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ALWAYS A PUNCHING BAG, NEVER A BOXER

SEBASTIAN

They all look at me in shock, but as one of the most hated supe races in this society, I can be a lot more objective than they can. It’s easy to see from the outside looking in—their rebellion isn’t driven simply by ‘social justice’, no matter how much they’ve convinced themselves that it is. The supernaturals who are the closest to human—magic users—were the most naive when it came to the regime change that landed us all here. Since they could ‘pass’, they believed they’d be able to hide in plain sight if anything went wrong, so they trusted the wrong people.

Vampires knew better. Being undead always made us the most human-like of the darker supernaturals, which led to being second class citizens even within the minority groups. Our leaders saw the writing on walls as we always have when the capricious and moronic beings that control this spinning rock turned on those who weren’t like them. I don’t agree with their decision and never have, even as a child, but I understand why they chose to ally with the inevitable dictators. We were all destined to be subjugated, but at least our people are the least uncomfortable of all the races now.

The most trusting and altruistic of the supes are the ones suffering more than they ever anticipated and it’s why vampires made that choice.

“Look—”

Sydney pops to her feet with an angry expression. “I don’t want to hear this bullshit from a traitor . Your kind are why we’re here, Sebastian.”

The venom in her voice is no different than what I usually get outside of the closed off undead communities, and I’m not shocked in the least. But she needs to grow up and face the truth—they all do if we’re going to survive this shit. It’s not something my kind likes to share, but there’s a lot of reality these assholes have to face.

“I’m going to tell you things that will definitely get me killed if it goes beyond these walls at this time. You can believe me or not, but I assure you, this is one hundred percent verifiable if you know the right people with the right access. All I ask is that you let me say my piece before you interrupt. Can you at least do that?”

Thad tilts his head, studying me for a moment, then sniffs the air. He shrugs and looks at the demon and their girl, then nods. “I can; I suppose.”

“Whatever.”

I watch as the girl all our lives are tied to stomps to the couch and drops down in between her safety men. My eyes flit to the mage and the dragon, waiting for them to respond. I’m not worried about the demon; he’s likely heard all of this well before now, but was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. The Cubi vacillate between his species and mine; they gossip like no other beings. My story won’t shock the good ol’ boy even a little bit.

“Speak your piece,” Elias says gruffly. “But I will stop you if need be. I do not agree to allow you to abuse anyone.”

That makes the blond girl perk up slightly and I roll my eyes before arching a brow at Stormbringer. “And you?”

He shrugs. “I’m flexible enough to give you a chance to dig your own grave.”

Not surprising—he’s likely flexible enough for a lot of things.

I have to fight to keep the smirk off my face at my own cleverness, but I nod at them. “Good. You’re not going to believe what I say at first—most of you, at least—but I urge you to take the time to let it sink before you decide I’m lying. I assure you, lying would gain me nothing and telling you all this information puts my own ass at risk. I’d rather not, but it seems I must if I would like to stay undead.”

Sydney glares, crossing her arms over her chest. “Just spit it out, bloodsucker.”

I ignore her tone again as I gather my thoughts. “Vampires, and to an extent, demons and other hellspawn, are pragmatists. We have always been considered lesser by the bulk of the supes and their power structure because we were not originally born as supernaturals. Many current lines are full of vampires and dhampirs who were, but our beginnings were not the same as magic users or shifters. We are the ‘other’ of all ‘others’. Thus, we have a very unique perspective about humans and their behavior.”

“You’re scavengers,” she mutters under her breath.

Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. “First of all, we are not and I am aware you’re not stupid, Sydney. We don’t pick the bones of the dead like vultures. We feed on live sources who we turn if we feel it’s advantageous to us or our species. No one is drinking the blood of the dead in non-war times.”

“He’s telling the truth about that,” Huck interjects. “I’ve been around long enough to know the vamps are far pickier about the temp of their food unless supply is cut off. Hell, I s’pose they even did a good job of using willing donors through various businesses before the sweeps.”

“Correct,” I say with a nod of approval. “We learned in the Victorian era that it behooved us to keep our kills necessary and not draw attention to the supernatural world when humans started creating their own public media about us. Stoker and Shelley are to blame, but that’s simply survival smarts.”

Thad grunts, shifting his big bulk to let Sydney lean against him sullenly. “Okay, what does that have to do with our current situation?”

“It means we have been watching hatred of ‘other’ develop in those beings ever since—even of their own kind for the stupidest of reasons. They were willing to enslave their own, kill each other for meaningless beliefs, and subjugate large swaths of their own species with no compunction. Huck will tell you that their idea of ‘Hell’ is beyond inaccurate, as the only humans there are ones who had dealings with his kind. It’s all a big con and has been since the dawn of their existence. The angels will confirm the same.”

