Page 125
Story: Almost Midnight
Nick rolled that around in his head, the way he did the bourbon on his tongue.
Then, slowly, he shook his jaw in disbelief.
“I don’t even know why it would surprise me,” he said. “The Vampire King of the White Death?Of coursethat was you. Who elsewouldit be? Who else would even come up with such a fucking melodramatic, over-the-top name as ‘The White Death,’ and then crown himself its king?” Nick took another drink, shook his head again, and snorted. “I’m surprised you didn’t declare yourself Emperor, Betial.”
Brick studied his eyes, that harder look still in his. “Why have you not joined us, brother?” he asked. “This is your world now, too. Is it not?”
Nick snorted openly, and rolled his eyes.
“No, thanks,” he grunted.
He took another long drink of bourbon, and set down his glass. Measuring Brick with his eyes, he frowned. “How thefuckdid you end up heresix hundred yearsafter I got here?”
Brick’s eyebrow rose.
He fingered his rocks glass, studying Nick with a new interest.
“Six hundred years?” he queried mildly. “I take it that’s not colorful exaggeration?”
“It’s not.”
He didn’t wait for Brick’s reaction, or even look for it in his face but took another long drink from his new glass.
“When we came, none of this…” Nick motioned around at the bar with his augmented reality people and fantastical animals and flashing terminals and wall monitors filled with the bloody, burning images of war. “…was like this,” he finished, slurring a little. “Just a lot of mud and horses and farmers. Pretty beaches. Shockingly blue lakes and oceans. So many fish, you could walk on their backs. No acid rain. No bombs that destroy every animal, every bird.” He met Brick’s gaze blearily. “We lived in France for a long time. Fucking beautiful. Stupid. But beautiful. Stupid fucking beautiful, everywhere we went.”
He downed more of his drink, and wondered why he was telling Brick any of this.
He wondered why he wanted him to know.
When he glanced at his sire, he saw Brick’s eyebrows raised. Surprise lived there, but also an understanding that made Nick want to take it all back.
“The pretty one, your Dalejem?” Brick asked perceptively. “He is not here, is he?”
“No.”
“One of those stupid humans, perhaps?” Brick asked.
“Old age,” Nick corrected.
“Ah.” Brick clucked under his breath. “I am sorry, youngling. That is the disadvantage of falling for mortals. Even the longer-lived ones, like yours, must eventually perish.”
Nick’s jaw hardened, but he only grunted.
“You realize I’m likely older than you now?” he asked sourly.“…Youngling.”
Brick blinked.
Then his lips slid into a wider smile.
“Intriguing. Ihadn’trealized that… but of course, you are correct.” His eyes grew shrewd. “And the girl? The other Dalejem? What happened to her?”
Nick thought about that, then shrugged.
“No idea,” he said.
“You have not seen her here?”
“I saw no one but Dalejem until about ten minutes ago,” Nick said, giving his sire a flat look. “Apparently the dimensional door likes to play with time as well as space.”
Then, slowly, he shook his jaw in disbelief.
“I don’t even know why it would surprise me,” he said. “The Vampire King of the White Death?Of coursethat was you. Who elsewouldit be? Who else would even come up with such a fucking melodramatic, over-the-top name as ‘The White Death,’ and then crown himself its king?” Nick took another drink, shook his head again, and snorted. “I’m surprised you didn’t declare yourself Emperor, Betial.”
Brick studied his eyes, that harder look still in his. “Why have you not joined us, brother?” he asked. “This is your world now, too. Is it not?”
Nick snorted openly, and rolled his eyes.
“No, thanks,” he grunted.
He took another long drink of bourbon, and set down his glass. Measuring Brick with his eyes, he frowned. “How thefuckdid you end up heresix hundred yearsafter I got here?”
Brick’s eyebrow rose.
He fingered his rocks glass, studying Nick with a new interest.
“Six hundred years?” he queried mildly. “I take it that’s not colorful exaggeration?”
“It’s not.”
He didn’t wait for Brick’s reaction, or even look for it in his face but took another long drink from his new glass.
“When we came, none of this…” Nick motioned around at the bar with his augmented reality people and fantastical animals and flashing terminals and wall monitors filled with the bloody, burning images of war. “…was like this,” he finished, slurring a little. “Just a lot of mud and horses and farmers. Pretty beaches. Shockingly blue lakes and oceans. So many fish, you could walk on their backs. No acid rain. No bombs that destroy every animal, every bird.” He met Brick’s gaze blearily. “We lived in France for a long time. Fucking beautiful. Stupid. But beautiful. Stupid fucking beautiful, everywhere we went.”
He downed more of his drink, and wondered why he was telling Brick any of this.
He wondered why he wanted him to know.
When he glanced at his sire, he saw Brick’s eyebrows raised. Surprise lived there, but also an understanding that made Nick want to take it all back.
“The pretty one, your Dalejem?” Brick asked perceptively. “He is not here, is he?”
“No.”
“One of those stupid humans, perhaps?” Brick asked.
“Old age,” Nick corrected.
“Ah.” Brick clucked under his breath. “I am sorry, youngling. That is the disadvantage of falling for mortals. Even the longer-lived ones, like yours, must eventually perish.”
Nick’s jaw hardened, but he only grunted.
“You realize I’m likely older than you now?” he asked sourly.“…Youngling.”
Brick blinked.
Then his lips slid into a wider smile.
“Intriguing. Ihadn’trealized that… but of course, you are correct.” His eyes grew shrewd. “And the girl? The other Dalejem? What happened to her?”
Nick thought about that, then shrugged.
“No idea,” he said.
“You have not seen her here?”
“I saw no one but Dalejem until about ten minutes ago,” Nick said, giving his sire a flat look. “Apparently the dimensional door likes to play with time as well as space.”
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