Whatever You Say
The restaurant had been rented out so that it was closed to the general public. There were only two members of the wait-staff present, and no need for any cooks. A simple table was in the middle of the dining room, set with two bottles of Tru Blood. Finn Howard was nursing his, his eyes scanning the door. Members of his nest acted as guards, two inside the restaurant and two stationed outside.
This meeting had been a long time coming. Being relatively new as acting sheriff, Finn had decided to wait before meeting the other half of the city’s head authority. Rumor had it their goals and manners of operating were not quite on the same level. The vampire hoped they could discuss these issues reasonably.
Maxwell Clarke never went anywhere without his human companion, a 18-year-old redhead named Emily. She proved useful in tight spots, given her background in Tae Kwon Do and thrice-weekly diet of the sheriff’s blood. Her disturbing devotion to all things undead also served its purpose, though Maxwell wished she would leave him be from time to time.
When one of the vampire guards outside the restaurant stopped Maxwell and Emily, the sheriff bore his fangs. Watching the guard recoil, Maxwell glanced over his shoulder at his companion, motioning for her to join him. The sheriff crossed the threshold, dreadlocks flowing to the middle of his back, draped over his black leather coat.
When one of the vampire guards outside the restaurant stopped Maxwell and Emily, the sheriff bore his fangs. Watching the guard recoil, Maxwell glanced over his shoulder at his companion, motioning for her to join him. The sheriff crossed the threshold, dreadlocks flowing to the middle of his back, draped over his black leather coat.
Maxwell wore sunglasses, even though he never dared see the sun. His tan Timberlands clomped against the floor as Maxwell pinched his goatee between his fingers. A gray streak parted his hair down the middle. Finding the table, the sheriff pointed to a chair to the side before taking the one across from the scruffy-haired creature.
Seeing the bottle of Tru Blood in front of him, Maxwell sneered and pushed it to the side. “Disgusting filth,” he groused, leaning forward on his elbows.
“So,” he added, “you’re Finn Howard. Well, aren’t you a pretty muthafucker.”
Finn stood, setting down his O positive. Eyebrows shot up as he watched the tough-looking girl enter the room with the sheriff of Area 1. "You brought a human," the vampire remarked, his tone neutral for the moment. His displeasure, however, was displayed across his young-looking features, especially when he saw Maxwell push aside the expensive synthetic blood. In the interest of diplomacy, however, the sheriff held out a pale hand.
"Finn Howard," he added, silently brushing aside the 'pretty' comment. He had been prepared for something like this. His maker, the former sheriff of Area 2, had spoken quite a bit about Clarke's demeanor.
Shaking his hand, the guarded expression on Maxwell’s face twitched. “Emily’s my bodyguard. She’s what you might call...an insurance policy.” He tightened his grip on Finn’s hand, his eyebrows lowering.
“You know, just in case.”
Sitting, Maxwell stared at the bottle mocking him. He sighed and grabbed the bottle and tore off the cap and before forcing himself to drink half of it. He shuddered at the bland metallic texture, but it was as close as the sheriff was going to get to behaving before he knew exactly who Finn was and what he wanted.
“So,” Maxwell set the bottle down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”
Sitting, Finn gestured to one of the waiters and pointed at Emily. A chair was summoned for her within seconds. "A human as a bodyguard," the younger vampire surmised. "How unique." A corner of his mouth drew up in a faint smirk as he glanced at her. "She must be quite formidable."
Leaning back in his chair, he watched Maxwell slug down the red beverage. He could have easily served willingly-given human blood, but decided not to. It was a subtle power-grab, as was picking the meeting place and time. It was common amongst sheriffs. "I'm sure you're aware of the humans' newly-elected figurehead," Finn replied. "I decided this meeting couldn't come at a better time. We have much to discuss. Tactics, merging...things of that nature."
Chuckling, Maxwell shook his head and brushed imaginary dust off the table. Stray dreadlocks hung over his shoulders. “”You remember back in the 90s, when the Republicans going on an on about family values, fighting the so-called ‘homosexual menace’? Hm? How they bashed the fuckin’ gays because they knew they could scare enough fuckin’ simpletons to the polls?
“But then it turned out those muthafuckers were gay theyself!” The sheriff laughed again, shaking his head. “He doth protest too much, I believe the saying goes.”
