Death Song (Tales from the Tarot)

16. Charlie

Chapter sixteen

Charlie

T wo ancient Roman columns edge the grass and wildflowers scatter among the greens in muted shades of blues, reds and purples. I step back to look at the work I’ve done this evening so far, smiling as I reach forward with my paintbrush to add another small cluster of blue to the path at the column’s base. I’m sure a real muralist would be done by now, but I’m content meandering down here to pluck away at this wall day by day. Rex seems content with that too, so I haven’t felt the need to push myself to finish it up just yet. There is a booking for the club next weekend so I’ll have to be done by then, but that’s more than enough time to wrap this up the way I know I can.

I take a step back from the wall as Emery comes rushing down into the entryway, a grin on his face. He always pops down to see me in the nights now, and I look forward to his company. Gibson stays away, he’s more of a quiet sort that keeps to himself, but I do like him as well.

“Put your stuff down, I’ve been given a task and you’re coming with me,” Emery announces, plucking the paintbrush from my hand.

“Emery, I’m covered in paint. Where are we going?”

He looks me over before shrugging. “It’ll be fine. We’re headed for your favorite place and mine: The Magic Shop. I’ve been sent to find information so hustle. Let’s go.” Emery drops the paintbrush to the drop cloth at his feet and gestures towards the door that leads to the garage.

“What information?”

“Reincarnation and resurrection,” he says, as I follow him to the door abandoning my work for the night. “Gibson thinks Colin’s client may be a soul that’s already been reaped, and since Creepy Reapy isn’t around, we gotta get the info from The Owner.”

“Reincarnation? Who does he think the client is?”

“Nikandros. Rex’s brother. It’s a stretch, honestly. The Harbinger keeps tabs on all the souls reaped and they aren’t likely to let one get loose.”

“The Harbinger.” That’s a new one for me. I think, anyway.

“Creepy Reapy’s bosses. Managers of the souls that are reaped. They’re like the upper level of some corporate hellscape in a place called The Nether,” Emery offers, his boots clanging on the stairs as we head for the parking garage. He holds up a set of familiar keys, his grin spreading even wider across his face. “I know we could walk there, but I get the Batmobile tonight and I’m not giving that chance up.”

“I called it that too.” I laugh.

“Right? As if it isn’t. Maybach, my ass, that thing is the Batmobile.” When we reach the vehicle, he opens the doors and we both slip into the leather seats. “So pretty. So fast. I promise I’ll drive good. I do have my license, and Rex will murder me if I hurt you.”

“Okay?” That’s not very reassuring.

“You’ll be fine.”

Except as he swings the sports car onto the actual road, I don’t feel very fine. Emery drives through the city streets at a speed normally reserved for NASCAR races, taking corners with complete abandon. By the time we reach The Magic Shop, I’ve been knocked about the passenger seat like I was on a rickety old wooden rollercoaster, and my hands are dug so deep into the leather seats, I think I’m going to leave fingerprints behind.

Emery hops out of the vehicle, then looks through the open door to where I sit with a smile. “See? Totally a good driver.”

“Yeah,” I offer with a pained smile as I scrape myself off the passenger seat. “That was only mostly terrifying.”

He laughs, and I make a mental note that after tonight, I’m never getting into a car with him behind the wheel ever again. The Magic Shop is as it was the first night I stumbled upon the place, darkened front, though the sign calls me in again. Emery heads for the door and pushes it open, greeting The Owner and anyone else who may be inside with a very loud hello. I follow behind, offering a small wave as The Owner raises his head from a book he’s reading at the counter. He’s wearing the same top hat, and I remind myself to tell Finn about it later.

“Emery,” The Owner says, his smile warm and genuine. “How have you been, little vampire?”

“I’ve been so good. You?”

“Always well,” he offers before turning to me. “And Charlie. I am glad to see you again. I had hoped our meeting would not be the last, and I am pleased to see you looking far healthier now.”

“Thank you. It’s good to see you as well.” Even though his tea suggestion did nothing to help me, that he even offered it was kind of him and I find I am glad to see his face.

The Owner smiles, nodding. “What do you seek tonight?”

“Information,” Emery says. “On reincarnation.”

“Bringing someone back, are we?”

“Ew. No. We think someone may have come back who shouldn’t have, though, and we’re wondering if that’s even possible.”

“All things are possible,” The Owner offers. “Not all things are advised, but they are quite possible. Allow me a moment to consider, and I will return with what I can find.”

He stoops slightly at the waist, offering a slight bow before heading towards the back of the shop where the rows of books await him. Emery turns to the table of crystals and vials, picking them up one by one to read the labels on each of them.

