, “Immortality questers?”

“Wild and crazy supernaturals who want to live forever and think we can help them do it. Preferably by decapitating us, carving us up, and seeing what makes us tick—and keep on ticking.”

“Obviously, I know what an immortality quester is, Zoe. If you’re having problems with them—”

“Nah. There are always a few in town. Every now and then they get annoying. I haven’t lost my head over it yet. So, Aaron sent you here to ask me about the delegate post. He wants you to apologize, doesn’t he?”

“For what?”

“Ha-ha.”

She sighed. “If you mean that business back in the twenties …”

“Thirties. Nineteen thirty-four, to be exact. Spring in Venice. A perfect time for love.”

“She was human, Zoe.”

“No law against that. Which didn’t stop you from interfering.”

“I misunderstood the situation.”

“Bullshit. You didn’t trust me.”

She straightened. “Which was understandable, given your past—”

“Ten years. I fucked up for ten years. Then I got my head on straight, and I hadn’t caused one speck of trouble in decades.”

“Given your line of work, I’d hardly say you don’t cause trouble.”

I glowered at her. For a vampire, stealing was about as serious as jaywalking. “I’m as clean as they come, in every way that counts. Yet you interfered. You cost me someone I cared about. Someone I loved.”

“I didn’t kill her.”

“No, you just drove her away and made sure she’d never want to speak to me again.”

“It wouldn’t have worked out.”

“Then it wouldn’t have worked out. She wasn’t in danger. You know how I was turned.”

Silence. A look passed over Cass’s face. It seemed almost like compassion, but I’m sure it was a trick of the light. They say it’s impossible to make someone a vampire against her will. It’s not. That’s what my first lover did to me, when I refused her “gift.” It was a hell beyond imagining.

“Then you know I would never, ever do that to someone else,” I said, my voice low. “I would not have told her what I was. I would never have asked her to join me. She was safe. And you interfered.”

“That was a very long time ago, Zoe.”

“So no apology?”

“I don’t believe I owe—”

I stood. “Then find yourself another delegate. Tell Aaron I’m sorry. He’ll understand.”

“This isn’t about me, Zoe. The council—”

“—will be fine with one delegate. Aaron can handle it. Now, if you’ll excuse me …”

I escorted her out the door.

Cass was right. Agreeing to replace her on the council didn’t help her. It helped Aaron, whom I liked. It helped the werewolf delegates, whom I also liked. Hell, I knew most of the council. Good people doing good work. I wasn’t much of a joiner, but I wasn’t exactly antisocial. I could help. I probably should. And I would, just as soon as I got something from Cass.

Aaron had sent Cass here to make amends. Put her affairs in order. One could argue that Cassandra DuCharme didn’t give a shit who she’d mowed down in the last four hundred years. A cast of thousands, I was sure. But if she truly didn’t care, Aaron wouldn’t have sent her on this quest for forgiveness. So I’d get my apology, for her own good.

“Five hundred,” Rudy said when I told him my plan.

I snorted a laugh.

“Six hundred, then,” he said. “You keep arguing, the price keeps rising. I need my cut, Zoe.”

“If I pay you six hundred, then your cut will be the whole six hundred, because whoever you hire will work for a bottle of booze. Cheap booze, which you’ll write off as spoilage. I’ll give you what you’d get with the standard fifty percent cut of five hundred. Two hundred and fifty.”

“Three.”

“Three and you wipe my tab.” I counted out the money on the bar before he could argue.

Next I called up Cass, said I felt bad about the way we left things, and asked if she’d accompany me to the opera that night. She jumped at the chance, certain it meant I was waffling. Aaron would be so much happier if she secured my agreement. And she’d be so much happier if she could secure it without all that apologizing nonsense.

It was a lovely performance of Fidelio. Afterward, I took Cass to a wine bar—a very nice one, I might add. Together with the tickets, the evening cost me as much as I’d paid Rudy for his performance artists. But Cass was impressed. Also a little tipsy, as we made our way along the darkened streets. Tipsy enough that she let me steer her into a “shortcut” through a churchyard. She didn’t even pick up the life signs of the guy at the other end until he stepped into the moonlit gap.

