We Become the Night
Chapter 14:

Dinner with the wolves

With my face flaming red from embarrassment, I head out of the pharmacy, or as I’ve now begun to think of it, Alexis’ domain. I walk a few buildings down to Blood Bar.

The outside of the bar/restaurant is a dark wood that almost looks like a log cabin. There’s light and music spilling out from the inside. The bright sign above the door that announces this place to be the “Blood Bar” casts an eerie red glow onto the patrons entering.

I enter the bar and stand in the doorway, scanning the area for Garrett. The all-wooden floor is jam packed with people. The wide-open floorplan is haphazardly filled with tables of varying sizes, all wood, all of which are currently filled. The bar that runs along the back wall is also wood, shined to a gleaming finish and trimmed with silver, it too is completely packed. All along the walls are black and white photos of famous vampires in cinema, ranging from Nosferatu to Louis de Pointe du Lac from Interview with a vampire, to Angelus from Buffy.

I spot Cindy at the bar, and she waves me over. She’s dressed in a bright pink, spaghetti strap tank and black skirt. I can see claw marks just above her left breast with the hawk’s talon gripping her shoulder. I head her way when I feel a hand clasp down on my shoulder. I yelp and whirl around. Garrett is behind me, attempting, but failing, to hold in laughter.

“Thanks for taking twenty years off my life.” I have to pitch my voice over the sounds of Bon Jovi. He motions for me to follow him. I turn back to Cindy to wave bye, but she has her back to me now. I turn around and follow Garrett off the main floor and to the back area. It’s significantly quieter back here, and we can talk without having to yell at each other.

“That’s better.” He sounds happy to see me. He certainly looks good. He’s currently wearing a dark blue silk shirt over black slacks with the top two buttons undone. On his feet are what look like expensive loafers, also in black. His dark hair is mussed, as though he’s been running his hand through it constantly. I have to stop myself from letting my tongue hang out. I feel incredibly under dressed next to him in my jeans, sneakers, and casual button down.

“Hey, yeah. I never asked, but I take it that vampires own it from the name and the décor.”

“Yeah. My family owns it.” He sits on a padded couch and pats the seat next to him, inviting me to sit.

“Your family, huh?” I think on that one for a moment while I get comfortable.

“I keep seeing the movie vampires out there. Kinda cool.” Then, because I can’t help poking the dragon, or in this case, vampire, I add with a mischievous smile, “I never see any Twilight though.”

“Twilight? Do I look like I fucking sparkle?” The words sound harsh, but he’s smiling when he says them.

“Well, maybe not sparkle, but you certainly shine.” I know I’m flirting. I don’t know where it’s coming from, but I can’t help it. He howls with laughter and claps his hand on my knee.

“What’s so funny back here, huh?” I hear a familiar voice ask.

“Nothing, Jame. Just Cal being funny.” It’s the first time he’s said my name, and my heart soars. Usually, he just calls me “man” or “dude,” but he’s finally said my name. Jamie comes around the partition from the same way we entered.

“Hey, Cal. How you doing out here?”

“I’m doing fine. Garrett has been great the last few weeks, showing me around town and whatnot.” I would have gotten up to give her a hug, but I noticed that he hasn’t taken his hand off my knee, and I’m in no hurry to move it myself. I feel his thumb rubbing my knee-cap, and my bones go to mush.

“Yeah, he’s a good guy.” The way she says it makes me think there’s something else to the statement.

“So, what you need, Jame?”

“Dad asked me to check on you. He wondered where you’d gotten off to.”

“Well, you can tell Dad that I’m having dinner with my friend.” His hand squeezes my knee briefly, then his thumb continues its massage of my knee-cap. I have nothing to add to what he told her, so I keep my mouth shut.

“I’m not your messenger. However, since I happen to be headed that way, I’ll let him know. Don’t get used to it.”

“Thanks, sis.”

