Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Aiden
“How’d you get the wheels?” I ask Van as he drives us back toward our hometown. “Do I even want to know?”
He leans back lazily in the leather driver’s seat, his hands draped over the steering wheel relaxed, as if we aren’t rushing down the highway at speeds that should offend any nearby state troopers.
He weaves in and out of traffic, his driving competent and his eyes keen even if that give-no-damns act of his is perfectly polished.
“Do you remember Fitzy from my lacrosse team?”
“I don’t remember any of your rich asshole friends.”
“Jealous,” Van mouths, before he adds, “Well, we got to be friends when my mother sent me to that godawful rich-kid outdoors ‘boot’ camp.”
“Oh, I remember that. You came back with all kinds of new inspiration. Wasn’t it that fall that you started your little black market on school grounds?”
It doesn’t matter how much money Van has. He’s always looking for the next scheme.
He nods. “Anyway, Fitzy was bullied pretty bad there. I did him some favors, and he’s paying me back now by making sure I have wheels.”
“What kind of favors?” Knowing Van, I can picture him wearing the official camp shorts and t-shirt uniform, rowing a canoe out to the middle of the lake on a moonlight night. Right before he pushes a body overboard.
Love the guy, but he’s kind of a psycho.
Maybe that’s part of why I love him. Van’s no-holds-barred, all-in when he’s on someone’s side.
He shrugs mysteriously.
“Wait.” I cross one hand over the other to make the time-out symbol, because sometimes, Van is full of bullshit. “Do you mean you stood up for him and acted like a friend, so now he’s looking out for you too?”
Van rolls his eyes. “You’re so touchy-feely, Aiden.”
I shake my head, holding back a laugh. Van’s a far better guy than he’s usually willing to acknowledge.
“Let’s go get touchy-feely with some vampires, then,” I say. “I talked to that asshole that Izzy hangs out with sometimes.”
“You’re going to have be more specific.” Van’s lips curl up at the corners. “We all think any guy that Izzy hangs out with is an asshole.”
“The vamp one. The one with the crush on her who keeps trying to walk her to class. Starts with a D?”
“Darryl,” Van says.
“And here I was thinking of him as Dickface. Well, he was very helpful. Told me where the vamps hang out back home. He’s probably hoping we’ll get killed, but whatever.”
“Not today.” Van shrugs as if it doesn’t matter. “Maybe tonight, given our new roommates, but not today.”
“At least we can make some vamps pay first.” My hands twitch into fists, hoping we find them today. I know it’s a long shot. “You really think those ‘godslayer’ assholes even could kill us?”
Every day, it feels like my powers grow a bit more.
“I’m not sure even Izzy can charm them,” Van says dryly.
I nod. “Although I almost ran into that Clancy guy, and he rushed out an apology, which doesn’t exactly scream ‘a force to be reckoned with’.”
“Careful,” Van says, his voice soft. “Just because he’s the smallest of the godslayers, radiates a nervous energy, and has that nerd look, don’t count him out. All of them were given the powers to kill us, so we should expect that they can and will.”
I think of Lucus, the huge guy with the black hair and a death-stare. Yeah, Van was probably right. We should be cautious of all of them. The ones who give us the evil eye, and even the female godslayer. We couldn’t trust any of them.
And then something occurs to me. “If they were all chosen for a reason, do you think we were too?”
“Fuck,” Van mumbles under his breath. “I don’t know.”
Strangely enough, talking about the godslayers isn’t what makes dread knot in my stomach. We pass under the highway sign welcoming us back to the town where we grew up.
I don’t want to run into my parents. I heard my mother crying all over Reid before we left.
I direct Van to the first address that Darryl gave me.
Maybe we’re cocky to walk into a vampire den.
Can anyone really force us into a trap beside the godslayers themselves, though?
It stinks how little we still understand about our powers.
I feel like we have the ability to break anyone who tries to hurt us, we just don’t know how to do it yet.
As Van parks in the parking lot outside what appears to be a seedy strip club, he asks, “Are they even going to be awake now?”
He squints at a sign above the door of the club. “And enjoying ninety-nine cent wings?”
“There’s supposed to be more to the place than meets the eye.”
“I’d fucking hope so.”
