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Right before seven Darci pulled into the parking lot of the Encanto Bay Café. It was a Spanish style building, two stories, with warm tiling and a patio with Christmas lights overlooking the bay. A few hardy types were on the deck and she wondered if she would be able to discern any Othernaturals. Some humans could.
She was dressed in a pair of black leggings she could wear to work, and a red and green floral tunic with a filmy ruffled hemline. She’d painted her nails red, put her hair up and put an inexpensive holiday choker around her neck. It was the most she’d dressed up in three years. For warmth she’d bought a fluffy black Angora sweater, way too expensive, but something she could also wear to work.
Inside it was packed, but Juana called her name. Darci located her by a long table near the band stage. “I saved you a seat.”
The other task force members greeted her with smiles.
A young lady came and took her order; she looked completely human, but was certain to have an Othernatural connection. A good looking man brought her the beer she ordered.
"Hello. I'm heath, owner of the bar. I want to say how glad I am to meet you and all the other members of EPCOH. It fills a need that has been unmet for decades here in southern California." Darci thanked him and shook his hand, which felt human.
"Is he a vamp?"Darci asked.
"No one knows for sure what Heath is. Burning question in the Othernatural community, and matter of much speculation. He has never told. Just grins," Juana said.
"Whatever he is, he keeps trouble out of the café and out of the community, too."
Darci sat back with the beer a server handed her and waited with anticipation for her meal to arrive. Juana, vibrant in her sexy red shirt and long dark wavy hair, was a regular at the Café. “The band starts at eight. It’s an Other band, False Awakening. I’ve heard they're good.” Juana pointed out witches—real ones— and vamps, shifters and weres.
“Weres and Shifters both tend to be in packs, but the women in a shifter pack may not be shifters, while the Weres marry within their clans.” She pointed out a table of Weres that looked like a Nordic family outing. “Witches and wizards, look for pendants and charms, or rings. Most of them wear awesome magical jewelry. One of my cousins makes a good living as a jeweler for local witches. Vamps—if they are good looking and hot, they draw your eye with their perfect teeth and hair, great bodies, those are probably vamps. Good looks are part of their hunting arsenal.”
Darci looked around nervously. “I thought only clan vamps were allowed in here. Not hunters.”
“Right. Yeah, that table by the deck, all vamps.” A group of well dressed, good looking men drinking imported beer sat together near the door. “Being good looking helps them keep volunteers around, too. Not every clan can afford blood crews.”
River’s could. Darci knew that much about him. He’d been changed by a powerful master vampire, head of Clan O’Keefe. That clan was wealthy and had blood crews that served the family for generations. They had land all over the world, their own private jets, planes and yachts.
“Hey, isn’t that your vampire friend?”
Darci’s heart leaped. Secretly she’d hoped he would be here, but he lived down the coast in San Diego. Much of his work could be done remotely, so he would only join them for special meetings. She looked toward the door, and it was River.
Even with all the handsome patrons of the Café, River stood out. His hair was a little shinier, his eyes a little brighter. When Heath greeted him River smiled, flashing really white teeth. “Now, there are vampire clans—” Juana waved her hand at the group by the deck, “— and then there are Old World vampire clans.” She pointed her pinky at River. “The older and stronger the sire is, then the stronger, smarter, and better looking the young are.”
Juana jumped up and waved at River, calling his name. He finished speaking to Heath and joined them at the table. Darci felt hot and could barely swallow. This was not River, her school pal, allergy ridden and prone to asthma attacks. This was new and improved River 2.0. He’d been tall and reed thin at the time of the Incident. Now his dark red knit shirt molded gently to hard muscle.
"Glad you could make it,” Juana asked
He sat down next to Darci. "You drove up from San Diego?"
“Nope. I have a place here now, just moved out of my townhouse in the clan O’Keefe complex in San Diego. I thought San Diego was too much of a drive if there was an emergency.”
“I guess money is not a problem.”
“No. Money is not a problem.”
The Old World vampire clans like Clan O’Keefe were unbelievably wealthy. That’s how they stayed mostly hidden in the human world.
More drinks and dinner arrived. The seafood chowder and fresh bread she'd ordered was scrumptious.
The band came in to set up and River went over to them and talked for quite a while.
River returned. “The drummer. Kerry. He’s in my clan. Same cohort.”
Darci knew a vampire cohort meant they were wristlings together—fed blood from the wrist of an older vampire. Feeding without hunting gave them time to mature, time to control their violent hunting instinct.
“Well, isn’t he adorable. He’s just my type.” Juana said, standing up. Darci thought he was too young looking, almost a boy band look to him, but Juana was young. “I feel like dancing. Want to come?”
Darci shook her head. Juana moved to the dance floor, right to the spot where she could see the drummer better.
“He’s a nice guy, right?” Darci hoped her friend wasn’t getting into something way over her head.
River laughed. “Trust me, the one you need to worry about is Kerry. That girl will eat him alive.”
A waitress gave both of them a drink, courtesy of the bar.
“What’s it called?” Darci asked, liking the cranberry taste.
“A Merry Christmas!”
Darci finished her meal, glad she had some excuse to not try to chat with this new River.
River wiggled his glass so the ruby drink caught the light. “You’ve heard about Heath’s drinks, right?”
“No, but I heard about how good the food is. And they were right.” She pushed her plate away and took a sip of her drink. River grinned, shrugged and took a gulp of his.
They listened to the music for a while. A few times they tried to talk, but the band’s lively rockabilly Christmas music was too much competition.
“How about we go somewhere quiet? I know a coffee shop still open,” River said.
She nodded. River had been her best friend, and if the Incident hadn’t happened on their first real date, they might have moved from friends to lovers. She’d been excited about the possibilities that night, seeing him with new eyes. Life was different now, of course, but she still wanted to spend time with him.
She and River had been on their way to a fancy dinner for their first real date when they stopped to assist a motorist. Vicious rogue vampires, those who had been transformed without a clan to care for the new vampire, had staged the accident to lure prey. Clan vampires chased rogues and executed them, since so few could be rehabilitated. The rogues were destroyed, and the clan vampires chose to transform River as he bled out on the side of the road. Darci had been injured in the initial attack when a vampire physically picked her up and hurled her at a parked vehicle. She’d been unable to get to River or even phone for help and wavered in and out of consciousness for most of the rescue.
Darci followed him to a small diner on the edge of town, brightly lit with Christams lights. It was pretty full so she parked at the end of a row. As she got out of the car she heard an odd, muffled cry. Someone in trouble? There was a quanset hut warehouse across an empty lot. She heard the sound again.
“River,” she called and headed toward the warehouse as fast as her awkward body would take her. River joined her, far too fast, reminding her once again, he was no longer human.
“Darci?”
“I heard something.”A wail sounded from the dumpster nearby. They rushed to it. River leaped up onto the dumpster in one graceful, inhuman move, balanced on the edge, squatted down and fished something out.
“Well, hello, sweetheart,” he said in a soft, almost reverent voice.
“Huh?” It looked like he held a pile of newspapers.
He slipped back down to the ground, holding a tiny, newspaper wrapped bundle to his chest. It cried.