Leon
It was a typical Wednesday night. We were in the time of year where the sun went down later and later, which meant my nestmates didn’t amble into the bar as early as a couple months prior. It was the way of our kind. Except for Lucroy, every other vampire I knew lived and died by sunrise and sunset. It was so ingrained within our vampiric nature that we couldn’t be roused when the sun was at its most deadly zenith.
I’d spent the day inside Dusk, using Lucroy’s underground den. As a typical rule, vampires didn’t like sharing their resting spaces. Few, if any, were allowed inside. Lucroy and I’d known each other for centuries. I was his second and current heir of the Southeast nest. To my knowledge, Peaches and I were the only ones he’d ever allowed into his private sanctuary. So, while I didn’t feel unwelcome there, it wasn’t home either. What it was was convenient.
Understandably, Lucroy spent more time at his beloved’s orchard. The completion of the underground addition to the home only solidified this fact. With every passing day, the running of Dusk fell increasingly under my control. It was a position in which I found comfort and was pleased my king and friend trusted me so completely.
Johnny was behind the bar proper. The faun had been with Lucroy nearly as long as me. Of course, that was an exaggeration. Fauns didn’t live nearly as long as vampires. Not that everyone considered us alive. We were far more alive than zombies, but I didn’t begrudge those who questioned my living status. Fairy law saw vampires as equal creatures, deserving of all the same rights as those who required air to continue their existence. For me, that was enough.
“Evenin’, boss-man.” Johnny had taken to calling me boss-man since Lucroy’s frequent absences. Knowing Johnny, his choice of nicknames could have been far worse. I neither encouraged nor discouraged the term.
“Good evening, Johnny. Any issues tonight?”
“Not that I’ve seen,” Johnny answered with a headshake. Hands spread on the bar top, Johnny leaned closer. Standing on the riser behind the bar, the shorter faun was nearly eye level. “Got a couple of werewolves in the corner that I haven’t seen before. Probably some of Arie’s pack but so far, they haven’t given cause to boot their furry asses out.”
With an understanding nod, I picked up the warm glass of blood Lizbeth inconspicuously slid my way. I raised the glass her direction in thanks before draining half the glass in one go. Like most vampires, I had my own preference. Human made up the bulk of nearly every vampire’s diet. But a little extra something added a kick now and again. Before claiming Peaches as his beloved, Lucroy’s favored drink was human with a hint of ogre. If I’d still been human, I would have shivered at the thought. While I cared for and respected my king, I did not share his blood palate.
“It’s becoming a trend,” I needlessly said, now sipping my drink.
“A damn irritating trend,” Johnny agreed. “I don’t like it.” Johnny said some variation of that sentiment nearly every evening.
“Nor I. Lucroy isn’t fond either. However, as long as they do nothing untoward, we have no cause to remove them. Dusk is open to all.” Even humans came by, although I often wondered about their mental health. Lizbeth notwithstanding, humans didn’t typically mix well with other species. Or, at the very least, they often found themselves at the unpleasant end of an old-fashioned fairy tale—the distinctly non-Disney variety.
“Arie Belview’s up to something.” Johnny’s voice was barely above a whisper.
I nearly snorted my blood. “Of course he is. Alpha Belview is always up to something. It would go against his nature to do otherwise.” Not all alphas acted like Arie Belview. In fact, I doubted most of them did. One need look no further than Sedrick Voss for Arie’s polar opposite.
“True enough,” Johnny readily agreed.
“Johnny,” Lizbeth interrupted. “We just got an order for licorice liquor. It’s up on the top shelf. You want me to get it?”
Johnny grumbled. “I miss Wendall. That boy’s too busy to work in here as often as I’d like. Off at some damn meeting tonight with Ray.” Johnny stomped a hoof before waving his towel Lizbeth’s direction and saying, “That’d be great.”
Lizbeth grabbed the ladder and scurried up, snatching the bottle and wiggling back down. The ladder rungs were hell on Johnny’s hooves. He could use the ladder, but it wasn’t graceful and took a lot longer.
