"Just give me my cane." I said.
"Cane?" Sarah repeated.
"Over by the nightstand."
I leaned in the doorway for a moment until Sarah handed me the cane-sword. Truth be told, leaning on Sarah was far more comfortable, but the last thing I needed to show in front of Tasha was weakness. Not to mention I might need the sword if Kim was not around for whatever reason. I was mentally regretting the Sibling's Embrace. Had I known that I would have asleep for three days, I would have waited until I made some preparations. God only knew if Tux was still alive. Even if Kim had the presence of mind to feed her, all it would take is for Tux to scratch or hiss at Tasha and that would be the end of it. Then I remembered about my Koi fish and Galileo. There was going to be hell to pay.
I entered the living room and saw it was spotless. I sniffed the air and found it smelt as it should, with exception of Kim, Sarah, and a third scent I could only assume was Tasha. That was it. No scent of rotting fish or anything unpleasant. I looked over at Tzu and Bin's tank and saw it was spotless. They were busy eating bits of shredded lettuce that floated on the surface of the water. Galileo was contently chewing on celery stick that had been topped with looked like crab meat. His half of the tank was pristine as when I bought it. I looked up and saw the ceiling was as I had left it along with the piano tucked in the corner with my violin case resting on it. All in all, everything was in its proper place.
Well, there were a few things missing. In the months I spent building and honing my Sanctum Santorum, I had written down a few things. When I was teaching myself to draw and sketch the human body, I lost myself for a bit and had drawn my version of Spider-Man. All I needed to do was separate the pages into proper issues, go over the lines in ink, and finally add color. It was more or less the same with a few exceptions like changing a radioactive spider into a genetically alter spider and I had actually ended the series irrevocably by having Peter die in his aunt's arms after killing the Green Goblin to save her. I also started other versions of comics like the Avengers and X-Men, but I felt I had learned all I needed for the moment when it came to drawing the human form. Truth be told, I had only chosen comics because I convinced myself the odd ways heroes move would be more challenging and thus more educational rather the obvious truth that I had always wanted to draw my own.
I naturally advanced from drawing to paintings. I would begin sketching with sharpened pieces of charcoal and then, using the sketches as lines, filled in the spaces with color like an overly complicated coloring book. I must have gone through dozens of canvases. While I had read a book on painting techniques, I found it was one of those abilities that can only truly be learned by doing and repeating. About ninety percent of my so called paintings were just fumbling and pathetic attempts at imitating well known pieces from far more talented artists. I began simple with Vincent Van Gogh's still life of sunflowers and his chair until, after nearly giving up and chucking both the canvas and paint out the twelfth floor window, I could replicate The Starry Night and The Sower. The same went for other artist like Da Vinci and Rembrandt. My copies could never pass for the genuine article, even at a distance, but I found it enjoyable and eventually began with my own pieces. I was uncertain as to what to with them. I didn't want to throw them away, but I didn't want to hang them on the walls. It struck me as egotistical as all hell. So they rested against various pieces of furniture all over the apartment, often being moved for my other interests.
Then there were the results of tumbling down the rabbit hole that was music. It began innocently. Just a way to improve my violin playing, I told myself. Then I asked myself, I wondered why did a band need a drummer and bassist? What if it was just a piano, a guitar, and violin? One thing led to another and I found myself neck deep in unfinished songs, plays, and musicals. Mixed in there were commercial jingles and scripts for music heavy TV shows.
"Sit." Sarah ordered
I sank onto a stool as I watched Sarah through the opening that separated the kitchen from the living room as she went to the refrigerator and retrieve a bottle. I wordlessly accepted the bottle and popped the top. The slight hiss told me it was bottle of my carbonated blood. I drained it in seconds. It was not much, but it cleared my head somewhat. That was when Tux leapt from behind me and onto the counter. Just I reached a hand to stroke her, like I knew she wanted, a head popped up from behind the sofa.
"You're awake." Tasha looked mildly surprised. "I was wondering if you were ever going to wake up."
It might have been a few days for her, but for me it was less than a few hours. The transformation was impressive. Last I saw her, Tasha was tied to a chair with silver chains and sheet over her head for hours that, no doubt felt like eons, with nothing making sense except that she was hungry unlike she had ever been when she had been alive. Combined with newly and severely heightened senses and unable to control and focus would drive even the most mental giant to the breaking point. I remembered her looking downright pitiful red tear stains mixed with running make up on her face and whimpering like a whipped dog when I freed her from the chains Bill and Bubba had used to restrain her.
