“SO…,” CHAZ said. “Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but you’re a myth.”
Artie raised her eyes. A ghost of a smile danced on her lips. She seemed more amused than offended. She set down her utensils and picked up her glass of wine. They’d only sat down ten minutes ago to a meal of curried chickpeas and wild rice, but Chaz couldn’t wait anymore. Sully sat beside him at a long table with Artie at the head. Her smile grew wider and wider until Chaz finally took a drink of his blood. His skin flushed from Sully’s taste and the feeling of all eyes in the room on him.
“Maybe we should wait until dessert?” Sully said.
“I don’t have any. Not a big sweet tooth,” Artie said.
“I’m shocked. I’ll have to grab Kit Kats before I go.” Sully laughed, trying to lighten the mood.
“I apologize,” Chaz said. “I shouldn’t have asked so soon.”
“Nonsense. I already knew this was coming. Sully told me you saw my reflection. Or lack of it.”
“So… it’s true? You are a myth. What one?”
“Artemis. Artie for short.” She flashed her smile again. “My sisters are Aphrodite, Athena, and Hestia. They also run houses.”
“The names on the forms,” Chaz said. “Heather, Didi, Anna, and you.”
“That would be right. Well done.”
“I figured it out after the lecture,” Sully said. “When Chaz said you had no reflection, I remembered you calling Hestia over the phone and I realized that wasn’t the Czech version of Heather’s name like I’d thought, but her actual name. She’s the goddess of the hearth. But I don’t know anything else beyond that. Certainly not the whole story.”
“No one really does know the whole thing,” Artie said. “Our stories are always told in bits and pieces. Our pasts will never make sense the same way to anyone.”
“How are you created?” Sully asked.
“Not born of body,” Chaz said, “which leaves…?”
“Desire. Most supernatural creatures manifest at a traumatic moment in their life. Trauma is rooted to bodies. It’s rooted to human physiques who spark fire or change form or conjure magic to protect themselves. When you’re upset, something very physical happens and so supernatural creatures can only come from those born of bodies. Myths are the opposite. We exist when there is desire for us. We come into physical form when we are needed and exist only for that need.”
The present moment. No past or future, but always existing. Chaz was in awe. He’d always heard of myths being real, but this was the first time he’d seen it with his own eyes. When he told her that, Artie just shook her head.
“I’m the first one you’ve known for sure. You’ve probably met other myths.”
“So why here? Why now?”
“Because all four of us were needed. There need to be four so we can make things better for the people who are hurt the most.”
“Sex workers?” Chaz questioned.
“Women, children, abused people. We take them out of sex work because no one else has. But we can’t do this forever. Even we get tired.”
“Especially when you’re being targeted,” Chaz said. “We can’t find a gang connection. It’s too hard. It’s too—”
“I know. It’s not a gang doing this to us. We have someone in charge of that. She has good sources, but even she can’t keep doing everything.”
“So you don’t think you’re being targeted?” Chaz asked, then checked with Sully. “Are you sure?”
“Fairly certain,” Artie said. “I believe those fleets went missing because of a vampire who hates what he’s become. Every single one had a vamp involved and all were killed by vamps. He hates what he’s become, so he’s killed those who remind him of what he sees in the mirror, because his own enemy is himself. I guarantee if you go outside my records and search in your police files, that you’ll find similar crimes.”
“If they let me search,” Chaz said. He’d need to get all those names from Artie, but he wasn’t sure what good it would do—even if he did go back to work sooner than he expected. “Vamps aren’t exactly the most loved creatures. Everyone thinks we’re addicts. Fiends. We care about no one but ourselves. But it’s not always true.”
“I suspect not,” Artie said. “Rumors and stereotypes are like myths. They become out of control on their own, but there is a grain of truth. You become self-hating if you don’t have good images of who you are.”
Chaz didn’t know what to say, because that was true. His family left him because he’d been turned into a vamp, and not knowing how to be one, he turned into something awful. Divine Interventions was supposed to teach him how to be a proper vamp so he didn’t harm someone, but it only made him hate himself more.
“You’re not like that now, though,” Artie said. “You’ve learned something better.”
