Chapter 3 - Patton
A few days later, I woke to a series of loud thuds. My alarm clock blinked 3:14 at me in red, luminescent letters. I swore loudly. Whatever this was, it likely was unaware that it as breaking my eighth and final commandment - thou shalt not wake me at an ungodly hour without good reason. The motion sensor light over the porch had gone on, but I couldn't see anything from my bedroom window. And the thudding hadn't stopped - there were a few loud blows, a period of waiting, and then the blows were repeated. Somebody was knocking with a lot more force than a normal human body could muster. And it was knocking on my door. At 3:14 in the morning.
No good would come of this.
At least it's not whatever attacked earlier. This wasn't a terribly comforting thought, since there were dozens of other nasty things that didn't hail from the Nevernever that could do real, fleshy damage to my real, human flesh - and those were just the ones that immediately came to mind. I had made a great many enemies, natural and supernatural, alike. But I could be assured that this thing was of this earth, because of the enormous iron ring implanted just a few feet underneath my lawn, safely encircling the full house and the majority of the yard. Since I'm no wizard, the iron was my only physical defense against non-earthly beings. I had been doubtful at first that it would work, but since I'd had it installed, nothing supernatural had made it a few steps beyond the gate, and there had certainly been others who had tried. If I could manage to finagle a wizard to live with me, I could have proper wards, but I have no way of sustaining them, much less putting them up or taking them down.
I grabbed the crossbow from its display on the side table - not ornamental, incidentally - and opened the front door. A bored-looking young man wearing skintight leather pants, a mesh shirt, and a pair of shit-kicker steel-toed boots stood there, poised as if to knock again. I didn't buy that for a second - I'm very quiet, but he must have heard me coming. He didn't shiver at all in the brisk, late October air. He was pale, his fair hair tousled in an arrangement that looked like a vomiting starfish. His eyes, however, were deeply shadowed and gleamed just a bit too brightly.
"Patton, it's me...Heinrich...You can put the bow down." The bow stayed aimed precisely where it was pointed, which was between his eyes. "Aren't you glad to see me?"
"I can hardly contain my excitement, but believe me, I will try my very best."
"Can I come in?"
"You absolutely cannot. And what in the Hell do you think you're doing, pounding at the door at three in the morning?"
"Just dropping by."
"You've got to be shitting me."
"I shit you not."
"You have 30 seconds to explain why you're here before I shoot you."
"You wouldn't kill me."
"No, but I'll wound you, good and proper. You now have 23 seconds."
"I've been sent to ask why you haven't responded to Lord Arenas' invitation."
"At three in the morning?"
"I can't very well come by in broad daylight, can I?"
"And you certainly couldn't have shown up around six or seven, when the sun set? Why do you care about the ball? I'm assuming you're not here to check my measurements?"
"I think I could have a lot of fun with the inseam measurement in particular. I certainly know how to handle the proper implements."
That you do, vampire boy. But that's beside the point.
"Your time is up. Which arm do you prefer?"
"What?"
"You've had your thirty seconds, and you've done nothing but spout shit. Which arm do you favor? Left or right?"
"You're really not going to let me in? It could be fun -"
"So could shooting you full of holes so you look like a cheese grater. Fun's relative. Spit it out. What do you want here? Who sent you?" He opened his mouth to speak. "And if you say 'I was sent' one more time, I will make you very sorry you came here."
He was at my throat in a second. I was inhumanly fast, a vestige of my rather murky paternal heritage, but I can't compete with the superhuman speed of a vampire, nor can I compete with their strength or toughness, at least not without the proper tools. And I'd royally pissed him off.
"You're right," he assured me, plucking the crossbow from my grip with no apparent effort and tossing it across the floor, where it made an ominous noise but didn't fire at my couch. I would have been pissed - I'd just conditioned the leather. "Fun is relative." I tried to push him off me, but it was useless. He had me securely pinned, and unless I startled him, I had no chance of getting free. "So is pain." He squeezed my wrist, grinding the bones painfully against each other. "So is death, human, and I'm considerably harder to kill than you are. You ought to be careful whom you threaten."