Now she radiated confidence and beauty. Her black short cropped hair shone in the light and perfectly style to frame her face. Her mascara and eyeliner made her even her dark brown eyes pop and her lipstick perfectly matched her skin tone. She had two small dot in each ear. As she came out from behind the sofa I saw she had abandon her punk-rockish appearance for something more mature. She was barefoot, but wore a dark goldfish tight fitting cocktail dress that ended bit before her thigh. Her nails and toenails were the same fire engine red.
"You seem to be doing better." I observed.
"I am still . . ." She seemed to be finding the right word. "Adjusting. Some things are still feel strange to me."
"Rrow!" Tux nudged my hand and I took my cue.
"Where is Kim?" I asked and rubbed under her chin
"Hunting." Tasha answered and looked hungry at the very mention of the word. "She should be back soon, I hope."
"I am, what is the word humans use?, babysitting." Sarah eyed Tasha suspiciously. "It is just as well. I am not familiar with the city to find a safe enough location for the day and you required watching defenseless as you were."
Tasha began to say, "I've —"
"Enough!" Sarah hissed, brandishing her fangs.
"Fuck you!" Tasha responded in kind.
"Try me, whelp!" Sarah growled.
I watched as I Tasha slowly relaxed after a moment and looked sullen like chastised child. She gave Sarah a look that I couldn't tell what she wanted to do Sarah, either throw her to the ground and fuck her or kill her. From what I remembered from my first few nights, probably both.
"She has been trying my patience." Sarah growled. "If she is not complaining of hunger, she is complain of boredom and wishes to leave."
"You fucking try being cooped up —"
Sarah hissed again and Tasha growled as she returned to the sofa.
"I will have words with Kim once she returns." Sarah said. "I am one of the best bounty hunter west of the Mississippi. I actually prefer the feral ones to this one."
"Feral ones?" I repeated.
"It happens from time to time. An accident befalls a maker and the child is left to wander unchecked. I have to simultaneously make sure no humans learn of us and capture the child. Difficult as it is, that I can accomplish with less mess."
"I'm going to assume that this was the last bottle?" I held the empty bottle.
"Yes. The runt did away with almost the entire stock the second night. Your nestmate has been bringing fresher meals so it survived. Once she returns we can hunt. I take it you feel quite weak considering your age."
Normally I would give Sally a call or order takeout, but I was beyond a few, albeit large, mouthfuls. I needed a proper meal. Unless something drastic had happened and Mayor Giuliani ordered SWAT and the National Guard to make nightly sweeps of Central Park, Sarah and I could enjoy a quick bite of gangbanger or drug dealer and have a conversation without being listened to. There was also the issue of Sarah's living arrangement. In a perfect world, I could just kick out Kim and Tasha for Sarah. However, I wasn't entirely convinced that Kim wasn't there to spy on me. Better to keep her close and know then be on guard for the next thing. While I had hardly ventured outside while working on my Sanctum Santorum, I did leave for a few crucial necessitates. One of those were several safe-houses with supplies all over the city. Some were apartments with rent paid in full for a year while others were a bit more elaborate and difficult to access. Truth be told, a part of me, the one that recalled the hard lesson of squirreling away every cent I made for a rainy day, kept nagging at the amount of money I wasted on doing so. I reasoned that, as a supposed immortal, I literally had forever to make more. Then another realization hit me.
I would have to job for the rest of eternity.
Dear god, maybe I did go to hell.
That was when Kim chose to enter. Well, a skinny Asian girl that could pass for him if Kim was Chinese instead of Japanese. In my experience, most need a name to tell the difference. Even as a human, I could tell just by looking at them. To me, it was as easy as telling a redhead apart from a blonde. The girl was wearing a silvery cocktail dress and matching highheels with a small amount of make up. Her eyes were glazed over and she showed no sign she was even aware of our presence. So Kim had met a girl at bar, or club, and glamored her to the apartment for Tasha. The girl had barely taken two steps into the apartment when Tasha pounced on her. Had I been human, my eyes probably would have seen her appear out of thin air to bite her neck, toss her to the floor behind the sofa and pounce again like cat releasing a mouse only to capture it again.
The scent of blood filled the air and I licked my lips just as Kim entered and closed the door behind her. She wore a black shirt and coat that showed off her midriff and matching legging with stylish leather boots. Her hair was done up in a ponytail and sparkled with glitter like she had just been in a club. She pulled of the scrunchie that held her hair back and shook her head to let it down.
"I see you're finally awake." Kim said to me.
"You know me" I offered a tired smile. "I don't do anything halfway, including sleeping in."
"You seem to need more." Kim said. "You appear weak."
"Well, I am understandably hungry." I held out my hand. "Just give me the keys to Carrie."