“Must be a group of brownies here somewhere. They’re small enough I probably missed them. We don’t get a lot in the bar and they’re the only ones who like that licorice stuff. I’ve got it up top, along with the virgin tears. Used to have the burnt rum up there too, but I moved it down when Vander began coming around more often. Now that he’s off wanderin’ the globe with Parsnip, it might be time to stick it back up there. We don’t get a lot of warlocks knocking down our doors either.”
Johnny was correct. I wasn’t certain if that was because warlocks weren’t all that plentiful or if they simply didn’t like socializing with others. Most likely it was a combination of both.
While I’d grown fond of Wendall and felt his absence, Johnny was the one who missed him the most. I didn’t think it was simply the fact Wendall was agile and shimmied up and down ladders with ease. Johnny truly liked the young zombie turned living humanoid fairy.
“This time tomorrow you’ll have a new trainee. As I understand it, a pixie. They’ll be able to fly up to the top and get what you need, just like Phil.”
Phil’s brief stint as a bouncer hadn’t gone well, but he’d made a decent bartender and had pulled in a unique crowd. Dusk had acquired a reputation for pixie viewing. Pixie bars drew most of them. It was a place they could fly, drink, and dance without complaint of patron nasal complications. If you wanted to see pixies at play, one needed to mask up and head for a pixie bar.
Dusk was different. We had our own set of pixies and Dusk was large enough that when they were here, a section could be cordoned off for their enjoyment. Pixie dust dissipated quickly enough that if Dusk’s other patrons were far enough away, the dust was gone before it had a chance to infiltrate their delicate noses. No matter the species, one couldn’t help but smile when in the presence of a dancing pixie. Pixies might be hell on the nose, but they were pure joy to the eyes.
“I heard that. Do you know anything about them?” Johnny asked.
“Not much. Lucroy could not share information he did not have. I know they are being sent from the Magical Usage Council.”
Johnny grunted. “I can’t say that I’ve ever heard of a pixie agent before.” Rubbing his chin, Johnny appeared as doubtful as I felt. “Pixies aren’t really known for their…” He waved a hand in the air, unable to put his thoughts into words.
“Aggressive nature?”
“Yeah, something like that. They’re not really a deceptive lot. I know Parsnip lied and covered up the fact he’d faded, but it wasn’t like he took any joy out of it. In fact, I think that deception hurt him the most.”
“Agreed.” When Lizbeth walked by, I scooted my empty glass her way.
“You want more?” she asked and hurried away to get it when I nodded.
“I assume the council has its reasons.” Most councils did. The vampire council certainly claimed to. I’d met their members once and didn’t care for a repeat experience.
Johnny shrugged. “I suppose. You know me, as long as they’re friendly, work hard, and don’t start shit, then I’m all good.”
My lips twitched, itching to grin. “It is one of your finer qualities.”
Johnny threw a nearby towel my direction. I didn’t bother dodging and allowed the slightly damp cloth to hit me in the chest.
Chuckling, Johnny said, “I’ve got the apartment cleaned out and ready. Wendall already got rid of most everything.” Nose scrunching, Johnny said, “You know I love that boy, but I’m glad I didn’t have to clean out the fridge. Brains are bad enough, but rotten brain is probably worse, not to mention what Trinket eats.” Like all fauns, Johnny was a vegetarian. “You know I’m not prejudiced. You gotta eat what your body needs, but that don’t mean I gotta like cleaning it up.” With a dramatic shiver, Johnny’s tension dissipated. “Anyway, it was a moot point. Wendall cleaned everything up. I didn’t have to do much. Wendall’s a good lad.”
Wendall was far more than a lad. In point of fact, none of us really knew what Wendall was now. Mostly human with a dash of fairy. Thanks to Aurelia, that dash of fairy was now more like a splash. I wasn’t overly concerned. Wendall’s good nature would quell anything else that came along.
“Do you know when they’re expected?” Johnny asked.
“The pixie?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Not precisely. I am uncertain how long the meeting at Sedrick’s will last or if Lucroy will bring the pixie here directly after.” As inconspicuously as possible I glanced the direction of the wolves sitting on the other side of the room. Even their excellent hearing couldn’t overcome Dusk’s music and distance.
A fresh, warm glass of blood appeared before me. By the time I picked it up, Lizbeth was off, her lavender hair reflecting the overhead lighting and making her glow. Despite my original misgivings and despite her unfortunate humanity, Lizbeth was an excellent hire.
