Bleeding Out (22 page)

“Does that mean you’ve got bastard daughters across the cosmos?”

This silences my father’s voice for a second. Then the building says:

“No. You are my only child. You were a mistake, but I’m glad that I made you.”

“How does something like you make a mistake like me?”

“Your mother and I struck by accident. Neither of us expected it. When she realized, after, what I was, she tried to find me, but your sister got to her first. Diane was lucky to get away from her that night.”

I realize that what he’s saying is true. She could have sustained those injuries while running from Arcadia. She knew that part of my sister lay inside me, that the column of fire chasing her through the streets would someday be in my blood. Still. She gambled on love.

“I think Arcadia hates you more than me,” I say.

“That is sadly true.”

“Is it because she feels betrayed?”

“No. I believe it is because she wanted a much better life than the one that I offered her. If anything, she envies you.”

“She was going to eat me.”

“In some cultures, that is a sign of great respect.”

“Father.” I close my eyes. I try to imagine what he looks like, beyond what I’ve seen in dreams. I imagine how he might spin. “When I ask you what you’re doing here, what I mean is, what’s going to happen?”

“That will depend on which vampire wins. It will also depend on whether the necromancers come back to roost in this city. Then it will be as if a thousand years had never passed.”

“That’s just
Thunderdome
.”

“I suppose the people with magic will either rise to the occasion, or be hunted to extinction. Demons will move unchecked through the city. It should be interesting to watch.”

I’ve spent my whole life waiting to stand up to my father. What surprises me now is how much I love him,
unexpectedly, old and dangerous thing that he is. Part of what made me, and, in some way, beautiful. His logic is not alien to me at all. I understand the choices that he needs to make. Love has always embarrassed me. But I feel it for this voice without a body.

“You will not stand back and watch,” I say. “You know that we deserve more chances. And I’m not even talking about the whole world. Have you seen this city, with its bridges and its glass and its roots in the ocean? I’ve spent my life protecting it.”

“Perhaps you need a new life.”

“No way. I’m still learning to drive this one.”

“Give me a reason, then. Why shouldn’t I let it all end?”

It’s an honest question. We’ve clearly fucked around with our magic; there’s no arguing that. If we’d been better investigators and more skilled managers, there wouldn’t be coked-out vampires on Granville Street right now. Why shouldn’t it end? That’s precisely the choice that Selena’s offering me, and maybe she’s right. Maybe we all need to retire.

But even as I think this, I don’t believe it. To me, magic has always felt like nothing more than our ability to listen. Tuning in to the stones and having a conversation with fire was possible, on a preconscious level, for everyone, but only people like me could actually convince the elements to do things. People like Lucian, now sweetly asleep next to a horned boy, can argue with death, but
more often, they spend most of their time just listening to it. I’m not ready to give up that conversation.

“We can change,” I say. “We can become better listeners.”

My father considers this. “You would change your core?”

“I’ll lead it.”

“What leadership skills do you possess?”

“I’m the head of a family.”

“You wish to depose your supervisor?”

“Not at all. I’ll be the boss, but Selena will still be my boss. I’m sure that can go in a rider somewhere.”

“You are serious.”

“You’re all up in my city’s grille. You think we’re messing around, but I know exactly how hard we work every day, just to connect. I’m not going to step aside and let you stop our pilot light. If change is what it takes, then I’ll be it.”

“Who will listen to you?”

“The real question is, who won’t listen to Selena?”

“I suppose she is like family to you.”

“I think she sees me more as an annoying stepchild. But I do know that she’ll help me. She’ll need more office space, though.”

“What makes you think that you can change anything at all?”

“Let’s just say that, however complicated my childhood
was, I came out of it with confidence. If I can raise vampires, I can raise a new core. If it catches on, maybe it’ll spread to Alberta. Who knows? The point is that I can do it.”

My father is silent. Then he asks: “Do you think you have learned magic’s lessons?”

“How many are there?”

“Six.”

“Oh. Well, it’s possible.”

