Come Softly into the Night
Chapter 2: A Nighttime Trade
Simon awoke on a sofa not his own. The ceiling above was a pale cream, lightened from the sun, which peeked through high windows. The wallpaper was diamond-pattered and cheery in pale greens. Well, it wasn't David's dingy one-bedroom apartment, and it certainly wasn't Aiden and Sera's posh three-story home. Blearily, he rubbed at his eyes with a swipe of his fists and raised his wrist to his face. His watch read half past seven.
His arm dropped bonelessly across his eyes. School was in half an hour. He lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling above.
"Russ, you open in half an hour! Get your ass up—I'm heading to class in one minute!" shouted a vaguely familiar voice. The yell was accompanied by a loud pounding of a door.
Simon sat up abruptly, blood rushing out of his head. His head felt fuzzy for one blissful moment, but when the fog cleared, the events of the previous night became painfully sharp: Angelica, smiling mysteriously. The dark alley that led to the Black Rose. That salesgirl who was currently still banging on someone's door, brandishing a wooden stake instead of an impatient fist.
Russ, the someone in question, jerked open his door roughly. He was wearing a pair of pale blue boxer shorts, a thin white t-shirt, and a scowl on his face. "I'm up, I'm up. Who the hell got engaged and made you boss?"
Bethany rolled her eyes, walking to the small kitchen across the room. She had a book bag slung over her shoulder, and shoes already slipped onto her feet. "When Jon gets back from his little getaway vacation he'll kick your ass if he finds out you haven't been listening to me," she warned as she poured herself a glass of orange juice.
"Like I ever listen to you," Russ replied easily, following her into the kitchen. He swiped her orange juice and took a swig; it came out of his mouth just as quickly when Bethany elbowed him in the stomach.
Both didn't appear to remember Simon, who he sat on the couch uncomfortably. On his lap, his hands didn't know what to do; they fidgeted, fingers twitching. The two weren't acting like he expected them to—where were the crazy supernatural theories? The paranoia? When he scanned the apartment, there was a distinct lack of weird wooden and silver weapons. Simon felt a flush creep over his face. Did someone slip something into his drink? Was last night just some acid trip dream?
His throat felt tight and a tingling feeling of panic spread throughout his chest. What was wrong with him?
"Hey Bud, you want some OJ?" Russ asked from the kitchen, as Bethany headed out the door.
The younger boy realized that he was being addressed. "Er, actually it's Simon," he corrected, stuttering slightly. "And no thank you."
Russ laughed, running a large hand through his dark hair. "Yeah, I remember. Man were you out of it," he said, pouring a glass for himself. "I'm Russ, by the way. We didn't exactly have a chance to make introductions last night,"
"About last night…" Simon began hesitantly. How to bring up the vampires? Simon was drawing a blank.
The brunette looked up, both eyebrows raised questioningly. "What about it?" he asked.
Simon opened his mouth again and then closed it decisively. He shook his head. "Nevermind. It doesn't matter,"
With a puzzled shrug, Russ headed toward his room to get dressed, not closing the door behind him.
"I'm going to head out now," Simon called, already inching toward the apartment's exit. "I've got school soon—"
"I can give you a ride if you like," Russ interrupted, voice muffled from what was probably a t-shirt.
"Uh, sure. That'd be great," Simon said, feeling a little disoriented. He supposed that the previous night really had been some weird, possibly drug-induced hallucination.
On their way out the door, Russ put his hand on Simon's shoulder. "By the way," he said casually, "Try not to mention the whole Night World thing to anyone. It's kind of just an after hours gig, if you know what I mean."
Two black-clad figures were draped over the sandstone steps of J. Edwards High, idle and unconcerned. They looked out of place sitting there in shredded jeans and silver studs with the sunlight hazy overhead, yet there was something about the two that made other students glance at them. Some glanced down at them disdainfully as they passed by, others with a hint of longing.
All went unnoticed by David Rollins in favor of the small contraption in his hand.
A cigarette dangled from his mouth, right next to the tiny hoop that pierced the corner of his bottom lip. From an outsider's point of view, he looked very natural in all his casual rebellion.
If only the damn lighter would work.
For the past minute, he had been shaking the damn thing with affected flippancy to stir any vestiges of lighter fluid left in the blue plastic. With a muttered curse, he flicked the lighter desperately. It gave off a pitiful spark in return.
A cupped hand, freckled and large, appeared under his cigarette. Within that hand, a ball of flame the size of a golf ball smoldered, orange and mesmerizing.