Now that my appetite was sated, I savored my second glass. I might have a third before the night was over. I would be fine without it, but I saw no reason for hunger. A hungry vampire did not make congenial conversation.
Another employee stood behind Johnny reluctant to interrupt, and patiently waiting for our conversation to end
“Duty calls,” I told Johnny before slipping out of my chair and into the crowd. I might not be Lucroy Moony, but as his second, most of our nestmates took comfort in my presence. Vampires could be solitary creatures, but we often retained our living, human personalities. As such, some vampires were sociable and required interaction with others. Dusk was here to fulfill that need. Lucroy had a few simple rules. No nestmates went hungry. No nestmate lacked for a safe place to sleep during the day. No nestmate need pay tithes. No nestmate had to perform any task they did not wish. Vampires within the Southeastern United States had luxuries other nests did not and are ranks were growing because of it. Lucroy’s style of leadership was very appealing, and our increased diversity strengthened our nest.
I spent the rest of the evening being available to nestmates in need. Most of that need came from small, nearly insignificant requests or inquires. The evening turned into night which rolled into early morning. The bar cleared as patrons found their way home. The group of brownies stayed until nearly three in the morning. I was staring at them when they suddenly blinked out and were gone. That was the way of brownies and I’d seen it enough over the centuries that I barely found it disturbing now.
Johnny, Lizbeth, and a handful of other staff went around the bar, cleaning tables and putting the bar to rights. Sliding out of my corner booth, I decided to make a final round, making certain all was well, and I was no longer needed. Most nights, I felt as if my presence was little more than window dressing. Lucroy was right, as long as Johnny was present, Dusk basically ran itself.
“You headed downstairs, boss-man?” Johnny asked.
“Soon.” I’m not sure why I lingered. Johnny didn’t need me. Being alone didn’t bother me. Maybe it was staying in Lucroy’s home. Maybe I should have left earlier so I could sleep in my own den. Only that space wasn’t as comforting as I’d once found it.
I was unsettled, had been since Lucroy found his beloved. I didn’t begrudge Lucroy his happiness. In fact, I was relieved he’d found Peaches. Before Peaches, I’d begun observing disturbing habits. It was early, but I was wary. I’d lost my maker to depression and ultimately, the sun. She’d walked out into the early sunrise, finding a level of peace she’d lost in her second life. I did not want to lose Lucroy the same way.
A vampire at loose ends danced a fine line, one that did not always end with centuries but a pile of ash.
“Leon.” Lucroy’s cool voice danced across my skin. He wasn’t my maker, but he was my king. He was also a good friend.
I turned, surprised when I didn’t see Peaches by his side.
Aware of my gaze, Lucroy said, “My beloved was away from his orchard too long this evening. I took him home before stopping by Dusk.”
“Is he well?” Concern tickled my brain. As a bonded nature pixie, being away from his orchard could kill Peaches. A few hours were fine, any longer and the consequences would be devastating. We all knew that firsthand.
“He is fine. A small headache and decreased energy, but nothing being back on his land won’t cure.”
The tightness around my chest eased. While I cared for Peaches, my larger concern would be his death’s impact on Lucroy. Depending on the circumstances, Lucroy would either lose himself to madness, becoming a danger to everything in his path, or he would simply cease to exist. Neither outcome was desirable.
Before I could inquire further, Lucroy turned his head, tilting it just so as he listened to the hall leading to the parking garage. Seconds later, I heard what had caught his attention—the flutter of pixie wings.
I blinked before my eyelids managed to glue themselves open. My heart thudded, a dull drum that reverberated through my body and yet I remained statue still. I’d seen my fair share of pixies. All of them were beautiful. None of them had ever caught my attention like this.
“Leon, this is Agent Frost. He is the representative the Magical Usage Council sent. Frost, this is my second, Leon McMillon.”
“Nice to meet you, Leon. Looks like we’ll be working together for a while.”
Tingles swept through my body like shards of ice. Frost was extraordinary and yet the only thing that managed to exit my mouth was an insulting “fuck, you’re tiny, even for a pixie.”