Chapter 9
Daniel Weaver had nearly given up. It had been almost two weeks since he'd sent his grades and résumé to that guy he'd talked to at the testing site, and he'd heard nothing back. He gave himself a mental slap for hoping, as he finished getting ready for work. School janitor was a sucky job, but it was legitimate work, so he shouldn't complain. Eight hours there as a Custodial Assistant, then home to scarf down a quick sandwich, and out the door for five hours of part-time fast-food grill work. At least it paid the rent; maybe he'd hear back from the teachers' union about a job opening somewhere for summer school, or as a substitute teacher. Hell, even as a teacher's assistant, although that didn't pay crap.
With a sigh, he checked his e-mail before heading out the door…and stared at the offer of an interview from Mr. Julius Alexander for a position as a mathematics instructor at the Waggoner Academy and Shelter for Runaways, at a time to be negotiated for both of their conveniences, if he was still interested, yadda yadda. Hell, yeah, he was still interested! He shot off a confirmation and a request for two days later, then headed off to work, feeling as if he were floating in the clouds. Yeah, an interview wasn't a guaranteed job, but it was start…and a start was all he was really asking for, wasn't it?
~oOo~
Rex smiled when he got Weaver's second e-mail, agreeing to an interview. He was puzzled by the request for an evening appointment, until he remembered that the man worked several part-time jobs, then confirmed that and added an invitation for a light dinner—dress casual, please—since the school tended to eat later in the evening than one would normally expect. That way Daniel could meet his prospective pupils in a more informal setting.
It would also give Rex time to convince Deke to behave himself in front of a guest, although he didn't really foresee any problems there. He seemed resigned to his situation now, as long as he was kept busy.
And he was. Deke, Marc Santos, and Sammy Chen had been put to work on the renovation of one of the smaller dormitory/classroom buildings; Rex would see how this project went before dealing with the other two, for this was the smallest of the three buildings. He had plans for this one, seeing its potential as small apartments for paired Stable members or as quarters for hired teachers, such as he hoped Weaver would be. When the weather warmed up a bit more, he would have the roof replaced, since most of the buildings needed to have that done, and have NecroGlass put in when he had the windows replaced for better energy efficiency. Until then, Master Camilla had several minions who had worked construction before their turning; they would deal with moving interior walls, converting the tiny single rooms and larger open bays into suites and multi-bedroom apartments.
Rex's people would be assisting with that also, and hopefully learning how to do this themselves. Sammy had worked some construction over the summers both before and after his senior year of high school, so he knew which end of a hammer was used to hit a nail. Marc was generally handy—sheds and such frequently had needed fixing in his dad's landscaping business; he had learned a lot over his summer vacations and after school while he was growing up. It didn't take a lot of skill to gut an old building, especially when the interior paneling wasn't worth salvaging. Once the pipes and wiring could be gotten at, an electrician and a plumber would be brought in for those tasks and new, higher rated insulation would be installed. After that, Master Camilla's minions would see to the interior finish work. But for now, Collins came out to oversee the work crews as he found time in his other duties, and some of the older boys came out also, for the experience, although they seemed to see it more as playtime than work.
Still, he watched Robertson intently when he came in for dinner, until the human squirmed under his scrutiny. "What'd I do?" he finally asked when he couldn't stand it anymore.
"You have not done anything untoward, Deke," the vampire said, his voice soft. "I merely wonder how you will comport yourself before outsiders. We will have company, tomorrow afternoon and evening…"
The Stable Kids grew excited at the thought of a guest, for they'd grown to enjoy the attention they got at those times. Guests were safe, they'd learned; Rex would not allow anyone to abuse them here.
Deke looked at the kids and swallowed. He realized that he couldn't say anything, couldn't appeal to the visitor for rescue, for that would just endanger them both—if the stranger were even inclined to help him. He felt Rex's eyes on him again.
"If you need help in staying here, Pet, I can have you chipped with a GPS locator. It is what the military did to us," Rex added at the human's appalled look. "You will not be tempted to try to run, in that case, and I will not have to punish you for the attempt."
