Meanwhile, back at Honolulu Heights, Hal was in full-blown raging, starving vampire mode, but thanks to Lena's bola he was unable to free himself from his restraints. Because he had drunk more blood he was clearly much stronger than he had been during his last detox, so Tom and Alex tried to guard him more closely. One of them kept him in eyesight at all times, no matter how painful it was for them to watch the creature that used to be their friend.
Tom dreaded Hal's convulsions and the screams of pain and rage brought on by withdrawal because they reminded him too much of his own monthly transformations. When Hal was lucid they could have a semblance of a conversation, and even though Tom knew he was no longer talking to his friend, he continued to speak to Hal as if he were.
Alex, on the other hand, wasn't bothered by Hal's rages. She suspected they were the only time when he was completely honest. What she hated most were his attempts at seduction. His eyes would nearly glow with lust as he stared at her, smiling, hungry.
"Alex," the vampire nearly purred at her, "why are you angry with me? I thought you fancied me."
"That was before you went on a rampage and tried to create a vampire army," she replied from the bar where she sat reading a magazine.
"Could you please come here and adjust these straps? They are binding a—"he arched his eyebrows "—sensitive area."
"No. Way." She ignored the impressive bulge in his trousers.
"Are you quite sure? I can't do anything to hurt you, bound as I am. Just a few simple—adjustments would be appreciated."
She shook her head emphatically, staring resolutely at her magazine.
"Then perhaps you could assist me another way in relieving the pressure of my current situation." His voice lowered in register, a subtle bass growl added to his tone. "I promise you it would be quite pleasurable."
She looked him in the eyes, making sure not to allow her gaze to wander along the way. "Not if you were the last dick on earth."
He laughed at her, stretching in the chair to make sure his muscles flexed and rippled. "Another time, perhaps," he murmured, scorching her with a look before changing tactics and returning to threats of violence against every living member of her family if she didn't release him immediately!
They worried for the first few days that they might not be able to contain the vampire, until they realized that they truly did have a third partner in their attempt to keep Hal restrained.
The turning point came about 2 o'clock in the morning of the third day, when Tom was awakened by a crash and some extravagant cursing. He leapt up from the sofa where he dozed while ostensibly keeping guard; Hal writhed against the bola's restraint in the middle of a pile of broken chair parts. The bola had simply readjusted itself to control him in his new position. By the looks of things, Hal had been quietly working to loosen the glue joints in the chair since he had been strapped in, until the whole thing had simply collapsed onto the floor. That explains why he's been so fidgety, Tom thought after he had turned on the light so he could see what was going on.
Alex appeared immediately, of course. "Shite. Now what?" she said as she watched the black-eyed, cursing fiend on the floor.
"We clonk him on the head and put him in the basement," Tom replied. "We'll use the Crumb chair, it'll hold him for the night." Tom had yet to need the secure room in the basement for one of his 'monthlies' so the gear from Hal's failed attempt to detox Crumb, a newborn vampire, was still there.
"Great! My turn to do the clonking!" Alex cried, and before Tom could protest she was swinging a cricket bat at the vampire's head. Hal didn't see it coming. Alex poked the limp and bleeding vampire a few times with a boot to make sure he wasn't faking it, then rent-a-ghosted him to the basement. Tom followed wearily after fishing some straps from the wreckage of the chair. Sometimes I wish she could rent-a-ghost me, he thought.
Once again they worked as a team to get their unconscious housemate settled securely into a chair. Once again the bola only responded to Alex, but Tom didn't question it. He was just glad to have it there. Hal could have escaped, or killed him, or both, without it.
"I'm hopin' the demon hunter lady don't come back for that thing real soon," he confessed to Alex.
"Me too. Maybe when she does we can ask her to let us borrow it for a while." Alex stood up, finished with the task at hand. "I'll stay with him, Tom. You go on to bed."
"I'm goin'," Tom replied, "and I reckon you can too. He's fine. He's not goin' nowhere." Tom trudged to his room and collapsed on the bed; he felt like he could truly sleep for the first time in days.
Alex leaned up against the basement wall and watched the unconscious vampire for a few minutes, until the gash in the back of his head stopped bleeding and began to heal with super-vampire speed. She grinned at the thought of telling Hal the reason for his nasty headache when he finally came to. Alex carefully locked the door to the basement room, went up the stairs, and carefully locked the door to the basement itself before heading into the living room to clean up the broken chair.
Tom slept until 10am, when the sound of Hal's mobile phone playing Debussy's "Arabesque" on the nightstand next to his bed woke him up. It was Hal's ring tone for hotel business. He said he needed something calming to help him face whatever crisis was waiting for him at the other end of the line. Hal could be a bit over-dramatic at times.
