Chapter 4: Red Swan
The sun was crouching low behind the uniform row of bungalows as Nora strode through their quaint little neighbourhood, making her way to the Red Swan a good two kilometres into town. Even if—hypothetically—she forced herself to stroll instead of walking at her usual brisk pace, she'd still get there first; the prick couldn't easily leave whatever hole he was hiding in before the horizon swallowed the last of the sun's rays.
The pub struck her as a sensible place for a first (intentional) meeting with a blood-sucking fiend, if there were such a thing; a nice, neutral spot situated smack in the heart of Ashwick provided safety in numbers. The mortal and anonymous numbers of a public space, anyway, which were the best she could get without seriously pissing off the aforementioned fiend.
Hange had begged to let her come, too. Nora had shot down the ludicrous idea swiftly and decisively; her first impulse had been to say "Over both our dead bodies", but since that probably wouldn't suffice to deter her fearless and overeager Watcher, she had asked instead, "How do you think I would react if he brought an unknown third party to the meeting?"
As reckless as she might be at times, her cool logic was one of Hange's best traits. With a sigh, she'd conceded, "He might or might not be as… reactive as you, but I see your point. We don't wanna scare him off."
"We don't?" Because the idea of being rid of this particular complication in her life, no harm done and one big headache less, sure didn't seem unappealing to Nora.
Hange's grin had been slightly unhinged. Not an entirely unfamiliar expression. "I certainly don't."
It was the first proper balmy night of the year. Nora had even left her beloved baggy jacket at home, instead carrying the necessities—phone, wallet, and stake—in her bag. For once, she was going out at this hour without planning to slay, like a regular person having drinks with friends—well, almost—and thus had opted to wear clothes that weren't entirely made of spandex, her loose curls tumbling freely to her mid-back. Nevertheless, her casual black dress with its tiny, dotted flowers allowed for freedom of movement, and her usual pair of well-worn boots were ideally suited for some arse-kicking. One could never be sure.
She waited beneath the awning sheltering the pub's entrance from the elements, browsing books on her phone so she wouldn't look like a lost, very fidgety puppy.
When her already high-strung nerves spiked for no apparent reason, Nora looked up.
Sure enough, he was crossing the street, walking straight towards her. It wasn't exactly dark yet, and the last of the direct sunlight couldn't have been gone for longer than a few minutes. Was his lair nearby?
Levi came to a stand in front of her, crossing his arms. She slipped her phone into her bag and mimicked his posture.
After a few tense seconds, he spoke. "Good. You're punctual."
She rolled her eyes. "Good evening to you, as well. So pleased to see you again."
The shitty excuse for a greeting didn't come as a surprise, though. Maybe the vampire wasn't as unpredictable as she'd thought, after all.
His perpetual frown skimmed over her for a brief inspection. Was he looking for concealed weapons? Disapproving of her chronic lack of tidiness and elegance, the main offenders likely being her hair and shoes? Probably both. Not that she cared. Expecting him to insult her appearance, as he'd done with her 'goddamned yoga pants', Nora was mentally preparing a riposte—just for him to avert his gaze, the subtle flare of his nostrils suggesting offence.
There wasn't any notable difference in his style of clothing compared to the times she'd had the misfortune of running into him during her patrols; today, he was wearing a combo of depressing blacks and greys. Depressing, yet low-key stylish, to be fair. Nora had an inkling that he was the sort of man who drew an above-average amount of stares, albeit furtive ones, and she'd bet people and demons alike hardly ever actually approached him. Whatever it was—she didn't care to waste any brainpower on the irrelevant issue—his clothes were the only low-key thing about him. Or perhaps that was just her vamp radar speaking.
Clearly, neither of them was inclined to waste any time on useless chitchat, so she turned on her heel and entered the pub, knowing he was following without having to look. It felt about as pleasant as someone constantly breathing on her nape.
The Red Swan was only half full, but it was still early. True to its name, red hues dominated the pub's interior to a point it should be triggering for a vampire, from the mahogany wall panels to the furniture and upholstery to the cherrywood beneath the soles of her boots, which didn't feel sticky yet, but people already managed to stand in the way, filling the space with their barking laughter. Nora spotted free stools at one end of the bar; usually, she'd avoid central, crowded areas, but it seemed better suited for this occasion. A safe-ish choice, and with a bit of caution, the ambient noise would prevent anyone from overhearing whatever they discussed.