"No…" Robertson gasped, startled, then got himself back under control. There would be no escape for him… "I'll behave myself; you have my word."
There it was: no escape, no trouble. He was stuck here, and really, it wasn't so bad. Yeah, the vampires killed—he could do nothing to stop that—but now he'd met and talked with the would-be victims that these same killers had rescued. How many others would be victimized if the vampires were stopped? Sometimes, he'd come to realize, you could do more harm by interfering than by leaving an obviously bad situation alone. He felt a cold hand come down on his shoulder gently in reassurance and comfort. A glance to his left showed him the young vampire, Steve, beside him with a look of concern on his face. He tried to muster up a grin for the man who tried to comfort him.
"You've barely touched your dinner," Steve said. "Not hungry?"
"Not really," Deke admitted. More upset, really, but he wasn't going to say that.
"Come on, then; I'll see you settled for the night." Steve extended that invitation to Sammy also, for he could see the envy in the former Pet's eyes. The three men left the table in a quiet knot, Deke somewhat reluctantly.
Taylor looked at his Master. "You're gonna have t' do something about Sammy, Rex. He's not happy, an' he's jealous of Deke. That's a bad combination, O vampire mine."
"I know; I am just not sure what to do," Rex admitted, pushing away from the table himself. "Come walk with me; perhaps we can think of something."
"You're not used to coping with personnel problems like these; you can't just stake 'em like you would vamps," Taylor commented as he settled beside the vampire, back in Rex's sitting room. "Seems to me like Deke is the least of your worries. Chen's jealous and lonely; Rebecca's goin' off the rails for some unknown reason… At least Corey took care of that creep Ray last year. That'd be all we needed now." He gave a snort of disgust as he recalled that Childe.
"Rebecca is having problems with her Pe… her companion," Rex said absently, then looked more sharply at his Pet. "Do you know why?"
"Not really. I thought Craig might be the one t' have that kind of trouble; us military guys don't cope real good with the concept of guy-guy relationships, 'specially at first. Becka shouldn't have that problem…unless her companion has a girlfriend? Some of us try to be monogamous," he explained at the vampire's questioning look. "What happens if he won't sleep with her willingly?"
"Normally that would not be an issue, for she is too young to have a Pet," Rex answered thoughtfully. "But all of the Nightstalkers have Pets—that was Joey's problem: he was too full of himself, getting a Master's privileges while he was still too young. If Rebecca's Pet is not willing, she may force him, but I doubt she will, since everyone else she sees has willing Pets."
"So you're sayin' she's jealous too?"
"That is very possible," Rex conceded.
"I bet Sammy'd bed her," Taylor joked, then paused at his Master's look. "What?"
"I believe that you have hit upon the solution, Irreverent One. Chen was military; Master Ripper may find him acceptable still, if he is still having problems with Rebecca. I will call him later tonight and ask. Now though…"
Taylor grinned at his vampire. Yeah. Now, he thought as he let himself be held closely, content with his life.
~oOo~
To say that Daniel felt nervous as he drove up to the gates of the Waggoner Academy was an understatement. He'd called in sick to his fast-food job so he could see the place while it was still somewhat light out, although that might send the wrong message about his reliability. He stopped his old wreck of a car in the driveway, looking in at the house and grounds.
Here and there a few patches of old snow tenaciously hid in protected shadows, refusing to be melted by the slowly warming weather. The windows of the building at the end of the drive reflected back the last of the orange glow of the setting sun. The building itself was a weathered stone, although he could catch glimpses of smaller (by comparison) brick buildings behind the main one. It was apparent that work was still being done on the property; some of the roofs still looked old, while others—the main building most notably—had clearly been replaced not that long ago.
Winter-dead gardens were evident around the house, along with bushes that had been trimmed into submission after many years of neglect. He could recognize the look; he'd done some restoration work among his many other jobs. But it boded well for the future, for it told Daniel that Mr. Alexander was serious about making a go of this place, of providing a good shelter for his runaways. It said that he had money to spare for the little things in life.
