A puck and a peri walk into a bar…
Sounds like a bad joke with a shoddy punch line. That would've been preferable to the reality, which was currently starring me right in the face.
"No, Goodfellow," I said for what seemed to be the thousandth time in as many seconds. Ishiah, bless his peri soul to the depths of Hades, had chosen to leave Goodfellow to his fate and was presently polishing my beer mugs at the other end of the counter. That we didn't open for another two hours and that my mugs were already immaculate didn't seem to matter to him.
"Come on, doll," Robin begged (or as close to begging as a puck can ever get).
I did not even dignify Robin's one-thousand-one-th attempt at coercion with a response. His next attempt would be met with bared fangs and possibly a bite out of his neck. Fortunately for Robin's health (and my own, who knew what puck would do to my diet), he never got the chance to ask again. Ishiah finally intervened.
"Robin, perhaps it would be prudent to give her some time to think on it."
Robin, in a rare moment of clarity, took note of my black eyes, clenched fist, and tightened jaw, and took a hasty step back. "Right, right. You think on it, doll. We'll be back next week." Hee beat a hasty retreat when I growled at him, baring my teeth. Ishiah gave me a pained look and followed after him.
Next week was going to come much too soon.
With the beat of the band drumming in my ears and the smell of blood clouding my senses, I almost missed Robin and Ishiah's entrance. I wondered briefly how they managed to get passed the werewolf I'd hired for the specific purpose of keeping them out, but that wonderment quickly vanished behind a thick layer of self preservation as I ducked behind the counter and prayed to every god and goddess I knew that they hadn't seen me yet. For the sake of my sanity I figured I could sacrifice my dignity and quickly began crawling along the ground toward my office, from where I could escape into the night.
Sadly it wasn't meant to be. As I rounded the end of the counter, Robin's stylish shoes and silk pants entered my line of sight. I was certain that, were I to turn around, I would find Ishiah's typical worn leather pants and crushing black boots. The world really is an unkind place, it thought to myself as Ishiah grabbed my forearms and hauled me gently to my feet.
"'Lo Robin, Ish," I said, somewhat slurred and much too loud; and if they mistook the necessity of talking loud over the music and the slur the smell of blood was putting in my voice, for drunkenness and left…more's the pity.
It appeared they didn't care one way or another. Let me tell you, it's very damaging for a three thousand year old vampire queen's ego to be hauled over a peri's shoulder and carted off like a sack of potatoes. However, by this point in our relationship I was entirely used to these two not respecting my prestige.
Ishiah and Robin kidnapped me from my own club, The Bride (i.e. the Bride of Dracula, but that sounded so cheesy) which I named after myself ("They could build monuments to your self centeredness, the both of you," Ishiah grumbled. "They have," Robin and I chorused together, grinning cheekily.) At the very least, Robin's car had very comfy back seats, I thought as Ish tossed me through the door. Ish climbed in the front seat with Robin and we were off to who knows where.
The drive to the airport was in relative silence as I sulked in the backseat and Robin and Ish murmured to themselves up front. Robin's private jet was waiting ready to go and all Robins had to do was pull his car into the belly of the plane. I suppose Robin wanted to make sure I had no chance to take off. Wise of him, as I definitely would have given half the chance.
Robin and Ish refused to unlock the cars doors until the plane was well and truly off the ground. They dragged me up into the top of the plane and sat me down on a plush loveseat. Robin spread himself out on the divan like a King and Ish sank gratefully into an armchair. Robin's plane was a tribute to hedonistic tendencies.
"So, where are you taking me?" I asked.
"New York," Robin answered leisurely.
"What!?" New York! New York? "I don't want to go to New York. It's crowded and smoggy and yucky," I whined. "I like Alaska. Let's just stay here."
"What are you?" Ishiah groused. "3000, or 3?"
Looks of angelic innocence complete with fake halo had never worked on Ishiah. Maybe the fangs threw it off. At any rate, I was clearly getting no where with this approach. "You know, she probably doesn't even want to see me," I reasoned. "I mean, its her wedding day and I'm –"
"– the only one who can bless her union with Niko," Robin interjected. "Drac was killed in San Francisco twenty years ago. That makes you the head of the 'family' until you sign the right over to someone else."