“From Nat,” Chaz said quietly. Nat had loved him in spite of his flaws, but even that Chaz had fucked up by handing him over. Because I thought that’s what love meant. Love meant betrayal. It was the only way he’d ever seen it from his parents to Vanessa—love always meant something far worse.
“Pardon? What did you say, dear?” Artie asked. Only Sully seemed to hear Chaz’s response, and he shook his head at Artie, waving off the concern.
“So what is the end goal with this?” Sully said, jumping in. “I know you’re working to get people free, but you said you’re getting tired. So what do you do next?”
“We’ve been working together for years with one end goal: legalize sex work.”
“What?”
“When supernaturals or humans exist in a job that’s illegal, it makes them vulnerable. It puts them in unfortunate situations and it creates a high demand for a dangerous product. People want this product already, but it becomes dirty and shameful and unsafe when there are no regulations. It criminalizes people involved in it, instead of helping them. If we legalize sex work, we get regulations. We get screenings. We get all the things that we have now at this house but without shame in the public’s eye.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Chaz said. “Even if it’s legal, there will still be kids who are forced.”
“Yes. That has been a constant from the beginning of time. If we have laws, then we can safely stop it and prosecute it. Everyone gets to be a person under the law—supernaturals included. If we change how we define the category of victim and put measures in place to legalize sex work, then we can have a better system for making sure those who are victims aren’t exploited and those who abuse people are put away. Once one law has been changed, the precedent has been set. It’s a big goal, but we’ve been working on it for years.”
Chaz considered this for a long, long time. He took a sip of the blood. “Maybe this could work. I’m still unsure I understand it all.”
“Me too,” Sully said. “How do the others fall into this? What do your sisters do?”
“Well, Aphrodite has been experimenting for years with birth control and how to properly set up boundaries. Most of our procedures here are policies written by her. Hestia made the passageways that people follow to safe houses; she also built and designed our current houses so each room is safe. Anna, or Athena, is the main person with law-making capabilities. She’s working on setting up the proper scope—and really, she’s the final piece in this.”
“And you?”
“I’m the science side. The research side. Each person who comes in, I get their story. I figure out all the sex-traffic rings, and I take their blood.”
“What is the blood for?”
“I’ve also been studying diseases. I make sure the women and men are safe when they come through and try to track down all the possible infections they can get. I also can tell their origin point. When an elemental or witch manifests, it shows up on their blood. Same with werewolves and vampires. All creatures who interact with them and form blood-to-blood contact also show up.”
“It does?”
“Yes. The black-market blood that’s shifted from place to place always leaves a trail of where it first began. It’s a biological map the same way DNA is, but we’ve been using each unique strand to trace where the gangs are, how they run their own shipments, and how supernatural creatures are trafficked. That’s another reason why I know we’re not being targeted by these gangs: my research doesn’t support it. But I suspect your killer has been trying to do the same with his blood.”
“What?” Chaz asked. “He’s been performing science experiments?”
“Not so much. But I think, if he hates being a vampire, he’d been doing some soul searching. Chances are he knows who infected him. I suspect he’s killed him or her already. But from there, he’s been taking it out on all vampires since they represent the first one.”
“Recreate the scene of the crime,” Sully said. “Erase pain through reenactment. It’s the oldest psychological healing method in the world.”
“Exactly,” Artie said. “Trauma is a wound that needs to heal. Your killer was bitten and infected. That’s the worst wound, the kind that never goes away because his blood is a constant reminder of what he’s become. He can’t erase that, so he erases those like him.”
“Oh wow,” Chaz said. So much of the crimes made sense. So much of his own life made sense. He stared at the blood in front of him and saw Sully reflected in the glass. He slipped his hand under the table and squeezed him. When Sully squeezed him back, Chaz was pulled from his darker thoughts.
“So, how do we fix this? Is there any way our killer is one of the workers who left the business after coming here?”
Artie didn’t answer for a long time. “It’s possible. But I don’t think so.”
“Why not? It’s possible, right? So we can’t exclude it.”
Artie’s eyes flashed with anger. It was so strong, but such a quiet, mythic anger that Chaz felt tied to his chair.
“That’s true. It’s possible,” she said slowly. “But only a handful of people know you can trace origins in blood. It’s the black-market knowledge—and I know everyone who has access. He can’t be one of them. And I’m very uncomfortable pointing the fingers at any workers. That’s our inclination. That’s what society has taught us to do. But these guys and girls have had a hard time. Chances are, your man was never in the game.”