Gathering up his courage, he put the car in gear and drove up to the main building and the small parking area just in front of the door. He didn't pause now, cutting off the engine and going to knock. The door opened almost immediately, reminding Daniel of old movies, where butlers seemed to be waiting for someone to come all the time. But this man was in casual clothes, not formal wear like a movie butler.
"Can I help you?" the man asked with a neutral expression on his face.
"I'm Daniel Weaver; I have an appointment to see Mr. Alexander." Daniel watched as the man's face lit in welcome.
"Come on in—I'm Dobbs, by the way," he said as he swung the door wider. "I've been overseeing the kids' studies. It'll be nice t' have a real teacher here for 'em, although I don't mean to quit what I've been doin'." He waited while Daniel removed his heavy coat and gloves, then took them and set them aside in a small cloakroom just to the side of the entryway, hiding his grin as he watched this newcomer look around the main lobby in wonder. "If you'd come this way, please, Ma—Mr. Alexander is in his office."
Daniel followed his guide, his attention skipping over that slight correction in Dobbs' speech. He could hear children's voices somewhere out of sight—they sounded older, like teenagers, mostly, although he couldn't be certain. But they'd gone through towards the back of the building, and Dobbs was knocking on a closed, heavy wooden door.
"Yes?" a familiar voice asked as Dobbs opened said door slightly to stick his head inside.
"Mr. Weaver is here, sir," he announced, then Dobbs opened the door wider and stood back with a grin.
Daniel took one more deep breath—so much was riding on this interview—and walked in.
He found, not a bare office, but a room that was comfortable, a small fire merrily burning in the fireplace off to one side. An old, well-restored desk sat to one side of curtain-draped windows, wooden file cabinets against the wall. Oriental rugs provided islands of color on the polished wood floor; antique (or good reproduction) hunting prints hung on the walls, which were also panelled in wood, but a lighter-toned variety. It looked more like a smoking room in an old mansion than a cold headmaster's office. The comfortable-looking, leather-upholstered chairs grouped around the fireplace only added to that impression. Only the very modern-looking computer that sat on the desk told him that he'd not stepped back in time.
The headmaster, Mr. Alexander, waited for him in a high-backed chair behind that desk, a second man in a chair set off to one side. A last chair sat in front of the desk, probably for him, Daniel thought as he came to a stop beside it.
"Welcome, Mr. Weaver," Rex said with a smile as he rose to greet his visitor. "I am glad that you could make it."
"Thanks for asking me," Daniel said, casting a slightly concerned look at the third man in the room. Was this another interviewee? Competition for the position? he worried, trying to hide his nervousness.
Rex could smell it on him, the need to make a good impression, to get this job. It would not do to let on that he knew this, though. "Please, be seated; we have plenty of time to talk before dinner is ready, enough to throw in a tour of some of our facilities. This is Rob Taylor, Mr. Weaver; he is my personal assistant," he said as he indicated the other man.
Daniel relaxed at that even as Taylor offered his hand in greeting. He had noticed that Alexander did not offer to shake; he mentally shrugged that off—some people just didn't like to touch casually. "Pleased to meet you," he said as he released Taylor's hand.
The three men sat then, but to Daniel's surprise, he was not grilled about his qualifications or education. Instead, the conversation seemed to flow along casual channels, shifting from topic to topic until they finally reached legends and horror movies. For some reason, Mr. Alexander seemed very interested in his speculations on supernatural creatures. Several times Daniel caught Rob Taylor hiding a slight grin for some reason.
But at last, the man behind the desk rose once more. "Would you care for a brief tour, and to meet some of my residents?" Rex asked, keeping a carefully neutral tone.
"I'd love it," Daniel answered, also rising. He followed after his host, accompanied by Taylor. Daniel noted that Taylor seemed to be carefully watching him, almost like a bodyguard.
He lost that line of thought as soon as they entered what was clearly a classroom. Every desk there had a laptop on it, though most were shut down for the night. A few still had students working on them, and Daniel was amazed to realize that they didn't seem to resent the extra time being spent there.
