Chapter 19 Rowan
NINETEEN
ROWAN
No More Mr. Nice Vamp
I whistled to myself as I strode into the coven’s meeting place, where I hadn’t been in about two-and-half months.
Once, it had been a place of comfort for me, a place I desired to fit in at, but now it was like the obsidian-colored glasses had been stripped off, and I saw it for what it truly was: a goth nightclub for snobs with schlocky taste.
I’d made excuses for them before, tolerated their myopic views and shrugged them off as eccentricities to be indulged. But now?
Not so much.
The only reason I was back was because Naomi pointed out there could be other people just like me in the coven, whether vampire or thrall.
After all, it wasn’t like every member of the place was there every night.
I had heard the names of several members floated by that I’d never seen, one of whom apparently only stopped in every other year.
“Wait, Rowan?”
I wasn’t exactly surprised to hear Orthallow’s voice, but I didn’t particularly care either. I gave him a tilt of my head and continued my path to the community board to hang up the posters Naomi had asked me to disperse in various magical places around town.
“I haven’t seen you in an age. I thought you cleared out.”
“Did you?” I responded without really turning.
While I appreciated that he’d opened my eyes and stopped me from making a complete fool of myself, I also hadn’t really forgiven him for tolerating all the shit the rest of the coven were talking behind my back.
If I hadn’t been about to ask Celestia out, would he ever have told me?
Would he have waited another five years?
That didn’t exactly instill trust in him.
“What’s this?” he asked, looking over my shoulder as I stapled the piece of paper to the community announcements spot.
Of course, it couldn’t be just regular pegboard like plebeian humans.
No, it was covered in rich, burgundy velvet that I knew was replaced every two weeks due to the number of holes that got punched into it.
A ridiculous expense, but anything for the aesthetic, I supposed.
“Magical Misfits Mixer?” His tone was exactly what I expected.
A touch confused at first but ending in a scoff.
“If it doesn’t apply to you, don’t worry about it,” I said, giving him a wan smile. “Not that difficult.”
Although the same couldn’t be said for the event that Naomi and I were trying to put together.
Valentine’s Day was quite a long way off, but it turned out there was a lot of logistics to trying to get a place that could accommodate a group of magical people from many different species who may or may not need special accommodations.
But it was working out, thanks to Naomi’s tenacity.
Somehow, she’d found a community center deep within the city owned by a shapeshifter who straddled both the human and magical worlds financially.
It took a bit of convincing and some funds on my end to get them to agree, but they did in the end.
I was pretty sure the several months of warning helped.
“I didn’t say anything like that.”
“No, but your face did.”
To my surprise, he actually looked contrite.
“Shit, really? I didn’t even mean to…” He sighed, and I got the sense that he was grappling with his own stuff.
Who knew, maybe Naomi was bang on the head about people at the coven needing something like the mixer.
And in my opinion, if we could help a single person like Carolina, everything would be worth it.
I could still see her haunted expression when she’d opened the door. She looked so weary, so ashamed, and it made my unbeating heart ache something fierce.
At the same time, it also made me fiercely proud of Naomi.
My girlfriend was something else, all right.
I’d traveled the world enough to know that not many people would be willing to go to bat for others the way she did.
I watched her beat down a giant wolf with her purse without so much as batting an eye.
She’d broken into my home and saved me from sunlight, all the while looking like a resplendent, angelic being.
And somehow, through just a few missed messages, she knew her friend was in trouble and showed up to help.
“…it.”
I realized that Orthallow had been talking the entire time I was monologuing in my head, and I reluctantly pulled myself back to the conversation. God forbid a centenarian think a little bit. Sometimes I swore people acted like they would die if there wasn’t a constant dialogue at all times.
“Pardon?”
“I said I wish you luck with it.”
“Ah, thank you. I appreciate it.”
“No problem. Oh, and I just wanted to say, you know you don’t have to clear out of here entirely. Just because Celestia and her crowd are jackasses, doesn’t mean nobody wants you here.”