I tried to feel some small measure of mourning over the demise of my ex-husband, but couldn't scrounge up anything more than a passing "Cya, sucka." I returned my attention to Robin, who sounded unusually serious. "You must really care about this Niko guy. Tell me, does he deserve to be my Promise's consort?"
"Promise could never find a better man," Ish assured me. It made me feel marginally better coming from him, an excellent judge of character, where as Robin himself was like a character study in bad judgment. I was suddenly eager to meet this Niko, but likewise was terrified to see Promise again.
"I still think this is a bad idea. You could have just brought me the abdication papers. I could have signed it off to Promise and then she wouldn't need anyone's consent."
"Ah, but maybe we just missed you," Robin whined.
I snorted. It was unlikely. The last time Robin and I had met, he pissed me off so bad I bit him. Ishiah and I had just seen each other a few months ago. He was by far my favorite out of the two. More often than not, Robin made me want to commit homicide…or suicide, depended on if I was in a position to get my fangs in him. I told him so.
"Now, that isn't nice at all, my dear," Goodfellow admonished. I bared my teeth at him, an action which usually inspires terror in any creature with half a brain, but which Robin merely chuckled at. He either has no sense of self-preservation, or I have lost my edge. To test the theory, I repeated the action at the flight attendant, who turned white, dropped her tray, and fled the cabin shrieking. Yup, the fault lay in Goodfellow and I still got it.
Assured of my frightening-ness, I settled back against the cushions with a cocky grin. Clearly, I had no say in this. Of course, If I really wanted to, I could get out of this, but I'd probably have to kill everyone on the plane. Except the pilot, since I can't fly, and I'd rather not find out if 3000 years is enough to enable me to survive a horrible plane crash. It should be, of course, but it probably wouldn't be, knowing how I get on with Lady Luck and Darling Murphy with her stupid law.
Sighing again, I closed my eyes and tried to sleep but the anxiety of the coming reunion with my childe left me feeling restless and antsy. The walls of the plane felt like a cage, and it was going to be a long flight.
Several hours and ten of those little airline vodka bottles later (damned vampire constitution), the pilot announced our on coming descent and I began calculating the odds of escape once we hit the ground. In the end, it didn't matter. The plane pulled right into a tightly sealed hanger and we departed straight into an armored limo that made the new president's look like a child's toy.
Inside the limo, Ishiah handed me a suitcase. "Here, if you want to change into something less…" He made a gesture toward my club clothes.
"Why? Can you honestly say Robin doesn't wear worse on a daily basis?" I took the suitcase anyway and pulled out a pair of black jeans and a black denim lace up corset with a white flowly sleeved shirt. It made me look like a modern pirate but it looked good on me.
"Turn around," I demanded. For once, they actually listened and I dressed quickly, pulling on boots and tying my thick black curls up in a red gauzy bandana. Combined with my pale skin, brown eyes, and large dangly earrings, I resembled nothing so much as a gypsy pirate.
"You look good, babe," Robin said, once I let him turn around. "Takes me back to the good old days of drinking and debauchery."
Only Robin would consider my pirating days as the "good old days". It wasn't my shining moment really, and to tell the truth it hadn't been his either. Moving on…
The trip from the airport was relatively short and in no time we were pulling up to a ritzy apartment building, complete with a doorman and valet. It was Robin's place no doubt. It practically screamed "Robin Goodfellow, father of hedonistic tendencies , resides here." Walking into Robin's place was a trip. We probably looked like a rich party boy, his bodyguard and a hooker.
"So," I said, as we rode in the elevator to the penthouse floor. "When are we going to see Promise?"
"We're not. She's waiting in my apartment. I figured you'd want to get this over with as soon as possible."
That was unusually considerate and perceptive of Robin.
"I told his to make sure she was here when we got here," Ish said.
That made more sense.
"Great. Can't wait." Actually, I could. Another 200 some years seemed adequate.
200 years I would not get. I didn't even get 200 seconds. The door to the elevator slid open with a ding to reveal Robin's living room, and sitting in a cushy leather seat was my Promise.
A/N: I should be updating again soon. Please review.