Rex looked at who was still at work and cringed—there would soon be more of that "fan fiction" featuring the…athletic…activities of himself and Taylor, if he were not mistaken. "These are some of our budding authors—although you do not want to read their work if you have delicate sensibilities or stringent morality," Rex warned with a smile. The young people there grinned at him, the gleam in their eyes confirming his suspicions. His smile grew wider. "This is Mr. Weaver; he may be joining us, to teach mathematics. Do any of you have any writing fit to show an outsider? I do not wish him shocked or frightened away…"
"I do, Ma…uh, Sir," one girl said, her correction more evident to be heard. She tapped a few keys, then pushed back from her laptop. "This is a…fantasy work, an essay on the social structure of vampire society," she carefully explained. "It's gen, sir," she quickly added for Rex's benefit, causing his concerned look to fade.
"I've got a historical piece set in Victorian England, sir," one of the other girls offered, then blushed. "It's a bit of a Mary Sue, though. I haven't gotten to the juicy parts yet, so it's still safe."
Daniel stood there, stunned that these teenagers would admit to writing such things to their headmaster.
Rex just smiled gently at him. "Go ahead, read if you wish. Carol, there, won recognition in the Governor's Essay competition last year. She is quite good, as are the others; they were just too shy to try entering anything appropriate. As to being appalled by their choices of topics…these young people know too much of the world; I would be a hypocrite if I said otherwise. They are all runaways; some were rescued off the very street. I am not about to force them to pretend to ignorance and an innocence that they no longer have. We all have our dark secrets, after all, and this writing seems to help them heal."
Slowly Daniel nodded, then stepped forward and began to read. He found himself captivated; this was nothing like he'd expected. He tore himself away from the first piece to see what this "Mary Sue" thing was—he'd never heard the term before.
He looked at Rex finally. "This is incredible. The detail paints such a picture…" he said, deeply impressed.
"We encourage them to research their interests, to lend verisimilitude to their writing," Rex admitted with pride. "But shall we go on?" He indicated the door, pausing just long enough to thank the two girls who had shared their work with this stranger.
Eventually they ended up back in Rex's office. Daniel was thoughtful as he sat once more. "You know, I'm surprised that none of them were uneasy around me, considering their backgrounds."
"They have no reason to be worried here," Rex answered nonchalantly. "They know that I would shred anyone who offered them harm."
Daniel started to grin at that, then froze as he realized that he'd heard an actual threat there. He tried to make a joke of it. "You'd still have to hide the bodies," he said, forcing a smile.
"Around here it would be easy," Taylor suddenly said. He'd been fairly quiet during the tour, leaving the conversation up to his Master. "We wouldn't have to hide anything; the evidence would just turn to dust and blow away."
Again Daniel froze, but Rex smiled. "It is not so dire as that. But tell me, do you think you might like to live and teach here? We are renovating one of the smaller dormitory buildings into apartments; would you care to see those?"
"You mean…?" Daniel was half afraid to voice the question.
"The position is yours, if you still want it once we've eaten," Rex replied, watching the human carefully now. "The whole household will be there, including all of the young people. Any questions you might have after that, I will gladly answer. But we should go now, before it gets cold; I can smell that it is nearly ready. I hope that you like Italian; Collins does a very good lasagne," he gave it the Italian pronunciation, "both with meat or just vegetables, although we do not have many vegetarians here."
He ushered Daniel out the door, Taylor briefly leaning into his Master's side. "I like him; hope he stays," the human murmured just for his vampire's ears. Rex smiled in agreement, then moved to lead the way.
There was a rowdy group of teenagers in the dining hall when they reached it, although they quickly settled down as they noticed their headmaster enter with his guest. Happy laughter and conversation still flowed among the teens, thirty or forty in number, Daniel estimated, although there was room for many more. These all took places at long tables, set much like the Great Hall scene from those Harry Potter movies. The adults here had their own large table, although they sat on both sides of it, leaving some backs towards the "residents," as the headmaster referred to them.