A hand on her elbow stopped her in her tracks.
She wheeled around. Levi instantly let go of her, before she could tear herself free. It had all happened in the span of a single breath, but the coolness of his touch left a crackling echo on her skin.
Danger, danger, danger, went something primal and instinctive inside her.
Nora suddenly wished she'd worn long sleeves.
"No need to bite my head off," he said, tired eyes shifting from her face—she had no idea what exactly he'd found there, but apparently, nothing friendly—to the busy bar. "But I can't sit over there."
Her brow creased. "Why not?" she asked, somewhat thrown, rubbing the spot on her elbow that he had touched—and stopped the nonsense as soon as she noticed.
This was ridiculous, and so was her pounding heartbeat. Why had her Slayer senses fired like that? She wasn't afraid. She wasn't even particularly irritated, relatively speaking. She was just… on guard. Going for a drink with a vampire clearly went against her programming, and the non-confrontational touch had taken her by surprise. It was so very different when she was in battle mode—and maybe that made sense. Her body knew what to make of it, then, what to expect. How to respond.
That blasted dream with the fire came to mind, the one she'd tried to forget. Apparently without much success. His touch had felt similar and different in that dream: also overwhelming, but less unexpected, for some reason, and more intimate. Yuck. The weirdest shit could happen in dreamland, and the dreamer usually wouldn't question it until after waking up.
Levi pointed at something over at the bar, and it took Nora an embarrassing amount of time to figure out the issue.
A mirror ran along the wall at the bartender's back, reflecting laughing, red-faced patrons.
"Oh, right," she said, using nonchalance to anchor herself back in the present. "That might raise questions. I'd look nuts, bickering with myself."
He tsked at her, then tipped his chin towards the opposite corner of the pub, at a free table outside the mirror's revealing reach. "That one?"
Nora briefly considered. If he tried to eat her, people at nearby tables were bound to notice. No vampire needed that sort of attention, and she wasn't exactly easy prey, either. And they'd be able to talk more freely.
"Fine."
She knew what she'd find, yet she couldn't resist glancing sidelong at the mirror as they walked past, weaving between patrons. Indeed, her reflection was on her own. No one right next to her, even though every cell in her body told her otherwise.
Vampires were weird, and she might just be in the company of the weirdest one.
They took their seats. Hands folded in her lap, Nora waited for him to say something, do anything, but no such luck. Awkwardness it was, then. Like a grumpy statue, he was watching her squirming in her seat. It didn't help her paranoia, that feeling that they stood out like sore thumbs, despite knowing that all the other people here weren't actually able to sense how different they were. No one was paying them any heed. In reality, they at least looked and behaved normal—for the most part. It wasn't like either of them had horns and a tail. Besides, Nora was an actual living, breathing being with a pulse. She was nothing like him.
With that in mind, she said, "You might be unaware, but wearing a jacket inside is considered odd. Y'know, as if you somehow didn't need to regulate your body temperature."
"Smartass." Even so, Levi shrugged off his leather jacket, revealing a grey button-up, open at the collar, stretching across his pecs in the process.
Nora promptly looked away, glaring past his shoulder. She didn't want to notice rubbish like that about a sodding demon. It gave her the creeps, made her resent him for wearing the face of the human he'd once been.
"You get the drinks, I pay." His commandeering tone left no room for objection as he pushed two tenners across the table.
Nora had half a mind to object on principle, but she hadn't forgotten about the mirror issue again. Sighing, she snatched up his money and got to her feet. "What are you having?"
"Same as you. As long as it's not some disgustingly sweet shit."
She scrunched up her nose. "I'm not ingesting alcohol in your vicinity." Plus, she didn't even like it much, unless it came in the form of a disgustingly sweet cocktail.
Nora inwardly dared him to call her paranoid again, but Levi remained all business. "Tea, then. Great."
That, she could live with. "How do you take it? Milk, sugar? A splash of blood?"
She bit her lip, holding back a grin as his glare intensified. He didn't dignify her with an answer.
"Okay, black like the void where your soul should be. Got it."
She sauntered to the bar, resisting the urge to glance back over her shoulder. When she returned, she put down both their cups and tossed the remaining cash she hadn't needed at him. The annoying bugger caught it without any problems, of course. He tucked the money into his jacket and procured a tiny… spray bottle?
Which he proceeded to use on his hands. Because it was a hand sanitiser.
Nothing to see here. Just a vampire, disinfecting his hands after handling money.
