Double Take - A.J. Cole (classic fiction txt) 📗

Finn was smiling. He usually was, but this smile was one his father had never seen before. The older Murphy had been around for millennia, and thought he couldn’t be surprised by anything, much less his son’s behavior, yet there it was. A unique smile that didn’t belong on the face of a Gancanagh Sidhe.

Their type rarely had children; because they were immortal, reproduction was more or less unnecessary. But he’d made an exception with Finn’s mother, much as his own father had made an exception with his grandmother. It was all rather complicated, but the boy was undoubtedly a Gancanagh. Translation – Love-Talker. He was a male faerie whose main character trait was the inborn ability to seduce human women. And Finn a master at it. Why, he didn’t even have to try; his touch was all it took to take possession of a girl’s heart and soul, and when he tired of the poor thing, she’d usually pine away with desire for him.

That was the one part of it that Finn disliked. Unlike others of his kind, he had developed a heart over the centuries. It bothered him a great deal when this would happen, so he almost never got involved with the ladies anymore. But when he did, his father always knew by that damn-was-that-mind-blowing-sex smile on Finn’s face the next day… or two, or three…

Which was why this smile was so disturbing. It looked, well, completely human and unbelievable in its happiness-wattage. The bar was closed at the moment, and Finn had returned from wherever it was he’d gone with the beautiful hybrid two nights before. He’d walked in smiling, gone to the bar and begun polishing glasses, still smiling. He’d begun to hum, too, smiling the whole time. After an hour or so, Mr. Murphy decided he’d had enough.

“All right, boy, what did you do?”

“Huh?” Finn put down the pilsner glass he was buffing and smiled at the older man. “What do you mean?”

“With the girl. The, the, the werepire.”

“Ah. Exactly what you’re thinking I did.”

“And how did she behave when you told her you had to leave?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t have tell her that. She kicked me out.”

Mr. Murphy was shocked. More shocked, in fact, than he ever thought he could be. “She did what?!”

“Said she needed to get to school, that she’d missed too much class. She also said she had errands and such to run, so asked if I wouldn’t mind leaving so she could get things done.” His smile broadened.

“And this makes you happy? That your magic didn’t work?”

“Well, that’s just it, old man.” He picked up a glass mug. “I didn’t use magic. Not that I had to. I mean, you know my touch does magic all by itself. So why add to that?”

“I’m confused.”

“Pass me the soap, will you?” He nodded at the dishwashing-liquid dispenser next to his father by the sink under the bar.

“Here. Now kindly explain yourself.”

Finn put down the mug, squirted some soap in it, and rested the dispenser beside it. “Father, I do believe I’m in love.”

If Liam Murphy had been capable of suffering a massive coronary, this would have been the moment to have one. “You’re – I’m speechless!”

“You? Never.” The younger man chuckled and turned on the hot water. “Sidhe magic doesn’t affect her, father. She likes me because she likes me. She – she shared herself with me because she wanted to. And far from wasting away with want of me, there’s a good chance I’ll eventually get on her nerves. How refreshing! How could I not be in love in the face of that, eh?” He put the mug under the water, filling it with suds.

“What are you doing?” Mr. Murphy nodded down at the soapy mug.

“Huh?” Finn looked at it, frowning. “I have no idea, to be honest.”

“So what now, boy?”

“Beats me. I miss her, though. Hell, I might be the one pining! What do you think of that?”

“I think you should have a drink.”

“Nope. Not thirsty. Hungry.”

“What would you like to have, then?”

“Arissa Martin.” And his laughter rang with pure joy for the first time in his incredibly long life.

*******

Another Thursday, another meeting. Arissa didn’t feel like going, but something told her she wouldn’t be given a choice. Maybe in a few hundred years or so she’d have enough standing in the monster community to beg off once in a while, but not yet. So after work, she took a shower, threw on jeans and a pale yellow off-the-shoulder sweat-shirt, several gold necklaces with various pendants dangling from them, swept her hair into a pony-tail, shoved her feet into a pair of old sneakers, and headed out for the church.

It still amused her that they had their meetings on what in other ages had been called “holy ground.” These were monsters who sucked people’s blood or tore them apart to feast on, for goodness’ sake! And they met in the basement of a church? Who knew?

Three months had passed since her “turning,” during which time she’d grown more accustomed to the creature she’d become. Her mother had continued to call her every so often, but was obviously having a hard time with the whole thing. Their conversations now were brief, stilted, and always started with, “How’s death treating you, dear?”

