Fangtasia did not exist any more.
Alia certainly did not miss it. Yet the fact that it was not there anymore struck her as incongruous. And, however, the fact that it was gone was another sign of how long or far life had travelled since her previous life. To be precise, all the neighbourhood did not exist any more: what was in its place was an upmarket district with quiet apartment buildings, posh boutiques, expensive restaurants with renown international chefs.
The popular vampire bar had been replaced by an elegant building whose owner, the former sheriff Pamela Ravenscroft, had started a new business with her sister, Karin the Slaughterer, that included a sophisticated restaurant of synthetic food (the first to be opened in town in 2031), a luxurious spa with exclusive vampire anti-age treatments (any service or object labelled vampire in any fashion was an instant success and allowed for double the price), an opulent gym with anti-gravity chambers and a few fashion stores. Some apartments were reserved for important vampire guests and Area Five head quarters (which now included also former Area Four). The new sheriff was a white Indian vampiress known simply as India, Alia had discovered in the files her godfather had supplied.
Alia's flytaxi landed on the roof of the building and the fae sensed immediately her friend's mindprint: Pamela was standing at the right side of the landing pad, her light coat floating behind her.
The fairy hugged her friend before the vampiress could complain and smiled noticing how strongly she responded to her embrace.
"My favourite breather," Pamela whispered.
"Pam," Alia said with eyes full of unshed tears, "I missed you terribly."
"Oh, hey, I left you weeping more than forty years ago and I—"
"But this is joy," Alia grinned, "this is joy!"
"You stop that right now," Pamela replied wiping her own single tear. "Shit, I must've become a fucking old bitch."
"Just a bitch, Pam," Alia giggled, "you did not get old, maybe less bitch?"
"Hopefully not," the vampiress led the way inside the building, "you know, I practise a lot."
"Diantha told me you're regent in Arkansas, now."
"It's been more than thirty-eight years, now." Pamela reached a door flanked by two vampires who straightened at her arrival and opened the entrance to a richly furnished flat. The entrance hall was full of vampires in elegant attire and they stood to attention at the Regent's sight, silencing and clearing a path for the two females.
They walked through a series of corridors, then entered a room with dark violet curtains and matched seatings, opulent rugs and dark wood furnishings.
"What is it this place?" asked Alia sitting on a sofa.
"Where I come when in town," the vampiress gestured to a door, "just a few rooms. This duplex is Area Five headquarters. Did you meet the sheriff?"
"Not yet."
"She's holding a hearing now," informed Pamela sitting at her side, "I'll introduce you afterward." Then the vampiress took a lengthy look at her friend and said, "I guess you've got a tale to tell, right? Forty years of tales and… a little explanation wouldn't hurt either."
"Much less than forty years, I'm afraid," started Alia. "I was in Faery all this time, slightly more than eight years for me. You know, there's a time lag."
"I heard of it, but didn't know it was so much. Carry on… what about your new name? You lost yours?" Pamela's tone light and amused.
"Sort of," Alia quipped in turn. "When I fully accepted my fae nature and my kin, I had to find a new name for what I had become."
"A full fae, by the look of it," said Pamela and laughed knowingly. "And it was about time, my friend. What about your look? Your tits for instance, are they new too?"
"Pam!" Alia feigned an offended expression.
"I swear they are perkier than ever, they even look willing to be touched. May I oblige?"
Alia giggled and offered an amended version of what had happened to her essence. "Embracing my faeness and living in Faery changed me in many ways. My body, my mind, my attitude toward life and myself. It's been a time of learning and discoveries, but," she cackled, then paused and continued mockingly, "my tits are still the original product of this southern land, unadulterated and silver-free!"
"The right fare for these teeth, then," countered Pamela managing to drop her fangs and laugh at once.
"I'll think about your offer," Alia mimicked a pensive pose. "I never tasted a female…"
"It's definitely time to broaden up your horizons, fae."
"Oh, I really missed you, Pam. Even your wicked humour," Alia said watching the vampiress with tenderness.
"I haven't yet made a single joke tonight," said Pamela retracting her canines. "And I hate to say that I missed you too. A lot. Shit, I said it."
"I made new friends, you know. But no one has the ability to cheer me up like you, with your mere presence. You're a breath of fresh air, and a warm laugh in times of need."
"Are you in a time of need?"
"Always. For a drink and a chat. A fashion counsellor. A sparring partner. A travelling companion."
"A fashion counsellor you need desperately!" Pamela indicated her clothes in a horrified way. "What are you wearing, for instance?"