Before Nora could do more than partly process this and sit down, he'd already traded his cup with hers.
She gawked at him, but it wasn't about the hand sanitiser any longer. "And you were calling me paranoid." His suspicious stare did nothing to dispute her assumption, so she explained, "I can think of maybe one or two poisons that can actually harm vampires, and they're nearly impossible to get. You needn't worry about holy water, either, because that'd take a lot more than a few inconspicuous drops. But, above all, I'd rather just stake or behead you. Much more satisfying." A pleasant little smile tugged at her lips. "And I wouldn't ever mess with tea."
"Tsk. I'm not worried about poison." Levi lifted his cup, holding it in the weirdest way: fingers on the brim, partly covering it with his palm. "I just think there's a realistic chance you might have spat in there." He took a sip, maintaining eye contact.
"Huh. Talk about missed opportunities." She delivered the quip without any bite, too occupied with this newest peculiarity.
"Gross." He put the cup down, keeping a loose hold on it.
His eyes were steel-grey, utterly devoid of colour. It was the first time Nora saw him in good enough lighting to notice, yet she realised with a jolt that she'd already known.
Right. Because of the dream.
So definitely a Slayer dream, then. Drat. The bits she unfortunately remembered still weren't helpful. Some of the strange stuff he'd said. Her cross necklace, his literally searing touch.
Fuck that. It was useless, probably held no deeper meaning. He had touched her already—fleetingly—and it had understandably made her skin crawl, and now they were, possibly, about to strike up a tentative alliance. Seemed like she was on the correct course for now, time to move on.
Nora cleared her throat. "Alright. What's the news?"
"You got one guess."
She chose to ignore his condescending demeanour to save time, despite the anger it spiked. Maybe she was slowly getting used to it. Somewhat. "So you found the nest."
He nodded.
"Splendid. Spill."
"Not so fast, brat." He leaned back in his chair, flinging one arm over the backrest. "I'll lead you there. All you need to know for now is that it's an abandoned building, a bit out of the way."
Nora busied herself with her tea, covering up her eagerness to know more. "How'd you find out?"
"Tortured a couple vamps, bribed a few demons." He said it like it was the most obvious thing. Like torturing your own kind and a spot of bribery every now and then were ordinary pastimes for a vampire. Especially in that combination.
"You couldn't have tortured those demons too?" asked Nora with polite curiosity.
He squinted at her. "Do you think that's always the best approach?"
"No. I just thought you might." She'd been in the 'business' long enough to know you could catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Provided those flies weren't homicidal. But Levi struck her more as a vinegar kind of bloke, as vampires usually did.
"Anyway," he grumbled, "the problem is, if we wanna get them all, it'll have to be in one fell swoop. While they're all cooped up in there."
She nodded. "Can we rush them?"
His fingers were drumming a silent, rhythmic pattern against the ceramic of his teacup, but Levi's frown was still directed at her face, unwavering. "Sounds like a fun way to find out what you—" His gaze flicked to the side for just an instant. "—what we can do, but all in all a shit idea if you're at least somewhat attached to being alive." Before she could argue, he clarified, "There are over a dozen."
Nora deflated for a moment; there was a vague and irrational sense of disappointment over not getting a good, old-fashioned brawl. She shook it off quickly, however, stimulated by the challenge this new circumstance promised. Something was itching in her brain as she stirred her tea, mulling over their options.
The dream.
She dropped the spoon and snapped her fingers, whisper-exclaiming, "Fire!"
Levi gave her a single tired blink. "Moron. We can't just knock on the front door, go in and douse everything in gasoline and expect them to—"
"Yeah, no shit. That's not what I—" Nora held up a finger; she hadn't been that literal, just like dreams rarely were, and she hadn't been done thinking. "I could get explosives." Now that was a foolproof way to do some serious damage from outside. "It involves a pain-in-the-arse approval process, however, and would take at least a week." Her face twisted into a grimace. Leave it to the Council to take the fun out of everything. It had improved by heaps and bounds ever since the Slayers had got a say—leading to the rebranding of the 'Watchers Council' to simply the 'Council'—but bureaucracy (and an excess amount thereof) would always remain an integral part of humanity.
"I can get us something by tomorrow," Levi said without a trace of uncertainty.
"How—"
"No chance in hell."
One look at his expression—a wall seemed more approachable—and Nora yielded with a huff; there was no way he'd give up his sources. The man clearly didn't like to share. Pity.