“Hello, Zoe,” he said. “You’re a hard girl to find these days. Been thinking hard on our offer, I hope.”

I wheeled. Another man slid from the shadows, blocking our retreat. When Cass turned to see him, he lifted a machete and grinned.

“Oh God,” I whispered to Cass. “I am so sorry. Don’t worry. I’ll get us out of this.”

“I’m sure you will,” she said, her tone as dry as the Chardonnay we’d just finished. “But I think I can handle it.”

“No, don’t—!”

She was already striding toward the guy with the machete. “And what do you think you’re going to do with that?”

“What should be done to all bloodsuckers. Off with ’er head.” He grinned and waved the machete, blade glinting in the moonlight. “You’ll be a lot more useful when you’re dead, parasite. You’ll help someone for a change. A lot of someones. Once we discover the secret—”

“Oh, stuff it,” she said as she stopped in front of him. “Do you really expect me to believe you’re going to lop off my head here? In downtown Toronto? And then what? Drag my decapitated corpse to your lair?” She turned to me. “Really, Zoe? I thought you were smarter than this.”

“Cass! Watch—!”

She grabbed the guy’s arm as he swung the machete. She didn’t even turn around to do it. Just reached back, grabbed his arm, and yanked. He may have been almost twice her size, but she caught him off guard and he stumbled. She was on him in a second, teeth sinking into his neck.

“No!” the other man cried.

He raced toward his companion as Cass let the man fall to the ground.

“Oh please,” she said. “Save the drama. I’m sure you know enough about vampires to realize I’ve merely sedated him with my saliva. I’m hardly going to drink from a man reeking of cheap whiskey.

God knows what kind of hangover I’d get.” She stepped toward the second man. “Now, unless you’d like the same …”

He turned and ran. Cass looked at me, shook her head, and resumed walking.

I had to jog to keep up with Cass. Even at four hundred years old, the woman can move damn fast.

“I did not set that up,” I said. “I swear it. There’s no way I could have told Brittany to warn you about fake immortality questers.”

“No? The girl can’t receive text messages on her phone?”

“You think I texted her to say that? When? You didn’t mention the delegate offer until she was in the same room with us.”

“Elena forewarned you. No, not Elena. It was Clayton, wasn’t it? The man has a grudge against me. I have no idea why.”

“Um, because you hit on him … while Elena was being held captive, fighting for her life.”

She wheeled, boots scraping the pavement. “Who told you that?”

“Everyone knows. But Clay wouldn’t call me with tips. He doesn’t much like me, either. Probably because I hit on Elena.”

She rolled her eyes and resumed walking.

“Okay,” I said. “Clearly those two were not real immortality questers. I’m guessing someone from Rudy’s is playing a prank on me. They know I’ve been having trouble with questers and that you’re in town. Making me look bad with a real vampire. Ha-ha. I’ll get them back. But I did think, at first, those two were the real deal, because I have been having problems.”

“I’m sure you have. Your ruse has failed. Don’t compound the damage by insulting my intelligence.”

“But—”

“Go home, Zoe. Our evening is at an end.”

I’d been following Cass for five blocks, reasoning that if she really wanted to get rid of me, she’d have hopped in a cab by now. She knew I was there, keeping pace fifty feet back, working out a strategy. Also, I was calling directions when she’d pause on a corner and try to figure out which way to turn.

We were cutting across a quiet residential street of townhouses when I noticed the car. It was black, all the lights off as it inched along the road toward us. Then it stopped.

I broke into a run and caught up to Cass.

“That car,” I whispered. “I’ve seen it before.”

She fixed me with a look. “Really, Zoe?”

“No, I’m serious. It’s them. The immortality questers.”

She sighed. “I cannot believe you’d honestly try this again after—”

The car shot forward, motor gunning. I grabbed the back of her coat.

“Come on! There’s a walkway right—”

She pulled away and turned to continue down the sidewalk as the car raced toward us.

“You’d better warn your friends,” she said. “If they lay a hand on me, they will lose it. I am not in the mood for games.”

The car’s rear door flew open as it slowed.

