Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen
Close Encounter of the Choi Kind

December. It’s always been a shitty time of year for me, and being dead didn’t make it any better. I am working on the computer, preparing the necessary paperwork to start up Legal Services of Seattle. Now that I had both the blessing of the Prince, my Mentor, and most importantly, my stockbroker, there were licenses to apply for, forms to file, and a location to be chosen. I feel someone tap me on the shoulder. I know almost without looking back that it is Greywolf. “You have worked enough tonight, Childe.” He tells me. “It is time that we went out for a bit to spend some time among the kine.”

I save my work and shut down the computer. I pick up my leather jacket from the back of the chair. I put it on over the burgundy t-shirt that just barely covered my navel. I had finally been able to get the raven tattoo on my back finished last night, and I intended to show it off. Blue jeans ripped at one knee and black leather calf high boots completed the look. I apply a single coat of my brick red lipstick.

Greywolf eyes me appraisingly. “Very nice.” I grab the small bag I used for our evenings out. It was just big enough to hold a lipstick, my wallet and a small pen. I let him lead the way, and soon enough, we are leaving the safety of our current haven and into the streets of Seattle once more. I recognize the area soon enough. It was close to my old stomping grounds, and near the Office of the Public Defender where I used to work. I’d only been gone a month, but it seemed like a lifetime. I suppose in some ways, it was. That was my old life, this was my new one. Greywolf finally picks a bar. Thankfully, it wasn’t the Black Cock. I wasn’t ready to go back there. In fact, I don’t think I’d ever be ready.

The bar Greywolf chose was MacGuffin’s, a bar that offered nearly everything a guy could want; pool tables, large portions, music, satellite television tuned to numerous sporting events, cheap booze, comfy booths and hot waitresses.

We make our way to the pool tables in the back. From going to other such places, I knew that the waitresses rarely would disturb us there. We’d have to actually go up to the bar to order drinks, which of course, we wouldn’t actually consume. “How are ya at pool?” Greywolf asks, feeding the table quarters.

“I suck.” I reply. I’d played a few games with my co-workers, and I always lost, though sometimes not by very much. I think I’d won once, but only because my opponent had scratched on an eight ball shot.

Greywolf chuckles. “Billiards was not always a lady’s game, but I shall endeavor to teach it to you. You may find it useful.” While I take off my jacket, I watch him rack up the balls and break them ineffectively.

Greywolf selects a cue from the nearby rack and hands it to me. “Your turn. Remember that this is a game of physics and angles. Use the sides when you can, and choose your shots carefully.” I line up my shot, but still miss. Greywolf sinks his first ball, a stripe, but misses the next. He selects my next shot for me, and I manage to sink it, but miss the next shot that I selected myself.

And so it goes. For being such an expert, Greywolf made about as many shots as I did. As we near the end of the game, a young Asian guy slaps four quarters down on the table. “Play you next game, old man.”

Greywolf sinks the eight ball without missing a beat. He straightens up, and sizes the guy up. “Fifty dollars a game.” Greywolf puts a single fifty-dollar bill on a corner of the table. I roll my eyes at the testosterone fest. I put my cue back in the rack, and tell Greywolf I’m going to the bathroom. As I walk away, Greywolf is getting ready to break.

I didn’t really need to use the ladies room, of course, but I did want a little time away. I use the precious few moments to preen. I check my hair. It was still the same shade of reddish-brown it had been before my death. The same shade as my mother’s, before she decided to bleach it blonde. My eyes were still the same color, but my skin was paler. It wasn’t chalky white, but it was a shade paler than ivory. I turn my back to the mirror and look over my shoulder to admire the tattoo in all its fully finished glory.

I look back in shock. The feathers, which had been so carefully inked in, were gone, erased completely from my skin. Hours of work. Lost. I recall Greywolf warning me that the ink wouldn’t last, that any alterations to the skin postmortem would be rejected. He was right, once again. I sigh, and apply another coat of lipstick. I start to walk out of the bathroom, and right into a woman coming in.

“Oh!” I was probably as startled as the woman. “I’m sorry, did I scare you?” The woman was short, Asian and rather pretty. In a matter of seconds, it clicked. It was Renee Choi, my former co-worker. Shit. I try to leave, hoping she doesn’t recognize me.

“Mara? Is that you?” Renee grabs my shoulder. I was stuck now. I had to talk to her. Greywolf had warned me that I should be careful when dealing with kine, so I concentrate and will my heart to beat again, warming my flesh for a short while.

I turn to face Renee. I didn’t want to talk to her, but I had no choice. “Renee. How the heck are you?” I offer my best fake smile, wanting to keep the conversation short. But I had a feeling that it wasn’t going to be the case.

Renee pulls me back into the bathroom. “What the hell happened to you?” She demands. “I was worried when you didn’t show up Monday, and then you just up and decide to resign from the O.P.D. No warning. No notice. We were going to be lifers, you and I. Remember, you promised?”

I sigh. I had promised, but then again, I had kept it. It was the last job I held before my untimely death. I shake my head sadly. “I’m really sorry, but things have changed. I’m not the same person anymore.”