Without even blinking in surprise, David leaned forward to light the cigarette, inhaling deeply. Ah, nicotine. "You know," he said conversationally, after blowing out a dramatic ribbon of smoke. "Sera would kill you if she saw you do that right out in public."
Aiden Grimshaw snorted in response as he rummaged through David's book bag. After a moment, he triumphantly pulled out the carton of cigarettes and stole one for himself. As Aiden lit the cigarette, a tall girl with silvery blond curls pinned up with a black dahlia eyed him speculatively as she passed by. David smirked at Aiden, who deliberately ignored them both. He settled his long, lean form in an impossibly lazy position, which David was positive that only shapeshifters should be able to pull off.
As a werewolf, David thought himself quite the authority on that.
"So where is Sera?" David asked, curious.
"I've got a better question for you," Aiden said drolly. "Where's Angelica and Simon?"
David's golden-red eyebrows shot up into a fringe of black-tipped hair. "What do you know about it?" he asked, trying not to sound too eager. "I know Angelica has some weird fixation with him, but I thought Sera told her to knock it off,"
Without answering him, Aiden casually took a drag of his cigarette. After what felt like a ridiculously long pause, David squirmed with impatience. Aiden raised an eyebrow in return. "Angelica told Sera that she thought Simon was her soulmate," he said, with a slight sneer at the word "soulmate".
"Really?" David could feel his eyes widen in surprise. "I didn't know Angelica believed in that crap." He was silent for a full ten seconds before he had to ask, "You think they did it?"
With a carefully blank expression, Aiden replied, "I called Simon's house this morning. His mom thought he was over at your place." His lips held the beginning of a leer.
David crowed with laughter. "That dog!" he said, shaking his head.
"You of all people shouldn't be calling people canine," came a teasing voice from above him.
Tilting his head up, David met with the upside-down face of Sera Grimshaw, who was smiling in that quiet way of hers. She stood above him, her long dark hair almost reaching David's nose.
"So who's the dog?" she asked, sitting beside David. Absently, she made a face at the cigarette still suspended from his fingertips, and with a deft hand, snatched it from him to stub it out on the steps.
Aiden, that sneaky bastard, had already surreptitiously crushed his own cigarette butt beneath his large black boots; he had piece of gum popped in his mouth. "Simon," came Aiden's contribution.
"The pimp didn't go home last night according to the lovely Mrs. Lovell. Since he obviously wasn't with any of us…" David trailed off, waggling his eyebrows comically.
Sera gave him a playful push, but her expression was worried. "Angelica told me that she was going to take him to the Black Rose," she admitted. "What if something went wrong?"
Aiden scowled. "She took Simon to the Black Rose? Those assholes don't care if what they're biting is human or not," he said darkly. David shifted his eyes away uncomfortably when he caught Aiden surreptitiously rubbing his left wrist.
The dark-haired girl gave her brother a disapproving frown; her freckled nose scrunched up in annoyance. "Angelica's brother is a co-owner of the Black Rose," she reminded him.
"Angelica's brother is an asshole," he said, not sounding apologetic at all.
"Guys, you're worrying about nothing," David interrupted. "They probably just shacked up somewhere for the night,"
He received a grateful look from Sera at his light-hearted comment. "You make it sound like Angelica's easy," Sera admonished him with a faint smile twitching at the corner of her lips.
"Well, she's certainly not difficult," said David with a grin. Suddenly, his grin widened. "Well, speaking of the little pimp," he said, pointing to the familiar figure hopping off the back of an unfamiliar black motorcycle.
Simon was a slight boy, who carried himself unsurely. He walked over to the group with his head bowed down, his bottle-black hair obscuring his face, blond roots reflecting brightly in the sun. In David's opinion, he just needed to lighten up a bit.
"Simon!" David yelled, with unneeded volume. Simon's head snapped up in surprise, and his cheeks reddened visibly. David ignored the other stares he garnered.
"Hey," Simon said softly as he came up to the steps.
"So Simon, my man, have you seen Angelica lately?" David asked suggestively.
The other boy had an odd look on his face. David saw that Sera was giving Simon that patented concerned look. Aiden had simply nodded once in greeting, and returned back to his lazy perusal of their classmates below.
David rolled his eyes. Witches.
That was when the bell rang, sharp and sudden. Hordes of students collected their book bags and binders and headed up the stairs and past the group until the courtyard below was cleared out.
"I'm out of here," Aiden said, when the group was left alone on the sandstone steps. Brushing off Sera's protests, he made his way to the parking lot.