"Carrie?" Kim repeated/
"The Trans Am." I explained. "I named it after the character in the film."
"A film?"
"Yes. You know, the moving pictures with sound that tell a story." I made an impatient gesture. "The keys! I don't care if you've been using it. Just so long you didn't crash or —"
"It was stolen." Kim said plainly.
"Leave the keys inside and got it stolen." I finished before cursing under my breath. "When?"
"Last night."
"Where?"
"I am not sure."
"Do at least recall the street names?" I demanded.
"It was a numbered street." Kim paused to remember. "6th."
"6th and what?" I asked. "There's more than one 6th."
"I don't know." Kim frowned. "6th something in Brooklyn."
"6th in Brooklyn?" I did a mental process of elimination. "So that means Williamsburg. Was there an N or S before the 6?"
"An N I believe."
"Anything else you can remember?" I asked impatiently. "Like perhaps what a nearby street began with?"
"It was an avenue." Kim frowned as she tried to remember. "A W?"
"So it was stolen on North Sixth Street near Wythe Avenue." I concluded and limped back to my room.
"Where are you going?" Kim asked.
"Clean up your mess and get my car back." I yelled back.
I disrobed as quickly as I could and dressed in some fresh clothes. I mentally ran through a plan of how to track down a car that technically I did not officially own. As much as I hated to admit, I was going to require some assistance. I still had some money squirreled away so bribing my way wasn't out of the question. Had I been human, I could simply tell the police and go about my business while they . . .
"Wait a minute . . ." I paused while buttoning my shirt. "That's it!"
"What?" asked Sarah from the doorway I hadn't bothered to close.
"Just a simple solution to a complex problem." I stood in front a mirror and combed my hair.
"I do not understand." Sarah crossed her arms. "I do not like being robbed either, but tracking down a single car in a city large as New York doesn't seem worth the effort."
"You saw my human life while I saw yours?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Then it should be clear to understand." I adjusted the collar of my shirt before I put on the jacket. "I'm not demanding you help me."
"I owe you, regardless of our relation." Sarah uncrossed her arms. "I will help you."
"Good!" I motioned to the closet. "Then pick out a suit and don't bother with a tie."
While Sarah took off the t-shirt and jeans, I went to my library. This time, I made sure to close the door behind me. I went to the desk in the far corner and slid it to the left to reveal the hidden compartment where I kept the remains of my payment for dealing with Matthew's pack problem. Since normal banks weren't an option or accessible to me, most of it was still in singles. I had managed to turn them for bigger bills in vampire owned after hour clubs that offered small banking sevices. I had wrapped them together with rubber bands and such or used paper and scotch tape. I bent down and retrieved one of the few bundles of 100's. It seemed like a lot, especially considering how much I had spent on Carrie originally, but better that have and not need it than need it and not have it. I spliot the bundle into smaller bundles and put those in various pockets so not have all my eggs in one basket as it were. I slid the desk back into place just as I heard Sarah approach and open the door.
"I trust you have reason for this?" Sarah asked.
Sarah appeared to be one of millions of hot shot female lawyers I had seen up and down Wall Street, smoking outside corporate headquarters or yelling into cellphone as they power walked down the street, parting the crowds with only their commanding aura. My suit fit her surprisingly well, provided she didn't try to button the pitch black jacket. The matching pants did seem tight on her, but it's not like she had to worry about cutting off blood floor. She also had chosen one of two white dress shirts and left the top two buttons unfasten to display some tasteful amount of cleavage. She had tied her hair back into clean and neat ponytail.
"There's a reason armies wear uniforms even though they make them easier to spot." I came from around the desk and walked past her. "Sometimes, that's what you want. Uniforms suggest organization, power and numbers." I walked to where my reinforced dust hung with the holster and sawed off shotgun Sarah had given me. I began securing the holster around my leg. "These, in turn, inspire fear. And as every tactician knows, there's no more effective weapon than fear."
"Anything in particular I should bring?" Sarah opened the suit jacket to reveal a pair of pistols under each arm. "Or will this suffice?"
"If all goes well, we won't need them." I opened the shotgun and saw it was fully loaded. "Still, any spare shells for me?"
"One moment." Sarah sped off to my room.
"What are you planning?" Kim asked. "Matthew had a message for you once you awoke. He is not pleased about what happened with The Patience Gentlemen. Were/Vampire relations are on thin ice as it is and your actions have not been helping."
"Then feel free to give him my response." I said coldly. "I didn't hear a peep about Were/Vampire relations when I helped him with his spat with the local packs. Second, the Patience Gentleman was self defense as well as stopping an invading force. Not to mention, it nipped any idea of Weres rebelling with crossbows."