"Hal Yorke's phone, Tom McNair speaking." Tom and Alex had decided that he should answer calls in this manner and he had practiced it a couple of times to make sure it sounded good. The call was from Ms. Alice Monroe, representing the hotel management company that owned the Barry Grand. The hotel had been closed since Hatch's departure, as it was considered a crime scene. The bodies of staff and guests had been returned to their families and the government investigation completed. The management company needed to speak to acting manager Mr. Yorke about the hotel's future.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Monroe, but Mr. Yorke was injured during the –kerfluffle—last week and is recuperating. We can't say when he'll be able to return to work." Tom carefully told the cover story that Alex had helped him prepare. "I'm assistant manager. Can I help you?"
And just like that, because desperate times call for desperate measures, Tom McNair became acting manager of a hotel with limited staff, no guests, a horrible reputation, and absentee owners who had listed it for sale. It turned out to be an excellent fit.
Tom maintained his composure until he had carefully taken Ms. Monroe's instructions, ended the call and set the phone back on the nightstand. Then he ran into the hallway. "Alex! Alex! Woo, Alex!" Tom, unable to contain his excitement, was jumping back and forth in the hallway while calling for her. As the ghost appeared he grabbed her by both arms and swung her around in the hallway once while shouting the good news. "I'm actin' manager! Of the hotel! They called an' I said everything just like we practiced and now I'm manager!"
He let go of her and ran back to his room, calling as he went, "I have to shower and get to work, I have a list in me head of things to do!" Alex smiled at the sound of stuff being thrown around in Tom's room and popped over to his door just as he came tearing out with a pair of clean pants in his hand. He fairly leaped down the hallway and into the bathroom to have a wash.
Alex couldn't help laughing a bit as he whizzed past. "Congratulations! Ah, Tom, that's great! It's perfect!" As the word left her lips Alex caught her breath. "Perfect. Shite, not again!"
She flashed to the basement room and turned on the light. Hal was still there, still tied up and apparently still unconscious. Thank god, she thought, it's not another dream.
The vampire stirred, glared at her and began to curse. "Tell your fucking hound to stop his infernal howling, bitch, or I'll…"
"SHUT IT!" Alex suddenly had the cricket bat in her hands again. She had moved so quickly that she didn't even realize it had happened. "Shut your fucking mouth or I will knock your fangs out!" She held her weapon at the ready.
Hal carefully closed his mouth and studied her, his face expressionless. She had never been this resolute. Something had changed in Alex; there was no softness, no sentiment in the woman standing in front of him. She meant every word that she said.
Hal took a slow, careful, calming breath. "May I ask what Tom is so excited about?" Hal spoke quietly; his sense of self-preservation told him that defusing the situation was of utmost importance for his survival.
Alex took a step back but kept a firm hold on the cricket bat. "The hotel called. Tom's been promoted to acting manager in your absence. He's getting ready to go to work." She narrowed her eyes at the vampire. "I won't let you spoil this for him. You will keep quiet until he leaves. Understood?"
"Understood. Is that-"he nodded at the bat "-the reason for my headache?"
"Brilliant deduction Sherlock. Have you also deduced that you didn't escape?" Alex wasn't in the mood to be polite.
"I am able to remember that much of the events of earlier," he replied, allowing a touch of sarcasm into his voice. "I believe I also remember that this –weapon- of the Seraphin's is the reason why. Perfect."
Alex smiled at his use of the word. It is perfect, in a real-world-with-real-monsters kind of way, she thought. And that's my kind of perfect.
Because he didn't want to use the 'borrowed' Ford Focus, Tom walked to the hotel. Actually, Tom ran partway until he realized that it was undignified for a hotel manager to be seen running through the streets, after which he slowed to a walk with occasional skips of joy. He had just unlocked the front door and entered the lobby to survey the mess when Mr. Rook stepped through the door behind him.
"Tom?"
"Hello, Mr. Rook, what can I do for you?" Tom asked, using his professional voice.
"I thought you may need this," Rook replied as he handed Tom a folder. "We've compiled a list of all deceased employees and patrons. Their families have been notified, of course, no need to concern yourself with that. It occurred to me that you could use the list to reorganize the employee files at the hotel."
"Ah, thanks Mr. Rook, I was gonna call you and ask about that. I'm actin' manager now, so I have to contact the remaining staff." Tom's enunciation of the last phrase of his sentence told Rook that he was quoting instructions verbatim.
"Quite right. Good first step after a tragedy, contact the living. Must keep moving forward, mustn't we?" Rook pushed what he hoped was an appropriate smile onto his face. "You are in charge now? Congratulations, Tom, I'm sure you will do well." He held out his hand, which Tom took quickly for a professionally firm handshake.