"That's that, then." He took his last sip of tea, evidently satisfied with that rudimentary level of planning.
To be fair, 'vampires go boom' sounded like a solid enough approach to this… whatever this was. One-night slay? Alliance trial run? Either way, keeping it simple seemed best for now; nifty, elaborate coups tended to require a certain amount of knowledge and trust concerning your ally. Pretty much the opposite of what they were working with here.
"Wanna go kill something?" he asked offhandedly, already reaching for his jacket.
Nora's jaw dropped. "With you?"
"Are you stupid?" Occupied with brushing imaginary dust off the leather, Levi still found the time to frown at her. "We just discussed how we're going to do precisely that tomorrow. Why not do a lower-stakes test run?" He glanced at his wristwatch, a shiny silver thing with a black face and leather band. "Weren't you about to go on your nightly killing spree anyway?"
"It's called slaying, you twat," she protested with a slight delay. And actually, she'd agreed with Hange to return home right after this meeting.
He stood, straightening the lapels of his jacket. "Call it whatever the hell you want." His startling grey gaze was unexpectedly keen as it met hers, searching for an answer. An unwelcome, disarming sort of frisson ran through her. Fuck his stupid demon aura and fuck that stupid dream.
Think you can do it all alone?
Nora rose, hesitant. "I won't take any orders from you." It shouldn't need saying, not even to a bossy prick like him, but this was more than just a matter of pride.
He pushed his deserted chair back in, rolling his eyes at her. "Will you at least listen to suggestions, then?"
"This is a two-way street." She pointed back and forth between them.
"Tsk. Fine, brat. Just don't get in my way again."
"You started it," she snapped, and led the way outside.
This was a disaster in the making.
But at least she'd had the last word.
#
The silence between them was equal parts awkward and belligerent as they headed to the cemetery, the tension so thick Nora could have staked it. No matter how quiet he was, forgetting his presence next to her even for a moment was impossible in the same way it was impossible to ignore static from pulling a polyester jumper over your head (if the static stuck around).
"You never asked for my name," she said after a while, maybe in an attempt to relieve some of that aggravating tension, or maybe because it seemed strange that he still didn't know.
"Nora Weiss. You moved here almost three years ago." Hands pocketed, Levi gave her nothing more than a quick side-eye. "Not many Slayers make it that long on their own, especially not in a Hellmouth town."
He sounded too bored for the throwaway sentence to register as anything bearing even a remote resemblance to praise. In fact, in her alarm, it barely registered at all; Nora had stopped mid-step and pulled her stake halfway out of her bag before making the conscious decision. "Where did you get that?"
She had meant to give him her first name, and that was it. Tit for tat. Instead, he knew not only her full name but also how long she'd been living here. What else did he know? Her address? Her stance on Hawaiian Pizza? What about Hange?
"How rude." Levi quirked an eyebrow at her, utterly unimpressed. "Don't act as though I'm the only one who decided to do some research. Now shove your stake back where I can't see it."
It took a few measured breaths, but Nora relented and let go of her weapon, grumbling, "Don't you lecture me about manners."
(She didn't feel like informing him that her research, so far, had been less successful. Not even the help of an excellent Watcher could make up for their glaring disadvantages; vampires outnumbered Slayers by, what, a thousandfold? And Levi hadn't given them a lot to work with, while having a much easier time navigating the very same demon community that, for the most part, viewed Nora as their bogeyman.)
There was a near imperceptible change about him—something easing in his posture, his demonic energy. On a conscious level, she noticed only after it had faded, together with her aggression: a sinister sort of wariness.
Behind that snarky, unaffected attitude, he was ready for her to turn on him any minute. He hadn't been lying when he'd talked about reciprocating her distrust in equal measure.
"I didn't get the info from a demon," Levi said, "and it took me a while. It's not common knowledge."
She allowed herself to relax marginally. Probably the odd knowledgeable pub owner with a few too many demonic regulars, then. Or one of the witches. Some people didn't care whom they were doing business with, so long as the payment was right.
They made their way to the cemetery without another word. Even if Nora had been in the mood for pointless questions that wouldn't be answered properly anyway, now was no longer the time.
To her gratification, she sensed them before he did—despite his grating proximity as an interference.