"Fae clothing, obviously," Alia's eyes glinted with mirth. "And I have two trunks full of them!"
Pamela touched the hem of the fae's robe, assessed its weight and texture and said: "The material is amazing, the design is old fashioned but could have its use mixed with something current. But you're just gorgeous in it."
"Flattery doesn't get you closer to my tits, Pam," countered Alia.
"It's true. It's probably that fucking charming allure that you fairies inherit with your intoxicating smell," Pamela huffed. "What about your smell? And what about your hair?"
"I can conceal my smell completely, now," said the fae biting her bottom lip. "My hair? I styled it the fae way…"
"Fuck, Sookie," Pamela scolded her half jokingly, "you can't drop here, entice me with your newly acquired fucking fae charming skills, and not letting me taste at least one of the two." Pamela was clearly eyeing the fae's breasts and her teasing was not so light-hearted any more.
Alia frowned but played along some more. "Oh Pam, do not yield so easily. I've not really tried with you and I like foreplay more than the play itself. Resist me some, maybe you'll provoke the hunter in me…"
"Is there a hunter in you?"
"I don't really know all the mess that's inside of me. I discovered I like fighting, playing some games, and some quirks… maybe I've got a hunter who still waits to be discovered, who knows?"
"Yes, you're more than changed. There are other—"
"A lot of other, believe me Pam," interjected the fae. "Now, tell me what a regent for Arkansas does in Shreveport, introduce me to the new sheriff and to these new premises risen from Fangtasia's ashes. I'm here to discover again this world."
"Fuck! I could even like more this updated version of Sookie. Let's go to meet India," said Pamela and stood up heading to the door.
The vampiress walked the large flat with the confident gait of one accustomed to wield the power and, although less tall than Alia, she towered in fortitude and positiveness. The fae followed her friend watching unobtrusively the demeanour of the vampires they crossed, their careful and quieted manners, their respectful eagerness to please her. The Regent of Arkansas was admired and feared, and oblivious to it all.
Pamela introduced the sheriff of Area Five at the end of an hearing about a vampire who had refused to turn his employee, despite an agreement to do so after fifteen satisfactory years of service. Alia entered the hearing hall while the man pleading his case recounted his flawless state of service and listed all the responsibilities assumed and duties performed in his career of assistant to the judge he had served faithfully. The vampire, it was cleared through the words of his employee, had not come out and no human knew of his nature.
The sheriff, a Brahmin woman in her late twenties, had a fair completion, bright green eyes and black thick hair. Her silky saree sported the same colours, but her pale skin did not benefit from the pairing, and her overall appearance was closer to a doll than a living creature. India listened dispassionately to the long denunciation and, at the end, ruled against the man on the assumption the contract was contrary to vampire law. Turning, in fact, was a personal non transferable right of the individual vampire to be exercised unrestrained, in complete independence (save for the maker or monarch right to suspend it). Therefore, the said contract could not be binding and the choice of turning or not was always vampire's. The man was led out of the hall and the vampire was fined for having deceived the human with an invalid agreement.
Alia, perplexed by the content of the case, noticed a feeling of uneasiness in her consciousness' periphery. The dispute was over in less than ten minutes but her guts did not register the change of subject and, as the sheriff acknowledged her presence and slightly adjusted her facial expression, bending upward her lips in a parody of a smile, Alia rolled the man's words in her mind for a long time afterward.
If Pamela noticed Alia's thoughtfulness, she did not hint at it and took her to the restaurant called OnceWasFangtasia, in the very ground that once hosted her club, and recounted the many previous transformations of the vampire bar. They then visited the spa (Reborning Vampire Club) and the exclusive boutiques in the premises, where the vampiress introduced Alia as a personal friend. The puzzled look of the vampire personnel, and their ill concealed craving, told Alia a dangerous truth: even without the delectable fae scent, vampires perceived her non human nature and were attracted in an unsettling way.
Heading back to the sheriff's headquarters, Pamela was listing all the venue they could finish the night in when the passageway resonated with the voice, rich in warning undertones, of the king of Great Louisiana.
"Where's your tablet, child?"
The sound discharged its vibrations directly into Alia's gut. Pamela turned amused at the interruption, and greeted her maker.
"Eric, what a surprise!"
Alia turned and nodded acknowledging his presence.
"Sookie," Eric stalled slightly, then focused on his progeny and continued. "Not really, given that I sent you a request for anticipating our meeting."