The adults… Daniel looked at them thoughtfully. All men—young men at that—none older than their thirties. Dobbs was the only black adult in the room besides himself, and they were both very light-skinned. The kids, though, were a very representative mix of races and skin tones, so he couldn't even try to find prejudice here. Everyone looked contented and happy—except for one of the dark-haired adults. But Daniel could feel eyes on him, a hot gaze burning through his skin. He tore his eyes away from the kids, turning his attention back to the headmaster.
"Do we measure up to your standards?" Rex asked, his voice laced with amusement. "Come, join us at table. I do not know your religious preferences, but we usually offer thanks before the evening meal—I hope this will not offend you, but it is a practice that I insist on."
"I don't have a problem with that," Daniel said as he moved to the empty seat that was clearly meant for him. "My mama used to do that, too; I've kinda missed it." He watched as a number of pans of lasagne were brought out of a small hatch—a dumbwaiter from the kitchens, he realized. One was in a green casserole dish, which was set to one side on a small table. Four girls and one boy rose from their seats, carrying plates, and went to it—this, Daniel realized, was the vegetarian offering. Four plates, already served up, came out next and were placed before Mr. Alexander and three of the other men at the "head" table—their sauce looked darker, somehow. Four large, opaque mugs came out last, going to the same four people, one of whom seemed not to like lasagne, for his plate was pushed back from him and ignored.
But Daniel's thoughts were sidetracked as everyone rose from their seats, falling silent while the man who'd been in the office with them—Taylor—said a short, simple grace. The noise level promptly resumed once an "Amen" was said by all, and everyone sat to eat. Before he could begin, though, Mr. Alexander passed him a sheet of paper, folded once lengthwise, and a pen. He looked up at his host in confusion.
"I am afraid that I must ask you to read and sign that, before we go any further," Rex said, almost apologetically. "It is necessary, whether you decide to take the position or not."
Opening out the sheet, Daniel looked at it, more puzzled than before. A non-disclosure agreement? Why would he have to sign… Then he froze, when he saw mention of the Patriot Act and the Official Secrets Act. He read over the document more carefully, but was no better informed. He looked at his host, his temper rising.
"I mean you no insult," Rex told him, for he could sense feelings of hurt and betrayal coming from his guest. "This is necessary, to protect certain individuals here, not because we feel you to be untrustworthy. I will explain more fully after dinner, but you will need to sign that, please, if you wish a fuller explanation."
What, was this place stuffed with kiddie geniuses, hidden away here by the government? Still disgruntled, Daniel signed where indicated, albeit reluctantly, then passed the paper back. "So what's so special about these kids?" he demanded truculently.
A soft growl sounded to his left, but he saw no animal there when his head whipped around. Rex snapped out a sharp, "Steve!" Even as Daniel looked, one of the paler men sitting beside him looked slightly shamefaced, but that was all.
"It is not the children that this is meant to protect, but some of us—and yourself, for now you will be safe to leave here, should you wish. But please, eat your dinner while it is hot. There is nothing harmful in it, I promise you."
Three more adults came in then, one of them Asian and one Latino in appearance. These last two went, not to the head table, but to the larger ones, sitting near some of the older residents. They dug into their plates of food eagerly, joining in their tablemates' conversations readily. The third had a seat at the head table.
Periodically, one or another of the young people rose and went to a door off to one side of the room, returning with a pitcher to pour out into the cups of the younger ones. A butler's pantry, Daniel realized, looking then at his own empty cup.
Taylor caught his glance and grinned. "If you want any, there's coffee- and tea-makings in the pantry there," he indicated that door with his head. "We get that for ourselves; that way, Collins and whoever's helpin' him gets t' eat with everyone else. They're part of th' 'family' too, ya know."
Finally, Daniel made himself settle enough to eat. It was good, he decided, well worth the trip out here, for the meal if for nothing else. He found himself cleaning his plate and going back for seconds. "What, no vegetables?" he asked as he started in on the refilled plate.
He got a grin in response. "There's spinach in the lasagne," one of his other tablemates said. "A couple of the kids objected at first, but they all complain now if it's left out. Sneaky is good, yeah?"