Watching her brother's retreating back with a frown, Sera turned to the remaining boys. "I'll see you guys at lunch," she said. Then she gave David a hard look. "You aren't cutting today, are you?" she didn't so much as ask, as tell him that he'd better not.
"Yeah, yeah," David confirmed with a humoring smile. Before they parted ways, he tugged gently on a piece of her dark hair and said, "I'll be there,"
Sera gave him a small, pleased smile. David found himself returning a genuine smile of his own.
Just another day at J. Edwards High.
"So how was last night, man?" was the first question David asked, as they walked alone through the empty, sterile hallways. Simon gave him a sideways glance. The other boy wore a black shirt with some black design etched on it and jeans shredded so badly that his blue plaid boxer shorts showed through. He slunk through the hallways with hunched shoulders and his hands stuffed in his pockets. He looked completely comfortable, completely normal.
Simon forcibly stopped himself from fidgeting nervously with his hair. "What do you mean?" he asked, trying to keep the wariness out of his voice.
"You know, after Mid-Ill. By the way, sorry about making you hit on that sales chick, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity. I thought you were going to pick truth," David said.
"Sales chick?" Simon repeated blankly. "Oh. Bethany."
"Bethany? So she's Bethany now? When did she tell you her name? And dude, what about Angelica?" David looked torn between badgering him for more information and teasing him about his supposedly lurid nighttime encounters.
If only he knew.
Simon bit his lip hard. "I—I met Bethany later on. Something happened last night."
David's laughing brown eyes turned curious. His languid steps came to a halt. "OK," he said slowly.
"Angelica took me somewhere last night," Simon admitted nervously, unsure of what he was going to say next. He could imagine David's humorous gaze turning pitying, and a cold feeling crept into his chest. "It was pretty messed up. I think there might have been drugs involved," he said in a rush.
"I don't know what you saw, but I'm sure Angelica could clear it all up," David reassured. His expression was slightly relieved, as if he were waiting for some other confession.
Simon couldn't believe he just lied. Moreover, he couldn't believe that David accepted the story so easily. He felt slightly sick when thinking about Angelica, who couldn't clear up anything. Because she was a vampire. Because she was dead.
Simon found himself nodding woodenly.
It was going to be a long day.
Bethany sat with her cheek cradled in the palm of her left hand; in her right hand, a black pen drooped in her fingers. Her professor, a squat man with wild facial hair and a horribly thick German accent was lecturing on Kant today. With a sigh, she stared down at her notebook. Written there were the words "Philosophy 101: Kant", underlined twice.
There was no other writing on the page.
Doodles, however, were plentiful. Wooden stakes dripping with blood. Stick figures with pointy teeth at the wrong end of little arrows. Black flowers of all sorts, shaded in.
"Excuse me," came a whispered voice to her right.
Bethany started in surprise, knocking the notebook on to the ground. It landed with a loud thump; she winced at the sound and turned to the voice. "What's up?" she asked, eyeing her notebook. Could she somehow use her foot to nudge it back?
A slim hand brushed the pages of the notebook, and lifted it up delicately. "Sorry," the girl said with an apologetic shrug. She offered the notebook. Bethany accepted it, shutting it quickly. "I was just wondering if you had an extra pen. Mine ran out of ink," the girl explained, waving her pen in demonstration.
"No problem," Bethany said. She rummaged through her book bag, but only found a stubby pencil. With a shrug, she offered the pen that had been in her had earlier.
"Thanks," the girl said with a bright smile. "I'm Helena."
"Bethany," she said in return.
Helena opened her mouth, as if about to say something when their professor gave the two a dirty look. Helena's mouth quickly snapped shut.
When class was finally dismissed, someone dropped a small folded piece of paper of on her desk. When Bethany looked up, the person had disappeared into the crowd of students heading out the door. With a frown, she hastily shoved the note into her pocket and gathered up her notebooks and slim philosophy volumes.
Her next class was in fifteen minutes.
As she walked across campus, Bethany eased the note out of her pocket, and unfolded it warily. On a piece of paper torn out of a notebook, a sketch of a black dahlia stood starkly against the white paper. To the right of the drawing, there was a question mark.
With a frown, she pivoted and veered sharply to her left, where her tiny blue hatchback was parked.
Bethany didn't make it to the car.
...to be continued in Chapter 3: Spelling Disaster
Author's Notes: Thanks to Strekoza for the review! This is a shorter chapter, but I hope you like it. The next chapter should be out by the end of the month (I hope).