Kim either was thinking of a response or accepted my answer because she did not say a word as Sarah returned and handed me a small box of shells. I opened the box and frowned at ten measly shells, but said nothing. The shotgun was old and no doubt required handmade ammunition. I nodded my thanks and we left. Sarah and I quickly made our way down the stairs and only stopped when we saw the Johnsons return from a night of drink, judging from the smell of cheap bourbon that surrounded them like a cloud. We were outside just as the elevator closed.
I looked up and down the street. Everything seemed as it should be. People of every race and age walking up and down on either side of the street, clutching shopping bags and pinching their coats tight against the cold winter breeze. Cars and taxis honking and screeching to a stop as they raced streetlights and each other. Everything other then the floor had a thin layer of frost and I gathered it must be quite cold.
"This way." I said as began walking down Broadway towards Walker Street. "We've a bit to go."
"I assume you have a plan." Sarah said as we waited to cross the street.
"Several in fact." I checked my watch impatiently. "But I want to try the simplest first." We quickly crossed and began walking east down Walker Street. "However, that involves getting to Brooklyn. Williamsburg to be exact."
"Should we not hail a taxi?" Sarah asked. "That is what you do in the city, no?"
"At this time of night and during peak tourist season, it'll take too long." I explained as we rounded the corner onto Centre Street. "The subway is much faster and more direct. Not to mention cheaper if you're low on cash."
"I see."
We quickly descended below ground and walked quickly down a long corridor to the platform. I was about get in line to purchase some tokens from the man at the booth, but I stopped when I stepped on something hard. I lifted my foot to see a pair of tokens. I bent to retrieve them and looked around to see if anyone wished to claim them. I shrugged and handed one to Sarah/ We qent through the turnstile and waited all of a minute before the train screeched to a stop.
Sarah took a step forward, but I stopped her. "Hold on."
The doors opened and a small, but loud crowd of people with shopping bags and suitcases exited.
"Now." I said allowing Sarah to board.
We sat down in pair of empty seats by the door. Despite the crowd that had left, it was still a bit cramped. You really can't expect much a few weeks away from Christmas and New Year's in one of the most popular tourist destination in the world. Sarah looked uncomfortable.
"This is the subway?" She asked
"It's how us big city folk get from point A to point B." I smiled slightly.
"You like this?"
"Oh, hell no!." I said said firmly. "We don't want have to. The buses aren't much better and cabs are expensive for casual use."
While Sarah acquainted herself with the subway, mostly the smell of other passengers and the homeless man in the corner, I kept and ear out for the right stop. We first stopped on Bowery and the car was filled to the brim with more passengers. If I had wanted to stand, it probably would have resulted in crushing someone on the opposite side of the car against the glass. To my surprise, Sarah did not take a bite of the portly man when his rear end practically slapped her in the face. To be fair, she was about to when he apologized. At Essex Street, even more people pushed their way on and I was relieved that vampires did not need to breath and even more so for our immense strength that kept us from being squeezed intolerably so. Fortunately, the next stop seemed to be where most were headed. The entire car, except for us a, few teenager, and the homeless man in the corner, was empty when the doors closed and we crossed under the East River and into the Marcy Avenue platform in Brooklyn.
"Should we not exit?" Sarah asked. "We were headed to Brooklyn."
"A bit farther in." I said. "One more stop."
Sarah and I pushed our way off when the trained reached Hewes Street. Sarah practically flew up the stairs to the surface. I couldn't really blame her. The subway is hardly ever more than tolerable. It was part of the reason I had bought Carrie. The subway sometimes has major delays and accidents happen. It would just be my luck to be stuck in the tunnels until dawn or the delays would force me to make long detour that might leave me on the street at dawn. Worse case scenario, given the traffic the city is famous for. I could just find a quiet place to park and spend the night in the trunk. I made a mental note to install a special lock in the trunk that could only be opened from the inside. You just never knew when some idiot gang members might worm their way in and pop the trunk in search of something valuable in broad daylight.
"Are we close?" Sarah asked, clearly sounding annoyed. "Or must enter another place and risked being crushed by humans."
"Not much." I began walking slightly south east. "Just one more block and half."
"Where are we going?" Sarah asked.
"The same place where everyone goes when something of considerable value is stolen."
"The local crime boss?"
"Maybe him too." I said. "If the local precinct is of little help. At least they'll be able to point us in the right direction if that's the case."
"Did you say the local precinct?" Sarah repeated as looked at me as if I was insane. "As in —"
"The police." I confirmed and hid a smile. "You clearly do not know the level of insanity I operate at. Give it time."