Chaz wanted to ask why she was so sure. Was it because she was a goddess? A myth? Did she really have all-seeing powers? Maybe with all four of them together, they did. But Chaz couldn’t know or tell. He looked at the blood in front of him and saw Sully in the glass again. Would he show up in Chaz’s blood now, because he’d consumed him? Would he show up on Sully?
Artie seemed to sense what he was thinking as she went on. “Point of infection becomes marked like the rings of a tree. I see the first person who changed someone, but then the lines get fainter as time goes on. As you must know, not everyone you feed from becomes a part of you. You can interact with Trina’s blood and not transform her, but she’ll still show up on your panel because she’s a supernatural. If you drink from someone and don’t transform them through blood-to-blood contact, they’re not there.”
Like my one unchanged victim, Chaz thought. And Sully.
Sully met his eyes. We’re not a part of each other, he seemed to say. Chaz couldn’t tell if it was good or bad.
“Do you want me to do a panel for you? To see who comes up in your past?”
“I know who infected me,” Chaz said.
“But do you want to know who else is there?”
Chaz considered it for a long, long time. When he finally tore his eyes away from Sully, he nodded.
“Okay. I will. But after dinner.” Artie picked up her fork and continued eating, as if nothing had happened. For Chaz, nothing would ever be the same again.
“JUST A pinch,” Artie said.
Chaz made a face as the needle went in. The pinching sensation dulled as his body rushed endorphins to the area. He watched as his blood was sucked out of his arm and into a bag. “Do you really need that much for a panel?”
“Yes, and insurance.”
“Ah,” Chaz said. “Still don’t trust me?”
“I do because Sully does. And he’s a good judge of character. But if we find something that helps us, we need to have lots so we can run the panel again.”
Chaz nodded, considering this. Sully had gone upstairs to see if anyone was using his room, and if they were, how they were adjusting. Chaz and Artie were still in the basement, and he hoped they’d be done as soon as possible. He didn’t like how much he already missed Sully, or maybe, how much he wanted him close so he could feel better.
“What do you think you’ll find?”
“Probably nothing too unique,” Artie said. “But you’ve had an interesting life, Chaz Solomon.”
Chaz balked at hearing his full name. “Sully tell you my last name too?”
“I have my ways.”
“Huh. I thought all those records were sealed.”
“They are. I’m a myth, though. I can go places others can’t.”
Chaz nodded. He should have figured this would happen. Utter his name once and everything fell apart. Relief instead of embarrassment flowed through him. It was so nice to be called that again.
“I’m sorry about what you went through,” Artie said. “It’s not fair for anyone.”
“We’re all victims, but we’re all guilty of something too.”
“That’s true. You can’t plead innocent when you go to trial.”
Chaz’s heart hurt. Nat. Nat had said that before. “Where… did you hear that?”
“Oh. Something that Athena said once. Here. Hold this against your arm.” Artie swapped out the needle and gave him a cotton ball. She taped it in place a second later and labeled his bag of blood.
“Hey, this may sound odd, but—”
“Probably not.”
“If I were to get some of the victims’ blood for you, what would happen? Would you be able to run them?”
“Well, I already have Fatima Aleem, Hector Juarez, Patrick Mortimer, and Darcy Chariandy on file.”
“Why do you keep saying their names aloud? It’s hard to hear.”
“Exactly why I say them aloud, so we don’t lose sight of what we’re here for. But I already have their blood.”
“Not the victim in the church, though. Alan Ramirez. They say he did all the crimes, but I don’t believe it. If you could see his panel, maybe I could have evidence for sure. I wouldn’t tie it to you. I’d keep you and Sully out of it.”
“You haven’t quite kept Sully out of anything. He seems to be at the center of this storm.”
Chaz felt scolded. He supposed he deserved it.
“It’s hard after death,” Artie said. “The blood is only good for so long. But if you get it, I’ll run it. I’ll see what I can find. And if you can’t get it, we’ll try and send someone else to.”
“Another myth?”
Artie smiled. That was all the answer he needed. Chaz rolled down his sleeve, keeping the cotton ball in place. Artie stood from her research and brought him into the foyer where the elevators were. She pressed the button but waited with him.