He had to laugh at that innocent look on…Steve's face. "Sometimes, yeah, it is," he had to agree. He settled down to watching everyone as he finished his meal, starting to feel contented again… until he happened to catch sight of the contents of Steve's mug. It looked like…blood?! He froze, but faces—all pale—were turning in his direction, even though he'd said nothing.
"Be calm, please," Rex said quietly. "You are safe here—an invited guest, and hopefully an employee. No one here will harm you, Mr. Weaver; you have my word on that. But perhaps, if you are finished, we should repair to my office once more, to discuss this, yes?"
He didn't know which way to run…and there were all those kids in danger—if they really were kids… Now his imagination was running away with him, Daniel realized as he tried to get a grip on himself. That was all just superstitious rot… His head swiveled wildly as he stared around himself, until his eyes met those of one of the other men.
The Headmaster was standing beside him now, Taylor at his back as Daniel slowly rose from his seat. He moved where they indicated as if in a fog, his mind still gibbering at him. But they only brought him back to the office, to the chairs over by the fire.
"Please, be seated, Mr. Weaver," he was urged, until he eased down into one of the chairs. He jerked around suddenly as if something had abruptly released him, to see his host looking at Steve consideringly—he had apparently followed them from the dining hall.
"I did not realize that you had Thrall," Rex said to his youngest in a quiet voice.
"They tested me for it when I went…for training," Steve answered, thinking about what he was saying in front of an outsider. "Tony says I'm 'way stronger than he is. He showed me how to do it, though he made me swear not to use it for hunting, unless you say to."
"All right," Rex nodded; that was a fair requirement, considering where the fledge had been trained in its use. "I do not have that ability; none of my Childer have ever had it before, so I did not think to test you for it. Do not use it on the… staff, or they may come to resent you for it. Tonight, though, it is well that you did, for Mr. Weaver was about to panic, and that would have upset the kids.
"Are you well, Mr. Weaver?" Rex asked Daniel solicitously as Taylor brought over a glass of clear liquid.
"It's just water, nothing added," Taylor said before Daniel slowly accepted it, then took a sip.
"What's going on here? Who are you people, anyway? That looked like blood…" Daniel looked over at Steve, his panic flaring once more at the memory.
"Gently," Rex soothed again. "It was blood; I drink it also, but it is usually obtained bagged, purchased from the Red Cross. There are four of us here, Mr. Weaver; the children are all human like yourself."
"You're gonna kill them…" He started to get angry now at that thought, but his host just smiled.
"Certainly not," Rex countered. "They are in my care, and under my protection. We will feed from them someday, once they are grown, but they will not be harmed, nor will they be turned. They are free to leave whenever they wish, as is everyone else here… except for one, but he is a special case. You are not here to be killed or harmed, or even fed from, unless you wish to offer. You are here as stated: to be a mathematics teacher to my young people. There are other, similar groups throughout this area that could benefit from your tutelage also, if you still want the position. Quarters and meals are provided as part of your wages; the food is all human-normal and is unadulterated by drugs of any kind. Please do consider accepting the post; both Taylor and I like you."
"Taylor…?"
"I'm human, like you," the man said quietly. "I've been with him for three years now."
"If you're human, what's he?" Daniel demanded aggressively.
"That, my friend, is a long story," Taylor sighed.
~o~
Weaver left that night, saying that he'd let them know in a couple of days. Rex seemed to understand that it would take a while for him to process everything, for too many of his preconceptions had been shattered by this encounter. They had been genial hosts, true enough, and the kids seemed to be more than content to stay there, even knowing what their benefactor was. But vampires?! That would take some heavy thought, and that paper he'd signed said he couldn't talk to anyone.
Just before ten-thirty that night, his phone rang. Daniel stared at it, not sure if he should answer it. Finally, though, he did. "Hello?" he asked uncertainly.
"Hello," a man's voice said. "You don't know me, my son, but… if you need someone to talk to, I'm a safe one to listen to you. I'm Father Olsen; Taylor asked me to contact you, since I know about Master Rex and his people. Here's my phone number if you want it…"