The two of us head inside the strip club. It’s dark inside, and as I blink, waiting for my eyes to adjust, a tall, rawboned man steps in front of us. He looks from me to Van.
“I think you wanted the club down the street,” he says. “Their bouncer lets you touch the girls.”
Van and I exchange a look.
“I’m not interested in touching the girls, thanks,” I say. I want to touch one girl. Everyone else had faded for me since Izzy came back into my life.
“I don’t think you heard me,” he says. “Everything about the club down the street is better.”
“I don’t think this guy is on commission,” Van says, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
I understand what this asshole is attempting with his awkward words. “He’s trying to glamour us. But it doesn’t work on us.”
That was one thing we’d learned at the school that was actually helpful. The basics of different paranormal abilities and species…although we should’ve polished up on vampires before taking this little trip.
“Glamours…cool.” Van didn’t sound impressed.
The man looks between the two of us, his eyes narrowing. “What the fuck are you two? You’re not one of us, but I can feel your power…”
“Oh, you don’t want to feel our power,” I promise him. “If I were you, I’d get out of our way.”
Van tucks his hands into his pockets and saunters past the man, passing through the thick black drapes that hung between the door and the rest of the club.
Van manages to look like he owned everywhere he went, even when it was a vampire bar. Which is a skill I seriously wish I had.
The guy looks between the two of us, and I stare him down. He steps to one side, raising his hands. “Your funeral.”
“Might be a funeral, won’t be mine.” I follow Van through the drapes, trying to mimic his “I own this place” walk.
The inside of the club looks like nothing you’d expect from the outside. It’s all dark and posh. Velvet-and-wood sofas like something out of a Victorian movie stand around the edges of the room, and waitresses circle the room with silver trays.
Clusters of beautiful people, dressed in evening wear, stand around the room even though it is a sunny Sunday afternoon out in the real world.
“Look at all these gorgeous mother fuckers who never go to work,” Van says. “Reminds me of my mom’s country club.”
“Feeling homesick?” I ask under my breath.
He chuckles, not looking the least bit worried that we just strode right into a dangerous situation. Maybe that was why Van seemed so comfortable in this world of bloodsuckers: it probably wasn’t too different from the life he had to struggle through.
The two of us take seats at a table. When the many waitresses and waiters circulating around--who seem human, all young and beautiful themselves though not in the ethereal way of the vampires--seem to ignore us, Van doesn’t hesitate to flag one of them down commandingly.
“Glenlivet for me,” he tells the wide-eyed waitress. He looks at me. “Is Boone’s Farm still your favorite? I don’t suppose you have any wine coolers for my friend here.”
Such an asshole.
“I’ll have whatever he’s having,” I tell the waitress. “Minus the pettiness.”
The two of us study the room. Maybe it’s too much to hope for that we’d see the same vampires who killed my sister here. We’d have to talk to some people.
I was sure I’d recognize them. Every time I replayed that scene, the one where my sister was murdered by the vampires and their cruel games, my heart quickened.
Their faces were seared into my memory. Every time I thought of them, it felt like my skin was too tight, like I was going to explode if I didn’t get the chance to rip their heads off.
The waitress returns with our drinks, and Van asks, “Who here knows everyone?”
“Ahh,” she stutters, her eyes wide.
“Got it, you don’t want to talk to us.” Van cocks his head to one side. “What are you doing in a place like this, anyway? Do you want to be here? Or is someone forcing you?”
His tone is lazy as usual, but there’s a note of steel in it.
“I’m happy,” she squeaks unconvincingly, then flees back behind the bar.
“We might have more vamps to deal with than just our planned clean-up on aisle nine,” Van mutters.
“Oh man, we might have more vamps to kill? Bummer,” I deadpan.
“If we’re going to be gods, maybe we should make ourselves useful.”
“I thought being useful went against your life philosophy.”
Van grins. “Maybe I’m trying to reform.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” I raise my glass. “Here’s to using our powers for good trouble.”
He clinks my glass with his. “I don’t want to be too good. Maybe just good enough to be worthy of Izzy this time around.”
“Apparently Reid is,” I mutter. “I never thought he’d be the one… Apparently, he picked up some game when he picked up a god.”
My brother and I had a friendly rivalry growing up. He was the smart twin; I was the funny, mischievous one with the athletic streak. He won report cards; I won every physical dare, every practical joke war, and at school where I was easily popular.
