Chapter 4

©2009 A. Jane

Two days later…

Valdo forced his way through the crowd and shoved between two patrons sitting at the bar. When they grumbled, he flashed fang and glared. One patron, a WairGoose, was quite startled to discover the scruffy individual was a Vampyre. Not wishing to cause a problem, he grabbed his ale and left. Valdo gladly took the seat, thinking there were some good things to being what he was.

He tucked loose, sun-streaked hair behind his ears and ate a pretzel from the bowl in front of him. His neighbor, a chubby Earth Sprite, looked at him funny and he ate another pretzel, making certain to flash fang once more. He truly wanted to know who started the rumor that Vampyres subsisted only on blood, because he would like to kick that individual’s ass. Yes, he needed blood—a Vampyre was similar to an anemic individual needing a transfusion—but he could, and needed to, eat other food. He loved sitting down to full eight course meals.

A little known fact about Vampyres, because of the whole blood issue, is that they were Foodies. They could be down right snobby about the whole thing, considering themselves to be the finest of connoisseurs. Many a great chef had been brought to tears from a Vampyre ripping his or her dishes to pieces.

Dewi spotted the Vampyre—it was hard to miss him in the bright blue and red floral shirt—surprised to see one in his pub during the day. If Neak hadn’t shed light on the rumor about their daywear the other evening, he was sure he would never have known. As he neared, he realized the Vampyre with the little rectangular sunglasses perched on his nose was Valdo.

He walked over, squeezing past Oben, and grinned. “Valdo, this is a surprise.”

“I suppose it is. Do I assume that someone explained the daytime dress code of a Vampyre?” Valdo rested his arms on the bar, hands clasped, and leaned forward, the colorful beads around his neck swaying with the motion.

“Neak did, yes. What brings you this way?” And apparently, Vampyres spoke a little more casually during the day as well. Dewi decided he liked this side of Valdo; it was refreshing.

“Oh a drink with a friendly face. I also had thoughts of asking Neak about the whole Tree Nymphs being bad for a Vampyre’s health issue.”

“The drink I can do, but Neak’s incommunicado for the next few days.”

“I was going to say something about the crowd, but if your usual barmaid is incommunicado… Did you upset her?”

“Hold on.” Dewi held up a hand. He turned his head and growled at a Bunny who started changing inside the pub. The Bunny quickly settled down and stayed as a man. He returned his attention to Valdo. “No, nothing so simple.”

“Hey, are you going to take my order?” the Cat dared to growl at the Lobo. He had scared away a Squirrel in his attempt to get to the bar.

“No, I’m not. And if you get obnoxious, Oben will eat you. It’s his turn and he’s feeling lucky today.” At that, Oben looked over and bared his teeth at Kitty. “Now go sit down and wait for Miss Chirptrue to get to you.”

“Maybe I should eat the Bird, she looks tasty.”

Valdo grabbed the Cat by the scruff of his neck, spun his stool around, and threw Kitty across the pub and through the open door. He brushed his hands together and swiveled his stool back around. “I hate Cats, especially Toms.”

“That one is especially bad. I’ve chased him out of here three times just this afternoon and Oben’s done it twice. He keeps coming back.”

“That’s why I hate them. Sure, being persistent isn’t always a bad thing, but Toms don’t know when to quit.”

“I guess not. So what can I get you? The usual?” Dewi started reaching for Valdo’s preferred brand of blackberry brandy.

“No, no. Brandy is strictly nighttime. A dark Gnome Ale for afternoon, and I would love a patty melt—rare.”

“Coming up.” Dewi stuck his head around the kitchen door and ordered the patty melt, then went about building the dark ale. The dark ales took a special hand to fill, as it needed to be layered or it was all head.

“Out of my way or lose a limb!” Meria chirped. Shuffling was heard, a yelp and then a squawk of pain. “I said out of my way.” More shuffling and then Meria appeared, stepping up onto the small stump the Tree provided for her. “Two ambers—one glass, one bottle—a rum and cola, and a lemon soda. Hey Fairy Boy, got an order for the kitchen!”

Valdo stared down at the little Sparrow, shocked to discover it was Miss Chirptrue. Shy, painfully polite Meria Chirptrue was threatening the various patrons, let alone waitressing?

“What are you staring at Fang Face?” Meria grinned at Valdo. She thought she was getting the hang of running orders. Channeling Neak helped a whole bunch too. She then scowled towards the kitchen. “Hey, you lazy Fairy, get your ass out here!”

“I have a name, Birdie!” The Forest Fairy flittered out of the kitchen, his wings vibrating with indignation. “I do and so does my sister.”

“Easy, Weddle.” Dewi added another layer to Valdo’s ale and then started pouring the amber ale for Meria’s order.

“She keeps shouting at me, and she could at least use my name instead of saying: Hey, Fairy Boy. It’s rude.”

“You don’t mind using Weddle’s name, do you, Miss Chirptrue?” Dewi looked at Meria as he placed the glass of ale and the bottle on her tray. He then started pouring the rum and cola.

“Fine, fine. You’re Weddle and your sister is Widdle.”

Weddle glared at Meria. “Do you find our names funny?”

Yes, she did, but she kept the smile off her face. The Forest Fairies were fun to annoy, and easy too, but right now she had hungry customers. She held out the ticket. “Take this to JoJo and Glynn.”

“You should be nicer to me, Birdie.” Weddle took the ticket and flew back to the kitchen.