“All you did was deck some guy in a bar. How does that make things different?” Renee stomps her foot for emphasis. “The guy didn’t press charges, did he?” Her tone changed to one that was more worried.

“No, he never pressed charges.” Of course, there was no way the police could track me down anymore. I no longer had a permanent address, just a Post Office Box registered in my name. I look down, not really wanting to face her.

“So why are things so different then? I tried calling your house, but the number was disconnected. I tried going over too, but the manager said you’d moved out. So what the hell’s wrong? Why do all that?”

What could I say? I couldn’t exactly tell her that I was a vampire. That was breaking the Traditions. “I’m really sorry. I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” I offer a smile, hoping she didn’t think I was serious. Though I was serious, I really would have to kill her. “No really, I just can’t tell you, you can’t help me.”

Renee was still blocking my path. “Please, Mara. Let me help you. It can’t be that bad.”

It was far worse than she could ever imagine. I touch her on the cheek. “Look. You were right. That suit was bad luck. I should have listened to you and burned it.” I start to walk past her, hoping that she will let me leave. “You can’t help me right now.” But then again, maybe there was a way she could help me. I would need associates to help me run Legal Services of Seattle. Maybe I can win her away from the O.P.D. Then again, probably not on a permanent basis. “Tell you what, I’ve got your card. I’ll call you later.” I start to walk away. I can hear Renee calling my name, begging me to come back. I wanted to return, to go back to my old life, but there was no way that I could. But though I couldn’t go back, maybe I could still keep my old friends, keep in touch about what was going on.

I return to the back room. Greywolf was calling a pocket, and taking his final shot. Surprisingly, he made the shot. He scoops the money up off the table. He nods his head to the young man. “It’s been fun.” Greywolf offers. He starts to head toward the door.

The guy grabs Greywolf’s shoulder. “Wait. Double or nothing.” I guess the kid didn’t like getting his butt beat by an old man.

Greywolf turns and smiles at him. “All right. Show me the cash.”

The kid sets another hundred on the table. Greywolf feeds the machine more quarters. The balls come rolling out, and Greywolf calmly removes each ball one at a time and puts them in the plastic triangle in the proper order. “You break.” The kid tells him. Greywolf smiles, and motions to me to take a seat. I sit, hoping that Renee won’t try to track me down again. Greywolf breaks, and two balls, both stripes, immediately sink. He was better than he’d let on. Obviously, the kid was going to lose. Again. My mentor, it seemed was quite the pool shark. Once again, it seemed, I really didn’t know him all that well.

I watch as Greywolf proceeds to sink one ball after another, until only the eight ball and the other solid balls remain on the table. He walks around the table, and finally calls it. “Eight ball in the corner pocket.” He raises his cue to indicate the left corner. He slowly lines up the shot, and then takes it. The ball falls into the pocket he indicated. Greywolf starts to take the money from the table.

The man puts his hand on top of Greywolf’s. “You cheated.”

Greywolf shakes his head. “No, you underestimated your opponent.” He takes the money and pulls his hand away from the one covering it. I start to get up, ready to protect him if I had to. I shake my head, trying to clear the cobwebs. He didn’t need my protection. Why did I want to protect him? I still couldn’t really understand it. He extends his hand to me. “Come, my dear.”
I take his hand, grabbing my jacket at the same time, and look at the young man. Greywolf was right, the man had been too cocky and underestimated him. That was a big mistake.

Unfortunately for him, the guy decided he wasn’t going to take the loss lightly. Greywolf and I walk out of the bar, but the young man follows us out. “Hey!” He shouts. “I’m talking to you.”

Greywolf looks back at him a moment. “Yes, boy?” His tone is one of disrespect. It seemed he wasn’t too fond of a sore loser. Neither was I really, and I’d dealt with more than my fair share of them during my stint as a Public Defender.

The young man pulls out a knife, not bothering to take off his gray trench coat. “You cheated me. I want my money back. Now.”

Greywolf is moving backwards now, towards the alley and the shadows. The man advances on Greywolf and doesn’t notice that he was being drawn into the shadows. I follow close on both their heels. He and I had played this game before, and this target was no different. Within a matter of moments, Greywolf kicks the knife from his hand. With another sweep of his foot, he has the guy on the ground and he is ours. The kid is out cold, and we both feed from him, taking great care not to kill him. The man’s blood tasted very sweet. It must have been the extra adrenaline. There was only a slight hint of alcohol. So he wasn’t drunk yet. Always a good thing, since picking victims from bars had its drawbacks.

Greywolf pats down the man, searching him. He takes out his wallet and removes the rest of the money. Foolish, foolish, youth. Thinking that he could take on a Kindred. Greywolf gets up. I look at him. Is this what we must stoop to in order to survive? I didn’t think so. I still had my trust fund, and soon enough, I would have Legal Services of Seattle. A new purpose for my new life, such as it was.

Greywolf smiles at me, offering a mere hint of his fangs. I smile back and once again, we head into the night, two predators in search of their next prey.