Leaning forward again, Maxwell peered over his sunglasses. A deep scar ran through his left eye. “That white boy’s hidin’ something. I can smell it every time they put his pretty mug on the fuckin’ TV.” Maxwell downed the rest of the bottle, slamming it back to the table with a growl. “And I get the chance, I’m gonna find out what that is.”
“Please,” Emily whimpered, her eyes darting from the floor to her master. “Please, Maxie. Give me the kiss. I wanna be immortal....”
Maxwell rolled his eyes, grabbing Emily by the hair and yanking. “And I want you to shut the fuck up!” He let go of Emily with a growl, shaking his head and glaring at Finn.
“She’s lucky she’s a good ass-kicker...”
"I recall," Finn said wryly, finishing his own blood. "And I may have some intel on Adam Thurston's private goings-on. I have it on good authority that he is supplying vampire blood to the Fellowship. They, in turn, feed it to the Soldiers of the Sun so that they may slaughter us in record numbers." The vampire paused, and the smirk turned into a genuine smile. "However, I directed one of the vampires under my jurisdiction to infiltrate the Thurston home. There were some interesting findings."
The sheriff stopped talking to watch the exchange between Maxwell and Emily. He could never fathom the indignity to which some humans would stoop. Still, he could feel an idea forming...
"Anyway...I wondered if you had any ideas on what to do with this information, assuming that it's true. I was thinking we find his suppliers. With the mass amounts of the stuff that's being given to the Soldiers, there must be a number of vampires complying with this plot."
“Probably not willingly, either,” Maxwell theorized. “Cause let’s face it, if vampires knew that their blood was being used to help kill them and they still went along with it? Damn, they some fucked up birds.”
The sheriff shook his head, stealing a sideways glance. Emily was lost in thought, mumbling to herself and staring at her hands. Her palms had scratches on them, from hours of scraping at them with her long fingernails. For all her physical strength, Emily definitely lacked something between her ears.
“I guess going public with this knowledge won’t help,” he sighed. “Fucker’s been anti-bloodsucker from day one, and still got elected. People will probably just shrug and think that’s just him doing what he promised to do.”
"Maybe," Finn mused. "But if they are intentionally contributing to the thinning of our numbers. I will see to them personally. The Magister may specialize in poetic justice, but I learned some tricks myself." He cocked his head to the side. "You're invited, if and when we capture these traitors." He shot a bemused glance at the redhead. An odd one, she was, and the sheriff didn't doubt that she had been glamored a few more times than was healthy.
"Now how about that second course?" At these words, the waiters reappeared. A carafe full of blood was placed on the center of the table, wine glasses set before the two vampires. Finn cleared his throat. "And some wine for the human, please." The waiter nodded and returned to the kitchen.
"This is a personal gift from the Queen," he explained to Maxwell. "Delivered here fresh today. I believe you'll find it much more palatable than the synthetic version." Finn raised his filled glass in a toast.
Maxwell did likewise, offering his first genuine smile of the evening. The sheriff preferred A positive as a general rule, but B negative had its own unique texture. He enjoyed how it swirled around his tongue, and he appreciated the queen’s gesture. Maybe there was something he and Finn could cooperate on, even if they had differences with regards to their styles of ruling.
The South Side of Chicago was a rough, nasty place, and Maxwell had to rule accordingly.
Taking a sip, and relishing in the tangy assault on his tongue, Maxwell smiled again. “I’d love to just kill the mayor,” he offered. “But it’s not gonna be that simple. But maybe...what about his wife? Saw on TV last night she’s got somethin’ baking in the oven.
“You know as well as I do what the blood of a newborn’s worth.”
There was a sudden sound of shattering glass. Slightly dazed, Finn glanced down. His hand was bleeding, mingled with the spilled human blood; he had gripped the wine glass too hard. "I do not kill children," he answered, his voice suddenly steeped in ice. "Ever. I do not care how desirable their blood is. It just isn't done in my area...and the Mayor and his wife reside in my area." The sheriff closed his eyes. When he opened them, the table had been cleaned, the shards of glass cleared.
"Excuse me," he replied after a long moment. "I had children. They were stolen from me. It is the only thing I regret." He leaned forward and refilled his new glass. "However, once she's given birth...she's fair game."