"We have retrieved a car that we believe to belong to your household," Rook continued. "One of my people is bringing it now, and will be in to give you the keys shortly. Is there anything else we can do for you at present?"
"About Natasha—"Tom hesitated to ask.
"Of course. My family traditionally are members of Merthyr Dyfan parish. You will find her in the cemetery there. We've had a delay on her gravestone, due to present circumstances, but I have placed a temporary marker." Rook spoke while writing on a small notepad. "Here are the coordinates." He tore out the page and handed it to Tom.
"Tom, I—well, I appreciate the fact that you still care about Natasha after what you have learned," Rook said.
"Well, I can't really blame her, can I? She was just doin' what you asked of her, weren't she? I reckon she didn't see that she had much choice in it, her respectin' you and wantin' to be like you and aught. She was a grand girl, and she deserved better." Tom spoke with a simple honesty that Rook found hard to match.
"Yes, she deserved much better," he said, "and so did you." Rook turned to go, head slightly bowed.
Tom watched him leave before heading to the manager's office. He tried not to let the dried blood and destruction get to him as he went. First things first, he thought. Find out who is willing to come back to work here, assemble the team, and then start the cleanup.
# # #
Thanks to FedEx it took Lena's Aunt Ruby, actually a niece many times removed, just a few days to ship her passport, bank cards, laptop, and cell phone from her home in the States to Istanbul. The company was currently offering efficient shipping worldwide, except to and within the United Kingdom. Apparently there was a temporary disruption of services in that area, which the company hoped would be rectified soon.
As she opened the package, Lena couldn't help smiling at the speed with which things happen in the modern world. "Soon my wings will be outdated," she mused as she checked her email, Facebook, and Twitter accounts. Her timelines were full of news about mass suicides and unexplained multiple murders throughout the UK, with theories and rumors running rampant. She sighed. Tumblr and YouTube would have to wait. The last thing she needed was a bunch of gifs and vids of the "British Apocalypse.'"
Lena didn't need the bank cards as she had substantial financial resources in Istanbul. She still declined when Leylak asked if she wanted to go to the Grand Bazaar. Completed in 1461 AD, the Bazaar was massive, with thousands of vendors in areas designated for their particular type of goods. Lena closed her eyes and recalled the vibrant colors of fabric, jewelry, and clothes, the smells of spices and livestock, the sounds of the vendors, arms outstretched, enticing customers to their stalls.
Sensory overload was easy for any person who visited the Bazaar; how much easier was it for one who saw ghosts in the shadows, curses draped across the shoulders of shoppers, evil glinting in the eyes of merchants and tradesmen? No thank you, a trip to a neighborhood street bazaar is plenty of excitement for this tired old hunter, Lena said to herself. As if reading her thoughts Rya, who was also able to sense the wealth of unsavory elements in large crowds, suggested that she and Pinar take Lena out on the family's sailing yacht.
Pinar proved to be an excellent sailor and a decisive captain, and soon she had Rya and Lena working efficiently as her crew. A quiet afternoon on the Sea of Marmara and a few rounds of raki led to comfortable conversation. Rya was a student of history and asked Lena about the great women she had met through the centuries.
Lena shared a few stories of her favorites, from Amazon warriors to well-educated courtesans to one of the world's greatest pirates. Lena had met Ching Shih, the Cantonese prostitute who went on to become one of the most powerful pirates in history. "I was impressed by her intelligence, business and political acumen, and courage. And she protected female captives from being raped. I liked that woman's style."
"Were you a pirate?" Pinar's eyes shone. "I'll bet you were! Dad says you like to go on a tear sometimes."
When Lena didn't respond, Rya did. "He may be talking about the slave traders. Our cousin has historically hated the slave trade and has acted out against it most vehemently."
Lena's eyes narrowed as she looked at Rya. "I don't discuss my battles. But you may be right. I met Ching Shih while hunting slavers. Slavery is the worst thing humans can do to each other; it is a creation of evil that breeds more evil and destroys the souls of all those involved."
"And…" Pinar queried.
Again Lena remained silent, and again Rya spoke. "According to Seraphin Nepos history our cousin has released slaves, destroyed property, and punished slaveholders, generally by branding, whipping, or hanging."
"That sounds terrible!" Pinar wasn't privy to Seraphin history so the idea of a Seraphin Nepos choosing how to punish people made her uncomfortable.
"Turnabout is fair play, after all." Lena gave a quick half-smile that turned to a tight frown. "Unless they're in the sex trade. Sex slavers must die."
"What..do you.." Pinar's question was interrupted by Lena's grim look and shake of the head.
"She cut off their genitals and let them bleed to death, then gathered up the bits and bobs and pinned them up somewhere as a warning to others." Rya finished the story triumphantly, apparently quoting from a transcript.