I busy myself with looking at the book The Owner was reading, simply because I’m curious. Upside down, I can make no sense of it, but I get the feeling that even right side up it would be illegible.

“Chaotic,” The Owner says, returning far faster than I’d anticipated. I glance up from the garbled page to nod.

“It sure is.”

He smiles, placing two weatherbeaten leatherbound books on the counter and looking down at the page in front of me fondly. “That is the dialect. Chaotic. Chaos demons cannot write, but they do try their hardest. Bless their little blackened souls. This book contains their stories.”

“And you can read it?”

“Of course.” The Owner gives me a knowing smile, then turns to the books on the table. “Reincarnation spells and a historical account of dark magics. One is not advised but possible, the other seems impossible but is advised.”

“The spell book is definitely not advised,” Emery says, nodding as he picks it up. He thumbs through it for a moment, then turns to The Owner. “Both for sale?”

“Of course, for a price.”

“Not a lock of my lovely hair?” Emery grins, running his hand over his pink head.

“Not today.” The Owner laughs. “Nor a vial of blood either, I’m afraid. Coin is what they’re worth tonight, but I get the sense that there is more on our minds tonight. Charlie, what do you seek?”

I sputter a bit, looking between him and Emery’s confused face. “I don’t know?”

“Has the card helped?” The Owner probes. “Has it guided you thus far?”

“It has? I think anyway. You were really vague, but I think I’m embracing the changes as they come if that’s what you mean.”

“Ah, and in that change, what have you found? What else do you need from my shop this evening? I know there is something, search for it inside your mind.”

“Seers,” I whisper, not even having to think hard for it. The conversation with Rex in the middle of the night has been on my mind, but that The Owner somehow knows that is a bit unnerving.

“You are awakening to a new gift.”

“A curse, more like.”

“A curse and a gift are hand in hand with some things.” The Owner nods. “Have you noted the melding of past, present and future? Have you seen the shadows of those who came before us in the present?”

“Um, no? I just dream things, but only past events and only featuring one particular individual.”

“Not waking visions, then,” The Owner says with a smile that looks somewhat relieved. “You are on the precipice of the gift, perched above those who see the visions in their waking moments yet not as low as those who are haunted by them. I have heard of such focused visions among shifters, the ones with fated mates they have yet to discover within our world, though the seeings typically abate once the mate bond is solidified through claiming.”

My heart lurches in my chest and I nod because I know. “I do have a fated mate, I think, but he isn’t a shifter, he’s a vampire. We are bonded, in a way, but it’s not strong. At least not according to the wolf shifters who can apparently smell it. Is that why I’m dreaming of only him? Is this the mate thing messing with me?”

“We aren’t supposed to have mates,” Emery adds, “but I think it’s possible.”

“All things are,” The Owner says, tipping his hat to Emery. “A vampire within this realm who has a mate. What have the fates concocted for you in this timeline, I wonder? Fascinating. I am glad to have met you, Charlie.”

I nod my agreement, a thousand thoughts rifling through my mind. I step back from the counter to think as Emery and The Owner go back and forth, debating prices for the books. They finally settle on a price and Emery makes the payment as The Owner packs the books into a paper bag.

“Ready to go?” Emery asks, turning to me. I can only nod again, unable to find words as I think through the information I’ve been given.

It is only when I’m seated in the passenger side of the Maybach that it hits me. “He didn’t answer my questions. About whether or not the mates thing is causing these dreams.”

“He did,” Emery responds. “In his own way. I think you know he did. Let Rex claim you and it will all go away. In theory, anyway. If you’re the only vampire fated mates, it may work differently. I don’t know.”

“I feel like a science experiment.”

“It’s exciting, isn’t it? At the possibility of having someone who will always be there for you and love you regardless of what you are.”

“Emery?” I ask, as I can feel there is a deeper meaning to his words.

He ignores me, instead giving me a grin as he fires up the car. “Ready?”

I am not, I don’t think I will ever be ready for another car ride with Emery behind the wheel, but he takes off from the curb anyway.

Hot water sluices down my body, wicking away the paint remnants that cling to my skin. I scrub at the stubborn spots on my arms with my fingernails, pulling the errant colors from my body until they’re a bit red and raw, though clean again.

Emery dropped me off at the building before heading to Borders for a bite to eat, and while I had intended to go right back to painting, I found myself unable to get back into the groove. Gibson has gone out for the night, heading off into the city in search of things to do, and Rex has taken control of the TV in the living space which means he’s likely watching nature documentaries or strange shows about aliens that are somehow on the History channel.