Watching the display with a morbid fascination, Maxwell arched his eyebrows. He’d never come across a vampire who actually had limits as to who could be killed and who couldn’t, but maybe that was a by-product of his upbringing. A South Sider from birth, Maxwell never had the luxury of such rules.
But if Finn said the baby was of-limits, then so be it. Maxwell finished the rest of his glass, gently setting it aside.
“A fair compromise,” he grinned. “Something tells me she’s not exactly on the up-and-up, either.” He offered a dark chuckle, grabbing Emily’s wrist as her hand worked up his thigh. “Not yet,” he told her. “When we get back.”
He glanced at Finn again. “No one with a functioning moral compass would ever marry a politician.”
Nodding, Finn took a long, bracing drink. It was good quality, not from the transients that Faye so enjoyed collecting. Again, his eyes swept toward Emily. There was someone he wanted to introduce her to. "So we're agreed. Once the baby is born, we'll send a message to Mr. Thurston that he won't be able to ignore." He glanced at his watch. "Not long til sun-up, and I understand that you have a long drive back. I think we've covered all that we needed to tonight."
The waiters began clearing the table. "I would also like to request your permission to speak to your...bodyguard. I'll send her out when I'm finished."
“Agreed.” Maxwell stood. “And none of the vampires on my end will touch the Thurston child. If they do, I’ll break their fucking kneecaps...and then I’ll hand them to the Magister.”
Glancing at Emily, who was hunched over at the waist talking to a dead cockroach, Maxwell’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like leaving Emily out of his sight, even for only a second. Not because he couldn’t handle himself, but she was essentially his property. He’d already laid down an edict that anyone who ever dared kidnap her would have his flesh peeled off.
Maxwell hoped he wouldn’t have to do that to Finn. He seemed like a nice bloodsucker.
“Be quick about it,” he said, glancing over his shoulder before walking out of the restaurant. He fished a cigarette out of the crumpled-up pack in his jacket pocket, lighting it as he crossed the threshold.
"I appreciate that," Finn replied, standing as well. He slowly buttoned his blazer, eyes still on Emily. "And I'll be very quick. You won't even know she's gone." The sheriff waited until Maxwell had exited the restaurant before turning to the girl.
"If you're so tired of being human," he said, his voice lowered significantly. "I believe I know someone who could help you."
Looking up from the floor, Emily’s eyes danced back and forth. She mouthed words, but no sound escaped her lips. Her purple sundress hung loosely from her shoulders, and Emily tugged on her hair with both hands as she stood and returned to her seat. Her lips kept moving, eyes dancing everywhere, looking everywhere but at the other vampire.
“Pablo is unhappy,” he whispered. “Very unhappy. Horribly sad. All he wanted to do was eat dinner, but then squish! Pablo wants his revenge, oh yes he does. He wants dirty, nasty bloody revenge and--”
Emily gasped, finally looking at Finn. Her lips curled into a massive grin, and she bounded like a giddy schoolgirl in her seat. “Little Miss Sparkles wants to take me for a ride? Ohmygawd, I love rides!”
The smile turned into a frown. “But it’s not my birthday...”
"Right." Finn sighed and rolled his eyes. He reached out and cupped her chin in his hand, focusing her attention on his face, his eyes boring into hers. "Listen to me," he intoned, his voice monotone but full of authority. "You will do as I say. When the sun comes up, you will gather your things. You will get on a train and go to the address that I give you. You will find a nest. And there you will find the queen, and a vampire named Thea. They will be asleep, of course, but you will wait until they wake up...and Thea will take care of you."
The vampire let go of her, wiping his hand on his jacket. "Do you understand me?"
Staring at Finn with a faraway look in her eyes, Emily nodded with her mouth agape. “I do.”
She blinked, her hands gripping the front of her chair and hunching her shoulders before lowering her head and frowning in confusion. She stood, tugging on the hem of her dress and chewing her lower lip. Her right arm lifted, and Emily scratched the back of her head as she shuffled toward the front door.
Pausing, she glanced back at Finn, a folded piece of paper in her hand.
“You smell of elderberries.”
"Sure, whatever you say." Finn turned around and retrieved his cell phone. Punching in a number, he raised it to his ear.
"Thea," the sheriff said, smiling. "There's going to be a little present waiting for you tonight when you wake up."