"My god!" Pinar look horrified. "How could you do that?"
Lena shrugged, "I was born in a time when crime and punishment were much more straightforward." She looked at the young human and her sister, a gentle Seraphin Nepos who would never be called to war.
"I walk through a world where the souls of men lay naked before me. I see them, I judge them, at times I kill them. This is what I am. This is what I chose to be, when mankind was young and monsters were newly born in the world."
Lena took a sip of raki and looked out over the water for a minute before exclaiming, "But enough of this. Let's have happy talk! Tell me about your families, your husbands. You both seem very happy."
Rya began the inevitable conversation, "My husband Raghib pleases me greatly, of course."
"Of course," Pinar giggled. "His name means 'desirous and willing' after all. What more do you want? I've only known one man, so I can't make comparisons, but I believe that my husband is well-equipped for the job of keeping me happy." She giggled again. "Speaking of well-equipped…" She looked at Lena, as did Rya.
"Bullshit, the both of you. I can see the setup a mile away. You're not going to get me talking. Besides, the size of the equipment is less important than the skill of the operator." She smiled to herself. "Trust me."
"Come on cousin, please? You've had so many adventures, you've met so many men, and dad says that you once even charmed an incubus into cutting his own throat." Pinar shuddered slightly. That wasn't actually the kind of story she was hoping for.
"Sorry girls, your dad asked me to watch my language around the children," Lena smirked.
"We aren't children," Rya murmured with a sly smile. "Come on cousin, tell us about a man you've charmed. What exactly do you consider well-equipped?"
Pushing aside the memory of a young Englishman with excellent attributes and noteworthy skills, Lena instead told them about the founder of Istanbul.
"You want a story? Here's a good one. I had a fling with the Greek prince Byzas, founder of your fair city. He was an amazing lover, great looking too, built like a brick house. Even better, he was amorous, attentive, and had great stamina, and oh, holy hell was he well-hung! Thank god for my super-transformation powers."
The sisters exchanged looks. "Excuse me?" Pinar had to ask.
"I can take any human form, camouflage myself, part of my gift. I'd heard stories about Byzas and chose a form with suitable features." Lena flipped her hair back seductively and cupped her hands in front of her breasts to signify a substantial increase in size.
"Not fair!" Rya exclaimed. "You have all the fun gifts!"
"Yeah, but I also get all the shit jobs, so it evens out," Lena reminded her. She continued her story.
"We met at a banquet in the King's palace. I came in with a troupe of dancers," Lena rose to her feet as she recalled the cordax, a dance famed for its licentiousness, and began undulating in rhythm with the gentle slapping of waves against the side of the yacht.
She spoke as she moved. "I danced in front of Byzas and before I was through he leapt over the banquet table and carried me off. Which was my plan." Lena chuckled. "We didn't make it to his chambers, he just pinned me against the wall in a corner. There was something about that man." Lena shivered and sat down as if the memory made her knees weak.
"He had the equipment and the skill, and enough staying power to keep me very happy. We spent hours, sometimes days, in his chambers, not even bothering to put clothes on. We had sex in every position we had ever heard of and a few we made up. It was perfect. So of course it couldn't last." She sighed and took another sip of raki.
"Byzas was ambitious. He wanted to establish a new settlement on the Bosporus and I came with him, wasn't about to let his glorious cock out of my sight. The relationship fell to pieces once he got busy building Byzantium. So I left. End of story."
But it wasn't the end of the story. Lena had truly cared for Byzas and had planned to spend the remainder of his life with him and help him establish the settlement that bore his name. She hadn't just left; she had been called away on Seraphin Nepos business. When she returned to Byzantium several months later, Byzas was married to a Greek princess. Lena hadn't bothered to re-introduce herself; she chose instead to stay with Ammon and his family until after her child was born.
Lena's relationship with the city Byzas had founded continued through the centuries. As Byzantium became Constantinople, capital of the Roman Empire and wealthiest city in the world, Lena returned to stand with Ammon and battle the cursed beings and demon-driven creatures that gathered there. She eventually stopped being surprised at how many of them were church-supported. She saw the Crusades rise against the 'enemies of Christ' and fall into corruption, and she witnessed the fall and pillage of Constantinople during the Fourth Crusade, not by 'infidels' but by those who claimed to be Christian. She watched with Ammon when the Ottoman Empire took the city in 1453 and renamed it Istanbul.
When Lena looked across the water she saw centuries of blood and war on the landscape of the ancient capital. Her own battles hadn't been against armies but against the monsters who fed off the desolation of war: the unseen enemy that was often at the heart of war, calling up evil in the souls of men and feasting on the carnage they created. That was Lena's story, more than any love won, lost, or abandoned. Her story was written in blood and ash and black, bitter dust.