"I'm sorry, I must've missed it," Pamela's voice reverted to a business-like tone matching that of her maker. "I came to Shreveport to meet with Sookie, can we adjourn in an hour? I was taking Sookie out. Or better, join us and then we'll have our meeting."
Alia's voice preceded her thinking. "I don't want to impose on you and work comes first, obviously." Her frozen smile broke just the time to say another sentence, then resumed. "Pam, we'll go out next time. It's been really good to see you. Let me know when you're in town again, I come here quite often…"
When Pamela came back to her office, she found a puzzled king on the sofa.
"The fae told me you two met more than a week ago. How did it go?"
Eric frowned and shook his head. "I don't know."
Pamela sat at his side. "Do you intend to pursue her?"
Eric lifted a brow and said, "I don't think it's that simple, Pam."
"What is not simple? You pursuing her or your willingness to do so?"
"Both, I guess," said Eric.
"Make up your mind soon, then," Pamela suggested nonchalantly. "She attracts attention. Someone could think to court her…"
Eric was silent for a while. Then he stood up and went to a window: the little city landscape visible from the limited height of the building glittered in the night. "She's free to do as she wishes. It's up to her the choice," he turned to the vampiress with an enigmatic smile. "I'll carry on my life as usual."
Pamela retrieved her tablet and unfolded it. "I'm not sure to have understood."
"Oh, neither did I," replied Eric. "Let me hear how it's faring our venture up in the Arkansan mountains, child. Let's stick to what we can direct."
Cataliades firm's headquarters in New Orleans occupied an entire building of the new business district facing the Lake Pontchartrain and its causeway, built anew in 2032. From the little corner room of her office Alia could see the setting of Earth's star and the lit road over the lake. The night seemed always more lively than the day.
Her godfather had asked her what had happened at the royal audience almost ten days earlier and appeared disappointed to know that she had been quite surprised at the king's identity.
"I left a dossier on him and his kingdom, with all the relevant facts. I'm sure it was well highlighted his name," Cataliades observed.
"It's my fault, Desmond," explained Alia biting her lip. "I was so overwhelmed by all the novelty of the place, my brother, my nephews… I didn't read it… sorry, I won't make the same mistake twice."
"I wouldn't have sent you alone had I known you had… reservations on him," said Cataliades cautiously.
"No, Desmond," Alia replied, "I have nothing against him. It's just I thought he… was still in… Oklahoma with…"
"Would you have preferred so, my dear?" asked the daemon.
"Certainly not!" Alia blurted out. "I wish him no ill…"
Her godfather seemed uncertain. And focused on her with unnerving determination. Alia checked her shields and noticed they were relaxed. She fought the blushing on her cheeks and lifted them.
"There's no problem, Desmond, really," said Alia shuffling through the papers on the desk, surprised at the amount of paper still used to that epoch. "Besides, the kingdom is one of your main client, so I'll have to get used to him…"
"Dear, I thought you had moved on and didn't consider—"
"And I have," Alia replied without letting him completing the sentence. "It's been just the surprise of the moment, but there's no problem working for him. Really."
Cataliades shifted his weight from a foot to the other.
"I'm glad to hear that, because your schedule will be quite crowded with this kingdom's business," the daemon finally said. "Barry's son… do you remember Barry Horowitz?"
Alia nodded.
"Leonard Horowitz works here with us. He's a telepath too, but not of your… power. He reads just humans, but he's somehow prudish to use his gift and… well, he works especially with security and isn't very fond of vampires."
"And Barry?" asked Alia glad to change subject.
"Dead. A few years already." Cataliades did not like to remember it, and continued briskly his overview of the work she was expected to do. "At any rate, even if Northman has the exclusive service of a good telepath, your nephew Hunter, there's—"
"Hunter works for Eric?" Alia had found him mentioned in the files, but it had been a brief notation and did not explain his involvement.
"Yes. I did not want to write it down explicitly as I know how you recommended to protect him…" The daemon moved back and fro on the balls of his feet. "I think you'll prefer to talk to him about it…"
"Desmond!" Alia said. "Say what you have to, please."
"He's in a mission for the king," started Cataliades, "with his second-in-command and—"
"Karin?"
"Yes. They will be back shortly, I think," the daemon seemed embarrassed. "He knows you're here with us, and is eager to meet you again."
"It will be great," Alia said. His godfather's behaviour was hesitant. "Is he fine, Desmond?"
Cataliades smiled. "Very fine, my dear. He's happy doing what he does and enjoys… a pleasant life. But hear him out, he'll tell you all."