“I will give you a choice, then. You can say good-bye to the experiment and return to your family. The core will fall, but you and those you love will be safe. I can promise you that, at least.”

“What’s the other option?”

“Dance with me.”

“You’re not even here.”

“I will undress. But you must also. You must be Ferid, and for that, you need to spin until you achieve grace. If you have learned magic’s lessons, you should be able to do this and survive. If not, you will detonate and consume the building, in which case, nothing changes.”

“That seems like a bit of an asshole move on your part. Couldn’t my test involve levitating a feather?”

“Spin or fail,” he says.

“Okay. I choose to spin.”

The light of my athame goes out.

I hear a mighty wind. In the dark of the room, my father is a storm. I feel myself becoming clouds. It hurts,
but I let myself unravel, as cloth must. As I start to spin, I think about magic’s lessons.

Death, you taught me that our ghosts forgive us, that entropy sleeps next to us all, that everything will one day be trace.

Thought, you taught me that sleep is precious, that telepaths are people who put up with a lot, that memory dies if you don’t palpate it.

Earth, you taught me about centers and rifts, that stones worry about us, that our passions leave a record.

Water, you taught me silence, that our beautiful mothers are always fishing for us, that love is damp.

Fire, who I was once so scared of, you taught me that all our carbon has been through more than we could possibly imagine, that so many warm things are hard to let go of, that a determined spark can get a lot done.

And air, which I give myself to now, you taught me that birds see everything and still pardon us, that we’re all barely here, that I can be anything because I have been a storm.

I may not have learned magic’s lessons by heart, but I can read the sheet music. I can get by. I can dance, because my father is leading.

I peel off my rind and turn faster in his hands. The air sings to me as I come apart. I see Lorenzo. He’s screaming something at me, but I can’t hear. I turn and I turn and then I explode.

We’re nearly done packing. I say “we,” but Mia’s
the one who’s actually leaving, and she’s done the least amount of packing possible. She sees herself in more of a supervisory position. Patrick and Lucian get to do most of the heavy lifting, which includes her library (not going to fit in the car), DVD collection, and Hefty cinch sacks full of clothes. It’s still warm outside. Kevin Johansen plays on the radio.
Si no tiene logo / falta poco / saravarava
. Don’t worry if you don’t have a label. Good vibes.
Saravarava
indeed.

“How many hardcovers do you own?” Patrick exhales as he lifts a nearby box, which has been madly taped. “Please, promise me that when you get to Toronto, you’ll buy a Kindle.”

“I’ll do no such thing,” she says. “I like the smell of books, and that’s that. Plus, you have vampire strength, so use it.”

“I’m about to use it to knock you through a wall, sassy.”

My mother steps into the living room. “No fighting. This is Mia’s last day with us.”

“That’s right.” Mia kisses Patrick on the cheek, which almost makes him drop the box. “You’re gonna
miss
me. Because you
loooove
me.”

“Shut up, sprat.”

My mother gives me a look. Something like,
Aren’t they interesting?
It’s a covert attempt to set off my biological clock, but I ignore it. Lucian and I aren’t ready for a baby. We’ve already got a vampire, a house god (who loves polishing everything in the house), and a dog whose person spends most of his time here. Even with Mia gone, the house will never be silent. Which I suppose is how I like it. Not loud, per se. Just full.

I don’t know what made her choose the University of Toronto over Berkeley, Brown, and all the other schools that she applied to. It’s still far away, but at least she’s still on my side of the border. Most likely, she used a calculation to determine who had the best courses in Everything Studies, and U of T won out, but I’d still like to think that a part of her wanted to remain close.

When I stopped spinning, everything was different. Lucian and Ru woke up, rubbing their eyes, like Miranda on her island suddenly realizing how vast the ocean was,
how everything could be new. The lights returned. I finally realized what Lorenzo, barely corporeal, had been screaming:
Don’t forget who you are
. I guess I didn’t.