"Are you going to tell me why you're here?"
"Several reasons. Lord Arenas is interested in whether or not you'll be attending his ball. I had other things to attend to tonight, which is why I was...delayed in calling on you. And I volunteered for this delightful task, knowing full well you would probably greet me as you did, because I haven't seen you in awhile and I missed you."
"Liar."
"I missed parts of you, anyway."
Sex with a vampire is unlike anything else I have ever experienced. It's one part incredible sex, one part vicious mixed martial arts match, one part complete and utter emotional void. They don't get tired, don't get winded, don't have trouble holding awkward or taxing positions for a long time, and can take a hell of a pounding without batting an eye. When they touch you, there's always the fear that they'll go for the jugular, break you in half, tear you limb from limb, and it's more exhilarating than drugs, high-speed chases, and the majority of most other near-death experiences. Above and beyond the sex, there's also the fear that your surroundings will be completely and utterly destroyed.
"That was fun," he remarked lightly, slithering back into his leather pants. I'd torn his shirt, but one of the benefits of mesh is that it never really looks destroyed.
"That it was." I located my underwear and pulled them on. Another benefit of vampires - they don't do pillow talk, and they don't linger.
"Can Lord Arenas expect you?"
"He can. And before you ask, that was decided before your visit. Are you going to tell me why you care whether I'm there or not? Last I checked, you had nothing to do with his court. Aren't you under Lady Gabriela Luna?"
"My allegiances are no concern of yours. Good night."
"'Night."
He was gone in a minute, leaving me to check for structural damage to my living room and furniture. None that I could see. I checked the crossbow and set it back on its stand before padding into the kitchen in bare feet, hoping to fulfill a deep and unyielding desire for something, anything containing cheese. Leftover ravioli, washed down with a dark ale. The fourth meal of champions.
In the corner, a large mass of dark fur stirred, possibly lured into semi-wakefulness by the smell of food. Rex and Regina are possibly siblings, one part dark-haired Newfoundland, one part elephant. Rex is easily 200 lbs, pure black and rather self-satisfied. Regina is only slightly smaller and a rich shade of dark brown. She is Rex's boss. They sleep in one giant mass of limbs wherever they feel is appropriate, though I've trained them to stay off the furniture. Regina (so named because she is the queen) lifted her enormous head from where it rested on Rex's haunches, cast me a sleepy glance, and, upon realizing no food was forthcoming, went immediately back to sleep.
That left me to ponder what Heinrich had gotten himself into, or what stake Lady Luna had lost. I'd met her and very nearly been killed by her on four separate occasions. She was no brown-noser, and certainly not one to lend her allegiance to, of all people, Lord Arenas. She's a bit big for her britches, that's to be certain, but she's been around since the Renaissance or earlier (they weren't very big on accurate record-keeping back then) and is one of the strongest creatures I've ever met. If her man was on loan to Arenas, either she was trying to win his favor (which I found hard to imagine) or Arenas had simply claimed Heinrich or forced her to give him up, and Lady Luna was unable to dispute it. That meant there was an angry and violently vengeful vampire queen on the loose, out to prove she was bigger and badder than Arenas, which she probably was.
It was unsettling, to say the least. The bottom of my beer bottle provided few answers, though it helpfully suggested that I have another. The next one informed me that I'd best get to sleep, but now that it was nearly seven in in the morning, the sky was lightening, somewhat golden along the horizon. I can't sleep with the sun out. It's unnatural. Regina stretched and yawned, pattered over to me, surprisingly light on her feet for such a large dog, and looked at me with her big brown eyes in a way that could only mean "walk." I checked on Rex and she batted at his nose until he awoke, and I grabbed my keys, clipped on their leashes, and set out for a long run to clear my head. Heinrich and I hadn't done much talking, but now I had a lot of questions and the sneaking suspicion that I wouldn't like the answers when I found them.