They live surprisingly boring lives for immortal creatures. The myths and horror stories I grew up with never seemed to include the moments between the danger, where there was nothing to do and nothing happening. The answer to the question of what idle vampires do seems to include shopping online for trinkets, eating copious amounts of sugar if you’re named Emery, and sitting on a couch watching TV.

Dull.

Yet somehow, there doesn’t need to be anything exciting happening. I know these three I now spend my time with have been through the ringer over their many years of life, and if dull is what’s happening now, I’d much prefer that over the alternative. Just yesterday, I walked in on Rex curled up in bed with a book on his lap and a glass of wine on the bedside table, and the peace and tranquility in his eyes when he glanced up at me told me that boring moments are perfect ones.

My body finally clean beneath the spray, I reach for the shampoo to start scrubbing the paint from the ends of my hair, but startle when the shower curtain opens. My hand flies to my chest, but the moment of alertness turns to warmth inside as Rex climbs into the shower with me, his broad body taking up much of the space in the smaller bathtub.

“Where are you at?” he asks, wrapping his arms around me.

“Shampoo,” I murmur, resting my head against his chest. He doesn’t often come join me in the shower due to the lack of space with the two of us in here, but my heart is happy that he has tonight. I settle against his body as he reaches for the shampoo behind me, the spray of the water hitting my shoulders.

“Remind me to gut this space.” He’s been talking about renovations lately, though despite the bathrooms being on the small side, everything else is spacious and open. Pressed against him, I can’t say I quite mind the bathtub being exactly as it is.

“I’m not going to go mad,” I offer, leaning my head against his shoulder. “The Owner believes that my visions are tied to the mate bond and once I’m claimed, they will stop.”

“That is good news. I will have to learn how to claim you, in that case.”

“You want to be stuck with me forever?”

“Of course, Charlie. Now that I know you, I know I could not bear to be parted from you and I will do what I can to keep you for always.”

For always sounds perfect to me. I close my eyes and smile as he starts rubbing my head, massaging the shampoo into my hair. He pauses every so often to scrape at flecks of paint that cling to the strands until he is done. His arms come to rest around my shoulders for a few moments, then he starts the work of removing the bubbles and suds. I tilt my head back to the spray as he slips his fingers through my hair, nearly purring like a cat at how good it feels to be touched by him. Conditioner comes next and it’s much the same, though as he finishes rinsing it out, he leans forward and presses a kiss to my upturned face, completely missing both my lips and instead catching my lower lip and chin.

I laugh softly. “Missed.”

“I will not miss this time,” he responds, snaking an arm between us to take my chin in his broad hand and moving my face exactly where he wants it. I hum happily as he leans forward and gives me a true kiss, his lips connecting with mine. He pulls away, smiling gently at me. “Got it.”

“Good work.”

“Thank you. Some of my best, I think.” Before I can respond though, his lips are on mine again and I give myself over to him, heat rising inside me. I have never been so eager for touch or for kiss as I am with him. Sometimes, it feels like if I am not around him, there is a hole that opens inside my body and the longer I am away from him, the deeper it grows.

I wonder if that’s what it’s like being a fated mate. I have no context for the desperation to be by him I feel sometimes, but I never felt like this with anyone else. I never felt this with Colin, that’s for sure. He only seemed to want to touch me when we were in bed and even then, only in the ways he wanted. Rex is about what I want, I’ve learned, and I return the same to him, giving him what I know he wants and needs of my body and mind.

Rex pulls away from the kiss again as the water grows cold, causing me to shiver. “Killed the hot water tank. Remind me to replace that as well.”

“Will do.” I turn around and reach for the taps, bending slightly to turn the water off. Rex grips my hips and pulls me back against his body, letting me feel his hard cock bumping against my butt. I can’t help but tease him. “Again?”

“Seems like always,” he responds, as I stand up again, my back to his front. He slides a hand down my slick body until he finds my own hardened length then he can’t seem to resist a comment. “Again?”

I laugh, tilting my head back to his chest as he takes me in his hand, giving me a small stroke. “Always, apparently.”

I turn around and take him in my hand, stroking his cock as he offers the same back to me, leaning forward to connect his lips to mine again. There is no rush to it, no hurry needed here in this space filled with hushed breaths and the sound of hands slicking over wet flesh. I come with a shudder into his grasp on me and seconds later he too tips over the edge, breathing heavy into the kiss we share.

“I love you,” he whispers, hesitantly, yet hopefully.

“I love you,” I offer back, because I do. It makes no sense, it’s far too soon, yet my heart beats with him inside it and my body craves his touch like air in my lungs.

All of me is him.

All of him is me.