“I know the entertainment they provide is vast and easy, but could you try to be nicer to Weddle and his sister, Miss Chirptrue?” Dewi placed the rum and cola on the tray and then poured the lemon soda, placing it too on the tray. “I’m not fond of having Fairies yell at me.”

“I call him Fairy Boy, because he keeps calling me Birdie. He could at least call me Sparrow.” Meria took her tray, stepped down from the stump and headed off into the crowd.

“What happened to Miss Chirptrue?” Valdo raised both eyebrows. He watched Dewi add the final layer to his ale. He could already taste it.

“Neak befriended her.”

“Should I worry? I mean she called me Fang Face.”

“No.” Dewi placed the ale in front of Valdo. “She’s happy and some of the men are starting to notice her.”

“Tell that to the Wair she kicked in the shin.”

The Lobo’s lips trembled with suppressed laughter. “He should have moved.”

“I guess so.” Valdo started to take a sip of ale when the air stirred. He couldn’t help but lift his head and sniff. “What is that scent? It’s filled the pub since I arrived and I can’t place it. It’s rather sweet and… arousing.”

Dewi raised a brow, hoping the Vampyre wouldn’t end up as another casualty to Neak’s pollen. “Just ignore it, it’ll be gone soon.”

Valdo stared him, trying to figure out what that meant. “It’s almost as if there is a female in season.” He then blinked. “Oh! I guess that explains Neak’s absence.”

“And why we’re so damn crowded. Toff’s done what he can, but there is only so much I guess.”

“They’re Divinities, not miracle workers.”

“True.” Dewi laughed. “I better see to some of the other customers or there may be a riot. Your sandwich should be here soon.”

“No problem. And I’ll just come back in a few days to talk with Neak.”

“Sure thing.” Dewi moved off.

Oben slipped over, Widdle right behind him carrying a plate. He took the plate from the Forest Fairy and placed it in front of Valdo, along with a bottle of ketchup for the fries. “An interesting meal.”

“I do eat, Oben. Food is good, food is important. I don’t eat, I starve.”

“It’s not that. I know you eat, but this isn’t your usual fare.”

“Can’t have caviar and filet mignon all the time. Do you have any hot sauce?”

Oben nodded and called to Widdle for a bottle of hot sauce. “So, you threw Kitty pretty accurately.”

“I always throw accurately.” Valdo looked at the Lobo. “Is there a problem?”

“Nope, not at all. I enjoy the chase, but with the crowd we have, I don’t have the time to really do a good job. That you threw Kitty out makes our job easier.”

“As I told Dewi, I hate Cats.”

“That one yowled all night.” Oben reached out and stole Valdo’s sunglasses. He held them up to his face. “Prescription.”

“Yes, I’m nearsighted, are you happy?” Valdo bared fang as he took his glasses away from Oben. For some reason, Oben had a knack for poking at him. He thought it a good thing he liked him.

The Lobo ignored the display of aggression. He would be cranky too. “Why don’t you wear glasses at night?”

“They don’t go with the line of my coat.”

“I would think you would look distinguished with glasses.”

“Fat lot you know, Wolfie. Vampyres aren’t supposed to need glasses. We’re supposed to have perfect vision, and yet I don’t.” That really pissed him off. Vampyres were supposed to be perfect—other than the whole blood situation—and yet he wasn’t. He was stuck with a very annoying flaw. He shoved a fry into his mouth, then another. He pointed at the Lobo with a third fry. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to surf when you need glasses? I’ve lost three pairs so far. I’ve tried those prescription goggles with the excuse that the saltwater stings my eyes, but the straps keep breaking. I’ve lost four of those and they’re expensive.”

“Maybe you should have another Vampyre bite you, it might strengthen your abilities.”

“Vampyres are born, not made.” Valdo stuffed that third fry into his mouth.

“Really? I was sure I heard some such thing about being bitten three times or something like that.”

“Geesh, I don’t know where this shit comes from, I truly don’t. Believing such foolishness is right up there with believing we sleep in coffins during the day because we’re the undead and the sunlight will end our existence. The only Vampyres who sleep the day away—and always in a regular bed, in a regular bedroom—don’t go to bed until dawn, and even then, they’re up several hours before the sun goes down and are outside soaking up the rays. We love the sun, just like we love food.”

“The things you learn. I suppose that’s up there with Wairs being fatally allergic to silver. My great grand uncle is a silversmith. It’s Silver Moonlight that kills us.” Oben refilled Valdo’s ale. “Why don’t you enjoy your patty melt, I need to serve some of these lovesick bastards.”

“Oben!” Romie circled the Lobo, wings buzzing, his eyes wide and panicked. “Where’s Dewi?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Belle cut her foot. Hubby is doing what he can, but…” He hated blood.

Oben looked around, but didn’t see Dewi, which meant his cousin was either in the storage room or signing for delivery. He sighed. “I’ll go.” Placing his thumb and index finger at the corners of his mouth, he let out a high-pitched whistle. “Everyone sit your asses down now!”

The room became quiet and all eyes turned to Oben. “The pup has hurt herself and I’m going to check on her. If anyone gets out of line, I’m giving the Vampyre here leave to suck you all dry. Is that understood? Is it?”

The room filled with murmurs of assent and Oben left the bar, running up the stairs, Romie zipping up behind him.

“You heard the Wolf.” Valdo showed fang to the crowd. “I won’t hesitate even a second, as I’ve always enjoyed a good tartare.”

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