Moments after announcing they'd have company soon, two vampires crossed their path, one of them freshly risen from his grave (why cremation still wasn't obligatory in this hellhole remained a mystery to Nora), if the soil staining his suit was any indication. The other was mostly clean and carrying a shovel. Probably the fledgling's sire.
"You." The ginger she-vampire pointed her shovel at Levi. "You aren't human. Why aren't you eating her?"
"That's actually an excellent question." Nora raised her eyebrows at him, arms akimbo. "Why aren't you eating me?"
Ginger licked her fangs, grinning. "She smells delicious." The fledgling nodded vigorously; the greed in his yellow demon eyes was revolting.
Weirdly enough, the exact kind of pick-me-up Nora had needed after the past few days. She smiled smugly, not caring that she was being ridiculous and childish (and borderline deranged). "You hear that?" she murmured to Levi. "I'm a delicious, 'bratty blonde'."
"Shut up." Levi's low voice cut like a whip. His cold, steely glare, however, was fixed on the vampires. "I call dibs on the redheaded bitch. You take the kid."
Whatever had got his knickers in such a twist, now wasn't the time to figure it out. Probably just the demon itching for this fight. It might not look and feel exactly the same for her, but she understood that itch all right; Nora was fighting the urge to draw her stake just yet.
She looked at 'the kid'—a lanky bloke in his thirties—but she got Levi's point. In the sense that mattered right now, the newbie vamp was probably about half an hour old.
Boring. An insult, almost.
"No fair. I want the—"
"Here." Levi reached into his jacket and pressed his stake into her palm. "I'll do it without. Fair?"
Nora didn't get how this had anything to do with 'fair', but she had to admit she quite wanted to see how this would play out. "Ugh, fine. Knock yourself out. And feel free to take me literally."
"Less prattle, more slaying," he said, and lunged at his target.
Dropping her bag, Nora followed right behind, attacking the befuddled fledgling before he could decide to assist his sire.
It wasn't much of a fight. She dodged a few blows and snapping fangs, dividing her attention between her opponent and Levi's battle. He was moving with fluid purpose, quick and aggressive as a snake.
When Nora drove the stake he'd given her into the fledgling, she looked again, just in time to see Levi elbow the ginger vamp in the face and twist the shovel out of her grip. She wailed, her hand flying to her bloody nose. He swept her legs with the shovel and she fell flat on her back.
Nora thought she heard him hiss something unintelligible—right before he drove the dull edge of the shovel through the vampire's neck, severing her head with a single strike.
The whole display hinted at an exorbitant amount of raw strength, even for a vampire.
In the aftermath, there was only ashes on the trodden path and, disrupting the silence, Nora's breathing—somewhat laboured even though this barely counted as a warmup. Levi stood still as a statue, staring at the shovel he had run into the hard earth. No breathing, no anything; he wasn't wearing his demon face, and yet he looked every bit the vampire he was.
Nora wet her lips and cleared her throat, tossing him his stake as soon as his eyes slid to her. "Y'know you could've just broken the shovel's handle and staked her with it." That would have been the safer, less ambitious approach. Bringing the opponent flat to the ground for decapitation with an object poorly suited for that particular purpose did require a bit more… vigour. "Just saying," she added placatingly, palms raised as his frown deepened again.
"Where'd be the fun in that?" That deep, flat voice of his had a hint of gravel in it.
Something inside Nora tightened.
Maybe it was a twinge of fear? That would be a sensible and healthy reaction to that little demo just now—but she couldn't remember the last time she had truly been afraid just for herself. The closest she might get was a passing thought along the lines of 'Oh dear, I'm in a bit of a pickle'.
Whatever the case, she couldn't make any sense of her feelings about this weird and unprecedented situation.
The vibration on her wrist was a welcome distraction, and she was inexplicably thankful for the opportunity to avert her eyes.
How was your date? You still alive?
Impeccable timing. Nora didn't even mind the teasing. "That's Hange—my Watcher," she blabbed, choosing one of the template answers on her watch (On my way). "She's wondering what's keeping me." She chanced another glance at Levi just in time to see his inscrutable frown shift from the screen of her watch to her face. "I better get going, then." She picked up her bag, folding her hands around the strap. "Same time, same place, tomorrow? And you'll bring what we need?"
All Nora got in return was a curt nod. She'd have to trust that he could lead her to the nest before the vampires went out to hunt.
She turned and walked away.
There was no need to look over her shoulder, so she forced herself not to; she could feel him still standing right where she'd left him, could feel his gaze on her back.
All over her skin.