So far, she hadn’t said much to anyone about Finn. He was like her secret stash, and she was afraid something might ruin things if she spoke of it. Of course, had she not finally convinced her new and well-meaning circle of friends to stop barging into her apartment without warning, her steamy relationship with the Irishman would have been discovered long before.

Maya had agreed to say nothing, which helped. As for Finn, he usually spent at least three nights a week in her bed, and they’d had an incredible time learning about each other. She didn’t want to admit that what she felt for him went way beyond the friends-with-benefits category, but knew she’d eventually give in to the truth.

As for Leander, well, keeping him at arms’ length was a lot easier. She still liked him – and Blaine – but they were becoming more and more like big brothers than potential tryst-mates as the days went by. And she still wasn’t talking to Vlad.

She parked her car in the same spot she’d used the first time she’d gone. At first, she was too busy trying not to sneeze (somehow, being a werepire had done nothing to alleviate her incense allergies) to notice that something was different. But as she searched for a seat in the meeting room, she became aware of… what was going on? Why was she being stared at now? The first time she’d been there had been understandable – she was new. The second time, she’d begun to feel like one of the family, so to speak. So what had changed?

“Let’s get started, everyone,” Kyria called, raising her arms. “We have some very serious matters to discuss tonight!” And for some reason, she stared right at Arissa when she said this.

“Crap,” the girl muttered. She looked around to see where Maya was, eventually spotting her toward the back of the room, standing next to her werewolf mentor. Arissa started to wave, and then saw her friend turn away – on purpose – and sit down so the werewolf’s body hid her.

“We need silence!” Kyria’s voice was booming, and Arissa parked herself on the nearest folding chair.

Which happened to be all by itself at the front of the room.

The meeting began, Kyria covering several topics that were of no great moment: the monthly financial nonsense, some charity work that would need volunteers, something about the police, blah, blah, blah. Nothing worth staying awake about.

But then… “It seems we have a Situation.”

Arissa had no doubt that the word had been uttered with an initial capital letter. She also knew it had nothing to do with Reg, whose status had been handled at the last meeting.

“It seems one of us has been doing some pretty dangerous things, even if she didn’t know they were dangerous, and must be confronted.”

If the woman wasn’t talking about Arissa, she had an odd way of not looking at anyone else, the girl thought.

“I would like one of you familiar with such creatures to come to the front and have a little talk about the beings known as the Sidhe.” She took a step back, still glaring at the werepire sitting alone in the front.

Aw, hell, thought Arissa. How did they find out? And – wait. So what? What’s the big deal?

A man who looked to be in his early fifties came forward, his eyes giving away his werewolf status. Kyria introduced him as Gaylord Francis, and everyone rendered polite applause.

“Hello, my friends,” he began, his British accent making him sound pleasant. “I have had many an encounter with the Faerie, as you may know, and feel I have the authority to speak on the subject. Now a few of you are only a little familiar with these beings, while some of you apparently know nothing at all.” He narrowed his gaze and shot Arissa right between the eyes with it.

Muttering began somewhere in the back of the room, and grew like a swelling wave. This did not bode well…

“Yes,” Gaylord continued, “the Sidhe are a vile race, but they’ve become almost tolerable in recent decades. I believe some of our kind even frequent one of the establishments owned by one of them, yes?”

“You mean Murphy’s?” asked a woman on the other side of the room.

“Yes. Murphy’s. Normally they don’t involve themselves with any of our sort and for good reason. The same is true for us where they’re concerned.”

Mutter, mutter, mumble, a snort or two, more mumbling.

“So for the benefit of the ignorant among us,” he continued, failing to sound anything but scornful, “I’m going to recap their history, and the ways in which our various races have interacted with them.”

Some of the mutters became groans, and he raised a hand for silence. He then launched into a history lesson about the early Irish rulers, and told how, when the Milesians defeated them, they were allowed to go underground to live. Arissa already knew this much from stories her mother would read her when she was a child. These had been designed to frighten the girl into obedience, but all they did was fascinate her for the first ten minutes, then put her to sleep.

“Like us,” Gaylord went on, his voice rising, “they’re undead. But unlike us, they’re without a conscience, without a soul or a heart.”

Yeah, thought Arissa, because eating a human under the light of the full moon is such a compassionate thing to do, you annoying werewolf!

“They entrap the unsuspecting person and – well, that’s not really the issue at the moment. The important point is what happens to one of us if we, er, exchange blood with one of them.” He cleared his throat and leveled his gaze at Arissa once more. “They’re the only beings capable of killing us without any chance for remedy. We can certainly get blown up, or staked, or even shot to death, but a timely transfusion – except in the case of an explosion – can bring us back. But if we ingest Sidhe blood, we’re done for.