"I certainly will," the fae nodded.
"Now," Cataliades resumed his business-like attitude, "your first assignment is in Denver, next week."
"Denver? It sounds déjà vu…"
"What do—"
"Nothing, just a memory," Alia had a vision of a silver bullet she had extracted from a certain chest and blushed, cursing mentally her stupid mind and its untimely recollections. "So, Denver. Where's the dossier?"
As Cataliades left the fae browsed through papers and videos, wondering what her godfather had not said. It was not the first time he had seemed reticent, but she could not hold it against him. Everybody had his motives. Or his fears.
And delving in others' minds was not always a good solution. More often than not it ended up with more questions than answers.
"Rehema!" Eric exclaimed as his wife entered his study.
"I know, I know." The vampiress rounded his desk and reached out to his hand. "You seemed so distressed over the phone, and Cillian needed to come to New Orleans for some of his business. So I'm here."
"I'm not a damsel in distress, Rehema." The black vampiress was the only person, besides his children, to whom he let see his weakness. It was dangerous, among long living creatures, exposing any soft side. Today's friend could become tomorrow's foe. But he had accepted the risk.
"And I'm not exactly your knight," she said quietly. "Sometimes, though, even a twelve hundreds years old child needs a shoulder to lean on."
"And yours is always welcome," said Eric, "but there's really nothing to—"
"Eric," the vampiress interjected staring at him with a hint of a smile. When they had become friends, he had recounted to her some of his life, starting from Nevada's takeover of Louisiana to Ocella's coming and Freyda's forced marriage. Obviously, his love for a human had featured prominently in his tale, mainly as a mistake and a weakness on his part.
Eric stood up and went to a cupboard. "Water? Blood?"
"Water, please," said Rehema sitting on a plush armchair.
Eric offered her a glass of water and, sipping from his, sat down at her side. "There isn't much to say. Sookie's back in Louisiana and… well, she's not the old lady she was expected to be." The vampire sighed and carried on. "Somehow she really became fae. And there's something about her… she's different, not only the fae thing."
"Forty years never pass by without change, Eric," Rehema noted.
"She was in Faery, slightly more than eight years for her."
"Oh," the vampiress smiled. "Tell me the important things, Eric, not these inconsequentialities."
Eric closed his eyes as to recall her image. "She was surprised to see me. Didn't know I was the king. And she was in pain… her hand ran to her belly as soon as she realised it was me, and she was not happy. Pain, that's what I stir in her."
"To be expected given what happened to you two the last time you met," Rehema said.
Eric nodded and was silent for a while. "She called me king."
"That's who you are."
"Not to her, Rehema. It's been a way to put a distance between us."
"Possibly. She has to defend herself."
"I won't ever harm, hurt her," he said wincing.
"You already have. And she is still in pain for that… you said so."
"I had no choices, Rehema, no choices that included her wellbeing."
"I doubt she sees things in the same way, then."
"Her smell…" he mused distant.
Rehema waited silently.
"Her smell is different," Eric kept his eyes closed and a faint smile appeared on his lips. "At the beginning nothing, no smell at all. Then it was there, more sweet and enticing than ever, more fae. And then, it was gone again."
"I heard some fairies can mask their scent pretty well."
"Yes, she has probably learnt to do so. Pam confirmed she did not smell at all the night they met. Not even as human." Eric inhaled trying to smell again her fragrance. "Pam told she was frisky and playful with her, and that she almost convinced her to offer a breast to kiss."
"Pam can be a pain…"
"Maybe it was just Pam's twisted interpretation of her jokes." Eric said. "But the point is that with her she joked, with me she felt just pain. When I found her in Shreveport she couldn't get away faster…"
"Pam was a friend, you were a husband, even if not openly accepted," Rehema said. "But, instead, tell me what you felt…"
"Guilt. Mostly guilt. And longing… desire for something that… I'm glad she let her true nature come out…"
"What do you want to do, Eric?"
"I asked her if she was happy, and she said 'I live'."
Rehema waited, then repeated. "What do you want to do?"
"I don't know. I made many mistakes with her. I don't know if she'll give me another chance." He watched Rehema shaking his head, "I don't know if I'll take another chance."
Eric poured some more water and drank. He was nervous and doing nothing to mask it. "I don't really know. It's not been easy for me either. And meeting her has showed just how much I'm still… I… don't know."
The vampiress crossed her long legs covered by a loose robe and set to wait as long as Eric needed to find himself among his doubts.