Hand in hand in shadow, we walked up to street level, and couldn’t believe the scene. It was the Stanley Cup riots with vampires everywhere, tweaked out, turning on one another. Patrick and his crew were trying to corral them. Modred, I guess, had fled. Patrick told me later that they’d faced each other in single combat, but Modred hesitated. Perhaps he didn’t have it in him to strike down his student. Now he would always be an apostate, banished from the vampire nation for treason.

Water arced in the air. A bus was turned over on its side, like an angry turtle, throwing off sparks. Selena was directing traffic, her athame blazing as she used it to draw arrows of light. When she saw me, one eyebrow raised in a question.
What happened to you?
It would take the next few weeks to properly answer her. But I did know that I’d won the argument with my father. The vampire coup would not inspire epic Anglo-Saxon poetry. When the sun set, Patrick was still in charge, and everyone knew it.

And my mother appeared, running across the dangerous street.

“Tess! Are you okay?”

I don’t think I’ve ever loved her more than I did in that moment. I grabbed her and held on for dear life.

“Where have you been all this time?”

“I got sucked into watching
The Tudors
and ignored the phone. You have no idea how great this season is.” She surveys the street. “I’ve obviously missed something, though.”

“You’re damn right you did! I talked to Dad.”

“Well.” She smiled. “I always knew you would someday.”

In many ways, nothing visible has changed, except that now the CORE remembers that it was once a single core among many. Our building, our fortress, is still there. But now we’re putting fewer funds into forensic analysis and more into research and preservation. I realized, while dancing with my father, that you can’t mete out justice when your own past is silent and collecting dust. We’re even building a museum in the subbasement, with dioramas.

For years, we were obsessed with handing in reports to the faceless. Now Selena, my mother, and I are the ones who read the reports. Selena is our public face (because of her sunny personality). My mother gracefully accepted a position as CORE historian, and she’s slowly but surely working her way through a thousand years of records. I think she enjoys it. What’s my job? Well, I’m on the phone a lot. I’m learning new languages. I’m meeting new demons. And when I get time, I lead investigations and teach classes. I take sparks on tours through the lab, saying things like,
This is where we used to keep the giant fuming hood, but now it’s a day care
.
Tell your parents not to worry. It’s safe
.

Lorenzo is back in Trinovantum, trying to make a ghost community. His efforts have been hit-or-miss so far, but Lucian smiles whenever he gets a spectral text from his brother. They’re learning to be in each other’s undead lives again.

My mother gives Mia an insulated bag. “There’s meat loaf in here. It should last you until you reach Edmonton.”

“Thank you.”

We gather outside on the front porch. Mia stands in front of the car that she bought after graduating high school. I can’t believe this is it. I’ve been saying good-bye to her in fits and starts for years, but now she’s about to drive four provinces away from me, a heavenly body breaking orbit to run away. I want to snatch her back, but I know that it’s impossible.

“This is it,” Mia says. She hugs Derrick and Miles. “Take care of each other. Promise that we’ll Skype.”

“We’ll Skype our brains out,” Derrick says. “I love you, kiddo.”

“I love you, too. Both of you.” She turns to Lucian. “And this guy? Come on, give me some sugar.”

Lucian hugs her. “Drive carefully. Observe the speed limit.”

“Okay, death-dealer. I’ll watch for students and baby ducks crossing the street. You watch out for Tess.”

“I’m always one step ahead of her.”

“Thank goodness.” She hugs my mother. “Thank you for everything, especially the food. I promise to send you letters.”

“Yes. Real letters, on stationery. Nothing typed.”

“Only high-quality card stock. Got it.”

Patrick hugs her. “Sis. Take care. If you meet any vampires, mention my name and you’ll get discounts.”

“Thanks. I’m gonna miss you, puppy.”

He kisses her on the cheek. “Me, too.”

She turns to me. “Well?”

“Well.”

We both look at each other for a few seconds.

“I’m so proud of you,” I say. “I’ll love you forever. Text me every time you stop for gas or have to pee.”

“I’ll send constant biological updates.”

“Don’t make me worry.”

“I won’t.”

“And don’t just study. Toronto’s a beautiful city. Go places. Make a few bad decisions. Ride a street car at random.”

“I will.”

“Be happy.”