Chapter 6 #2
“Then don’t go upstairs.” Jack chuckled, but took on a more serious tone as he said, “And memorize the safe words. Both of you.”
Safe words in the fake vampire world were ‘holy water’ and ‘silver’, since a significant share of attendees enjoyed some predator and prey ‘play’.
And apparently that meant ‘no’ was part of the game.
Still, I had to give them kudos for having an entire double-sided page, dedicated to procedures for asking consent, giving consent, and how to report incidents, even if it took on a very specific theme.
Holy water and silver could stop everything from stalking to conversations to physical contact. They were a catch-all, no exceptions.
“And how will anyone know if I’m using the safe words?”
“I’ll make you cue cards.”
Todd couldn’t tell if I was joking. To be honest, neither could I. Mostly because I wasn’t sure how effective they would be.
“I’ll make the cue cards since you both have terribly illegible handwriting. Now, how are we all feeling about ‘human access’ on page…” Jack zeroed in on the page number, “…eighteen?”
Todd and I grumbled. It wasn’t our favorite. If we were lucky that would be the most unpleasant part of the evening.
In order to get invited to the ‘inner sanctum’ a vamp needed to find us interesting enough bring in. And the vamps would signify that interest by giving us a bite on the neck. Hard enough to leave a mark. The mark would grant us entry for the rest of the evening, even if the vamp lost interest.
At any other club this would have been a stamp on the hand.
The safe words still applied in this scenario, but without the bite we wouldn’t be granted entry, which meant it was a necessary discomfort.
“People like shiny things. We’re new. It shouldn’t be too hard,” I offered.
“That’s not what I was asking.”
“I don’t like it.” Todd’s response was matter-of-fact, leaving no room for misinterpretation. “I don’t like people in my personal space. I’m… uncomfortable letting someone bite my neck.”
He didn’t seem to mind when I was in his personal space. But then again, I wasn’t a stranger trying to bite into him like he was a piece of meat.
“Uncomfortable enough that we need to find an alternative?” Jack asked without judgement.
“I’ll still do it. But I don’t like it.”
With ink covering most of Todd’s neck, I doubted anyone would notice a bite mark anyway. I didn’t want to get his hopes up, but the wheels of my mind were in motion. There had to be a way to get him in without subjecting him to something that clearly made him uncomfortable.
Jack nodded. “Delilah?”
“Oh, I’ll hate every second of it, but I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again.”
“Of course you have.” Jack leaned forward, elbows on the motel room table, running his fingers through his hair. It was getting late, and we could all feel our beds calling. “Anything else you think we should know?”
“I don’t know much… I tried to stay away from vamps for obvious reasons.
But these consent forms, they’re new, and they do a much more thorough job of…
expectation setting. There might be some other pieces I’m forgetting, but things are coming together as we go.
The problem is I don’t know how much of it is relevant, how much has changed. ”
Todd flipped through a couple more pages, checking his notes, before shutting the entire consent document. “You win. Vampires suck.”
“And you haven’t even met one yet.”
Todd sat up. “The woman in the box?”
“Not a vampire.” Upon receiving two confounded looks from the agents, I clarified, “Jezebel is a familiar.”
Jack and Todd exchanged an exasperated head shake. “A what?”
“You know about tourists leaving Xs on the tomb of Marie Laveau, but you don’t know what a familiar is?
” I looked to Todd for help. His response was an unhelpful shrug which meant he didn’t know either.
“They’re vampire assistants. Still ‘human’, but they have some sort of formalized working relationship with their vamp. ”
“And Jezebel’s vamp is Lenore?”
I nodded. “But don’t ask me how that all works because—”
“—you don’t know.”
I pointed at Jack with a wink. He hit the mark.
But when Jack’s response was rubbing his eyes, visibly fighting off sleep, I knew no more progress was going to be made. We had driven over ten hours, to a sleep-inducing motel, and we were running on fumes. It was time to call it a night.
“Pick this up tomorrow?” I stood, metal jangling in my pocket.
Jack yawned in confirmation. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten about the keys, Delilah.”
Something about his words struck me. I didn’t place a finger on what it was until I replayed it over in my head. Once. Then twice.
Oh my god.
Keys. Delilah. I was such an idiot.
It couldn’t have been that easy. It couldn’t.
Keys clattering on the table, electricity zapped through me as I abruptly left the agents’ room muttering some form of goodbye.
I heard a faint murmur of acknowledgment, as I closed the door between our adjoining rooms. An action I knew was out of character.
And bound to prompt questions. But those questions would come tomorrow.
Once I was alone, I started rifling through my bag.
Why the hell didn’t I think of this earlier?
The key to the damned Polybius square had been right in front of me.
They were Lawrence’s last words for fuck’s sake!
He literally told me that I was the key.
Yes, he’d been talking about what I meant to the Seal, alluding to the prophecy, but my name was as good a key as any.
And it was a lot less random than working my way through a list of five-letter bird names.
My hand gripped the letter I’d tucked away out of sight of prying eyes and fingers, as I pulled it from my bag.
Part of me no longer cared if the agents saw the note.
Everyone, including their boss, Assistant Director Rochan, knew I planned on finding justice for Lawrence.
So, the only reason I’d closed the door was for self-preservation.
Not knowing how I’d react if I was able to translate Lawrence’s last words.
I hadn’t cried in front of the agents, not truly, and I didn’t plan on starting now. A couple tears here and there, sure. But not the full forced sob I felt simmering beneath my surface.
I grabbed my notebook and drew a new Polybius square, using the letters in my name as the key. I didn’t even finish decoding the first line and knew I was on the right track. The first word was my name.
“I was so stupid!” I whisper-yelled to myself.
How could I not have thought of that? It should have been the first word I tried.
My hands began to shake. But I kept decoding, one painstaking letter at a time, and I didn’t stop until I translated the message in its entirety:
DELILAH
I FEEL STRANGE
BEING ON A SEAL
ALONE
I MADE A MISTAKE
ITS ALL YOURS
ALL MY LOVE
LAWRENCE
FOUR TWO ONE
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