“That may be true,” I answered. “But it does mean that everybody here knew about it, and nobody felt the need to tell me. Until you, of course. And for that you have my thanks. But to be clear, that’s really all you have from me, Orthallow.”
I could have continued the conversation, but I didn’t.
I’d made my point and didn’t need to belabor it.
Especially since I still had so much to do.
And the feeling seemed to be mutual, because Orthallow let me pass him by to head to the barkeep at the far side of the hall, away from the dancing area.
As expected, he was less than amenable, and I got the feeling he was going to throw away the flyers I gave him away as soon as I was out the door, but it was what it was.
Once I was done, I left and headed to the speakeasy where I was meeting Iko. I would have loved if Naomi could be there, but she had to be up early the next day for a special accommodation since one of her favorite clients was on vacation, so she was safe at her place, all tucked into bed.
I missed her.
It was strange to think that only a month had passed since the incident with Carolina, and yet so much had happened.
Not just with the depth of Naomi and my relationship, but also with her best friend.
Although the harpy hadn’t been able to fully leave her apartment yet, she had electricity, she had food, and she was showing improvement.
In fact, Naomi had told me that the last time she visited, she’d stood in the hall and talked to Carolina while the door was wide open.
That was a big improvement in such a short time.
My mind was so occupied with everything that had happened since Naomi had told me about her idea, that I reached the speakeasy in no time at all.
It was about as schlocky as such a place could be, run by a pair of incubi older than me and Ibrahim combined.
It was hidden in the back of a warehouse, through a bookcase portal created by a couple of sorceresses.
Said sorceresses had moved to Bermuda, and apparently had a penchant for building a harem out of very willing but lost travelers right around 1950.
I’d only met them on the tail-end of their time in America, but they’d seemed lovely, if a little eccentric.
“Is that my good friend I hear?”
I wasn’t surprised that Iko recognized me the moment I walked through the door.
So many years without sight had taught the large cyclops to rely on his other senses.
For a while, I thought he could tell the cadence of my footsteps apart from others, but it turned out that he could smell me.
I hadn’t known what to think of that, as I hadn’t been aware at the time that cyclops had such abilities.
It made sense, though. They had been apex hunters back when humans weren’t the dominant species on the planet, but it was a bit disconcerting to think about in a modern setting.
“It is,” I said brightly, clapping my hand on his broad back.
My friend was a touchy-feely kind of guy and liked physical contact.
I didn’t mind. Before Naomi, I hadn’t realized how touch-starved I was.
Since I was one of the only people Iko hung out with in person, I didn’t mind providing him with hugs, encouraging pats, or whatever else he needed. “Want to find a table?”
“That I would. It is strange to be here on a night with no live band, but it should make finding a seat much easier.”
“I think so. I appreciate you coming out with me, though.”
“My friend! You can invite me out even when there is no music. It’s not as if I need an instrument playing in the background to tolerate your presence.”
He let out a hearty laugh, earning a few startled looks from people around us.
But I made sure to stare down anyone who looked too offended.
I knew my friend could occasionally be loud, but his lungs were the size of some people’s arms. It wasn’t like he was shouting or being inappropriate. His voice just… carried.
“That is good to know. I fear that I became a bit of a homebody, but I’ve been trying to improve on that lately.
” When I was with Iko, my old way of speaking started to trickle back.
I didn’t mind, however. Sometimes, it was so exhausting to keep up with the ever-changing vernacular of English that reverting to how I used to talk was a nice break for my brain.
“Benefits of having a young lover.”
I grinned at that, even though he couldn’t see it. “Perhaps.”
“Succinct with your personal life as always! Come now, you can tell ol’ Iko about it. I love to hear good news whenever I can.”
I offered Iko my arm even though he could navigate just fine without it, and the large man took it, standing up to his full seven-foot-two frame. “I… I suppose I was worried it would come across as bragging.”
“There is a difference between boasting and sharing joy. And please, I think we can agree that there’s not nearly enough joy in this world. Especially lately.”