“Cass!” I yelled. “I’m serious! This isn’t me!”

A man leapt from the car. Cass ducked him easily, but a second man had swung out from the other side. He caught her from behind, wrenching her arms back.

“Zoe!” she snarled. “This isn’t funny. Tell these men to unhand me or—”

The first man grabbed her legs and they threw her into the backseat. As he wrestled her in, the second man took a step toward me.

“Little Zoe Takano,” he said. “What are you going to do now? Try to stop us? Or be happy we have a prize in your stead?”

I took a slow step back.

He laughed. “That’s what I thought.”

I could see Cass in the backseat, fighting two men as they restrained her. She looked over at me, her eyes blazing.

“I’m sorry,” I mouthed. Then I turned and ran.

I watched from my hiding place as the car made a right turn, sticking to the residential roads tucked deep in the heart of downtown. I knew a shortcut, and the roads here were narrow, plagued with stop signs that would keep their progress slow.

I calculated where they’d go, coming out onto a busier street to make a speedy escape. Sure enough, the car appeared as I waited, hidden, near a stoplight. They were on a side street, meaning at this time of night the light wouldn’t change until it needed to. As they idled at the red, I snuck out, used a pick to carefully pop the trunk, and slipped inside.

They took Cass clear out of the city to what looked like an abandoned farmhouse, on a chunk of property with signs warning that condos would be coming soon. Sneaking out of the trunk and into the house was a breeze. Hey, I’m a thief. It’s what I do.

Cass was being held in the basement with only one guard on duty, the others upstairs, on a phone conference. I snuck past the guard and found Cass, huddled dejectedly in a room, resigned to her fate … Yeah, not in this lifetime. She was on her feet, pacing as she waited for that life sign that would tell her someone was coming. Although the door made barely a whisper as I opened it, she spun, fangs out, eyes glittering.

She saw me and stopped. For at least five seconds, she just stared.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “I had nothing to do with this.”

“Yes, I know,” she said. “But … you came back.”

I knew why she was so shocked. If the situation had been reversed, she would not have come for me. She would have gotten help—she’s not a monster—but she wouldn’t have rescued me herself.

“I had to,” I whispered. “As nice as Aaron is, he’d have hunted me to the ends of the earth if I let you die before your time. Now, there’s only one guard on this level. I didn’t want to disable him, in case someone noticed. I’ll go do that now. Count to ten and follow.”

Before I could go, she laid her hand on my arm, stopping me.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Hold that thought. We’re not out of here yet.”

The guard was easily dispatched, and the way was still clear. The only problem was the hike to civilization after we escaped, but we stayed away from the roads, so it was merely long and cold, until finally we saw lights that suggested a place where we might find a cab.

As we headed across a field to reach the lights, Cass said, “You have my apology, Zoe. I know that’s important to you, so I’ll give it.”

“Even though you still don’t think you did anything wrong?”

She glanced over, green eyes shimmering in the dark. “No, I do not. The relationship wouldn’t have lasted.” She turned forward again. “They say that, for vampires, this is our afterlife. If so, then that is our hell—everyone we care about will die. If it happens often enough, you learn that the only way to protect yourself is not to get too attached to anyone or anything.”

“Even other vampires?”

“Perhaps. Everything can die.”

That’s why she’d betrayed Aaron. To drive him away. Obviously, it hadn’t worked. Sometimes the pain of forced separation—knowing your beloved is still out there—is worse than death. I could understand her reasoning, but I didn’t agree with it. Attachments are all we have. Yes, a vampire will watch their world crumble over and over, but there’s always something that follows, something new and filled with promise. And the memories remain, sweet and bittersweet.

“I did what I thought was right,” she said. “But you are correct that I interfered, when I should not have. I didn’t trust you to handle the situation. For that, I will apologize. Sincerely.”

“Thank you.”

We continued on in silence. Her mission was accomplished. Both of them. She’d been forgiven and the council would have a new delegate.

Mine had been accomplished, too. I got my apology, and it only cost me three hundred bucks. Rudy’s guys had done well. I’d need to buy them a round the next time they were at Miller’s.