We’d stopped competing after our sister died, because really, he’d won; he was the one our parents loved, the one who didn’t fuck up everything he touched.
Reid, with his messy hair and his corny jokes, had won again though. I wouldn’t mind, if I knew for sure that Izzy could love me too.
If I knew that she should love me.
“I don’t think it’s about game,” Van disagrees. “The two of them always had a bond.”
“We all had a bond.”
Van leans back in his chair. “So after we shred some vamps, what are we going to do? How are we going to get that bond back?”
“Is that what you want?”
“Don’t play stupid. We know each other too well for that.”
“Maybe that’s part of why he was first. Reid didn’t ever want to make that pact.” Reid had been sure that we could manage our budding relationships with Izzy without our friendship falling apart.
But the guys and I were like brothers. I’d been afraid of losing them. I’d pushed for us to promise that none of us would date her.
Another impressive fuck-up on my part.
“Maybe we could stop by my house on our way back,” Van says. “Daddy canceled my cards. I know, poor me. But I’ve got a good supply of cash in my room. We could buy her some things.”
“That’s not what Izzy’s ever cared about.”
Van pulls a face. “I know. But every girl likes pretty, spendy things, don’t they?”
I shake my head.
“I want to get her a car,” Van mutters to himself, then shakes his head, slipping out of his fantasies. “Okay. What were you thinking, then? You’re the smart one.”
“You know I’m not.”
“You and Reid are identical twins,” Van says in exasperation. “You literally have the same big brains. You’ve just always chosen not to use yours, but we know you can. So think.”
I roll my eyes to cover how much Van had surprised me. I didn’t think the guys could surprise me anymore. I didn’t think they saw me as smart.
It made me want to be a smarter, better man, not just for Izzy, but for all of them. It’d be a nice change of pace to live up to someone’s expectations.
“Do you think she knows about the night it all went wrong?” I say. “The night that things started…heating up…and we freaked out after?”
“Yeah,” Van says quietly. He raises his hand to the waitress. “I think she knows.”
“Maybe we could recreate that night.”
Van’s lips tug to one side. “That sounds a lot more painful than a trip to the Louis Vuitton store.”
“Maybe that’s the point. She’s got to know we can see we were wrong.”
“You want us to grovel,” Van says flatly.
I shrug.
“Whatever it takes,” Van mutters. “I hear girls love a good grovel. But I’ve never bothered before.”
“Izzy’s worth it.”
“She is.”
The waitress plunks down another round before she scurries off, and Van raises his glass. “What, in our wretched lives, should we toast to?”
“To groveling,” I suggest.
“To groveling.”
I clink glasses with him.
He takes a long sip of his whiskey. “Should we get drunk in a vampire bar?”
I shrug. “We should get drunk wherever we want. We’re gods.”
He glances up. “Speaking of…”
Someone looms over our table. I look up to see a big vampire, fangs out, flanked by other vampires.
“I feel like bringing your fangs out,” Van mimes fangs with two of his fingers, “is like walking up to someone with your dick out. Very presumptuous and likely dangerous.”
“Bad manners, really,” I agree.
“What do you want?” the lead vampire demands. He is dressed in head-to-toe black Armani and when he crosses his arms, his fancy gold watch glints under the lights. But his fangs make him lisp a little, which makes him far less intimidating.
“We came here looking for a few vamps,” I say. “They killed my sister three years ago. Car wreck.”
He nods slowly. “I think I remember that.”
My heart races. “Yeah? You know who they were? You know where we can find them?”
The vamp bares his teeth in a smile. “I know where you can find your sister.”
The bar explodes into commotion.
As one of the vamps throws himself at me, I kick back in my chair, letting myself fall so he’d sail over me. Then I jump to my feet in time to meet the second one who launches himself toward me, his fangs flashing.
They were fast.
We were faster.
Together, Van and I fought seamlessly, knocking down vampires left and right. The place turned into a bloodbath, and not the kind that vampires enjoyed.
I kneel on the neck of the lead vampire a few minutes later. His nostrils flare, and there is fear in his eyes when he stares up at me.
“I miss my sister,” I say, “but today’s not the day I join her. And you’re not the one who sends me there. Now I think you need to answer my questions.”
He was a lot more helpful that time around.