“Indeed,” the demon says with a rueful grin. “We don’t want them in our space anymore than the sparkling ones, but we take what we’re owed. The only humans in our kingdom are ones who are serving their sentences per their agreements.”

Sydney frowns. “Does everyone know that? Because it feels like they don’t.”

I chuckle. “Of course not. Letting the humans police their own shit with their dumb rules has helped supes survive in the shadows for millenia. You know the leaders have had a policy of non-intervention unless their idiocy will affect us. That doesn’t mean all the ‘heads of state’, as it were, aren’t watching them carefully. However, vampires and demons have always been keeping a much more cynical eye on the state of affairs there. We have never trusted them to do anything that will benefit themselves or us.”

“Fair,” Stormbringer says with a shrug. “My experience with them is vast and they are troublesome. They have no self-awareness; often, the very thing they decry is what they desire the most. Instead of embracing it and being happy, they bark bullshit and make themselves miserable. It’s all service of the things Whitmore mentioned.”

“You would know, I suppose,” I drawl and he blanches. Sighing, I shake my head. “That was unnecessary and I apologize. I cannot cast stones at the other species who have done what they have to in order to get through this nightmare anymore than they should at most of my people.”

“Most?” Elias rumbles.

When he doesn’t expound, I nod. “Yes, most, and that is where my tale is going. As I said, the hellspawn species have been monitoring them more closely. They communicate with each other more than the rest of the supes speak with us, and the consensus since the humans in this country fought an entire war over enslaving their own kind was that we cannot trust them—ever. They are too easily led by their emotions—particularly fear—and it would be stupid to reveal ourselves to them. Supernaturals, despite their powers, would be the next target for them to place blame on for their woes, just as they do any faction of their own who is not homogenous.”

“Demons also felt that way, which is why we increased our presence above, tempting as many of them into eternal servitude as possible. It fed our needs and helped trim the population,” Huck agrees. “Not my thing, of course, because I can be fat an’ happy like a hog on butcher day simply by using those feelings against them.”

“Is this why the vampire numbers decreased for a few decades before the virus?” Sydney asks softly. “I remember my dad always saying that the vampires were planning something but no one knew what because they were becoming very insular.”

“Your dad was a blood watcher?”

She has the grace to duck her head when she nods. That word isn’t as filthy as some of the others used to denote vampire racists in the supe community, but it gets the meaning across. Her shame tells me she’s only spewing hate about my kind because of their connection to the sweeps, not because she hates us for existing.

For some reason, that feels comforting and hopeful at the same time.

“We can’t control the bad deeds our parents wrought. I believe that and I hope when I finish my story, you will as well.” I pause, reorganizing my thought train before I continue. “So, yes, we stopped turning new vampires to prevent their hate in our community and bred more, despite the risks and long gestation times. We wanted new blood that was not tainted by human experience so our rank and file did not get as out of control as they are.”

Thad blinks, then looks at me. “The bears did it, too. Many ursa leaders quietly forbid any sexual interaction with humans and have since I was old enough to understand. They cautioned us heartily as young bears.”

“Demons forbid it like the mosquitoes,” Huck adds nonchalantly. “They’ve been verboten since that Italian pretended to ‘discover’ this land. It’s why we were only surface level for business most of the time.”

Sydney frowns, looking at Stormbringer. “Magic users didn’t, right?”

His smile is apologetic. “They did, but they didn’t tell us why. It was poorly policed in some parts of the world like the US, where the supes typically mocked closed supe communities for being ‘anti-inclusion’ because they chose not to allow the beings who would hate us inside. In other parts of the world, the supernaturals were much more cautious about human interaction.”

“That’s probably why…”

The sentence trails off and I sigh. Definitely opening up more than one wound for our center tonight. She’s going to hate me for a long time after this. “Yes, it’s probably why your mother disappeared after you were born. She knew your father would have a much more difficult time raising you if people understood that you were part human. Whatever else she was likely didn’t have a very accepting community and she was on her own, living outside of it.”

“You think one of her parents was human and broke a law, then was cast out.”

Dante saves me by saying, “Yes. Whitmore’s theory makes sense. There are many powerful supernatural communities—like mine—who would not have abided that behavior as it would bring danger to our whole species. Your mother was a product of an ill-advised union and had no support. She left to protect you, it seems.”

The room is quiet for a moment as Sydney sucks in a huge breath, closing her eyes and staying very still for a few moments. When her eyes open again, there’s no trace of the emotion that was on her face prior.

“Finish your tale, vampire. Our food is getting cold and this night has become very tiring.”

Shutting down is never a good sign, but they have to know—I’m certain of it.