“When will I get the results?”
“In a few days. Don’t worry, though. You’ll be fine. Thank you for trusting us.” The elevator door opened and Artie gestured toward it. “I’m not going up, but go and see Sully. Be good to him too.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Good. I believe you.”
When Chaz reached the foyer, only Tabby was there. She was behind the counter, seemingly bored out of her mind. She murmured that Sully wasn’t done yet but would be soon, then flipped through a magazine on wildlife.
“Do you mind if I wait here for him?” Chaz gestured toward the couch and pinched the Band-Aid in his arm hair. He flinched as he took a seat.
“You should shave,” Tabby said.
“What?”
“Artie took your blood, right? So your arm hair is in the way. She should have shaved the area so you didn’t get stuck. I have some Nair, if you want to get rid of it before you pull it again.” Tabby rustled in a box behind the counter, not waiting for his response.
“Oh, it’s fine. I don’t really feel it.” Chaz rolled up his sleeve and tore the tape away. He clenched his jaw. Okay, I felt that. He also felt his face again, his beard making him self-conscious.
“Well, if you change your mind, I have you covered.” Tabby put the bottle on the counter and winked. She seemed sad to return to her magazine, so Chaz shifted his attention toward her.
“I never asked you anything during the interviews,” he said, “but do you remember any weird guys coming in?”
She laughed. “Oh, be more specific, please.”
“Fair enough.” Chaz tried to envision the self-hating vamp. Going again and again to the scene of a crime, taking down vampires because he himself was one. He probably went to brothels to see what kind of people they had, then made a note. Followed them. Found the underground networks incidentally and started to take out anyone who was just like him. So would he have sex with anyone here? Probably not. “Anyone come in looking for the same worker?”
“Other than you?”
“Yes,” Chaz said, blushing.
“Most people have a favorite. Some people get upset when they’re not free, but that usually means they book in advance rather than getting upset.”
“Anyone like vampires?”
“Eh.” She shrugged. “Not anyone that stands out.”
“Okay, well, anyone come in and not have sex? What about just looking for blood?” Chaz nodded, feeling like he was onto something. A self-hating vamp would still have to feed. He’d need a place like Artie’s, or Didi’s, or Heather’s. “Anyone get really particular about blood?”
“Again, other than you…. Yeah. Actually.” Tabby twisted her braids in her hands as she put together a profile. “There was this guy who came by a couple weeks ago. Tall. Dark skin but not like yours—olive. Maybe Latino. He asked for several different kinds of blood and if he could bring it all back to his place. He didn’t want to drink it here. When I told him he couldn’t do that, he got upset.”
“That’s gotta be it,” Chaz said. Too ashamed to drink it in front of people but needing it. Who knew, maybe the guy did have a science degree and he was figuring out the same tracking system Artie was. None of it mattered, though, because for once Chaz felt as if he had him. He asked Tabby a couple more questions to get the looks of the guy down, but she made a face.
“I’m not good with describing this type of thing. But I can draw. You want me to draw him?”
“Yes. Thank you. That would be perfect.”
She was already sketching in her notepad. A few minutes later, she handed it over. Chaz stared at a handsome face with strong jawline and a scar over his eyebrow. “And he’s never come back?”
“Not that I remember.”
“Thank you.” Chaz barely had time to fold the piece of paper in his pocket before he heard the elevator doors open. Sully stepped off with a bag over his shoulder, probably full of clothing. He smiled as he spotted Chaz and walked right over.
“You okay?” Sully said, referring to his arm.
“Oh yeah. Piece of cake.”
“Red velvet cake.” Sully lingered close to Chaz’s body, his smile inviting. Tabby pretended to busy herself on the computer, giving them the illusion of privacy. Chaz had to fight the urge to kiss Sully—then he wondered why. He reached out to stroke Sully’s chin, then brought their lips together.
“Okay, maybe you were right,” Sully said, laughing as he pulled away. “Your stubble is killing me.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll shave. Then will you kiss me?”
Sully grinned again. He cupped the back of Chaz’s neck, pulling him close so he could whisper in his ear, “I’ll do more than kiss you, Chaz Solomon. Now take me home.”