“Bye, Cal. Give me a call sometime. We’ll hang.” She waves as she leaves.

“Bye, Jamie. Nice seeing you again.” I wave back at her.

“Good, now we’re alone again.” He smiles, once again flashing his fangs. He leans towards me, as though to let me in on a secret. I lean closer to him. I want so bad to kiss him. I want it more than I want to take my next breath.

He leans even closer. I can now feel his breath on my face. He moves his hand to my chin, lightly pulling me towards him. I couldn’t move if a rampaging buffalo came tearing through the room. Before I can think another thought, his lips are on mine. Soft at first, then more demanding. I return the kiss demand for demand. I feel his fangs scrape my bottom lip, and it makes me tremble. My body responds to him in more than just a kiss. Garrett moves his hand from my chin to cup behind my head. My hand feels as though it’s moving of its own accord and mirrors his, cupping his head.

I’m so lost in the kiss that I don’t notice someone standing in the doorway.

“Ahem,” we hear the person clear their throat. The kiss ends and I jump back. I don’t get far since Garrett’s hand is still holding my head.

“Hey, Dad.” Garrett greets the man standing and staring at us. Dad? I panic. This is not how I wanted to meet his dad, flushed from kissing and uncomfortable, physically. I try to move further away, but it’s no use. Garrett has me solidly by his side.

“Garrett.” His dad merely says his name, as though that says it all. “I wasn’t expecting to replace you in here making out, boyo. The wolves are expecting us.” He has a slight Irish lilt to his voice.

“No problem, Dad. We’ll be right along.”

“I don’t want to have to come back here to get you. Five minutes.” He holds up his hand, palm out with all five fingers extended, as he walks out of the room.

“Well, that was certainly embarrassing. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry about what? That was great. Did you see his face?” Garrett is getting a big kick out of this. Meanwhile, I feel like crawling in a hole and not coming out for a very long time.

“What’s your dad gonna think of me if the first time we meet I’m sucking face with his son?”

“Don’t worry about it. Also, first time? Do you plan on spending a lot of time with me?”

“Well, I hoped...” I trail off as I don’t know exactly what to say. Garrett leans in and gives me a quick kiss. Then he gets up and pulls me to my feet. I follow behind him, my hand in his, as we make our way out of the room.

He leads me down a lushly decorated hallway. In direct contrast to the main part of the bar, this area is carpeted with thick, blood red carpet. The walls are painted a light absorbing black. There’s no overhead, florescent lighting here. Every few feet or so are wall sconces with little candle bulbs in them. The effect is very eerie and definitely vampire.

“Don’t get many visitors here, do you?” I ask Garrett, clutching his hand.

“My dad likes to make an impression on the VIP guests. Mostly, it’s his business associates that come down here.”

“Where exactly is ‘here’? Are we still in the bar?”

“Not exactly. The beginning of the hallway starts in the alley behind the bar. That door up there,” he points to the blood red door we’re headed to, “is the building next door. My family owns many of the businesses around here, but we rent them out to the paras around town.”

I have nothing to say to that, so I keep my mouth shut. We continue to the door, all the while my heart is pounding at the thought of sitting with his father for any length of time after he caught us making out.

We finally reach the door; Garrett opens it with his free hand. I don’t think I could have been less prepared for what is behind the door. Garrett’s father is sitting at the head of a large, oval table with about six or seven other people sitting along the sides.

Garrett doesn’t say anything as we enter. He pulls me along behind him to the chair opposite his father. He lets go of my hand, then gestures at the empty chair to his right, obviously intending me to sit there. I sit and fold my hands in my lap. Garrett sits in his seat, staring stonily at his father.

“Well, now that my son and his...Boyfriend?” he directs the question at Garrett. Garrett glances at me; I give him a small shrug with a hopeful smile. Garrett turns back to his father and gives him a slight nod.

“Good. Now that my son and his boyfriend have joined us, we may begin.” Garrett’s father claps loudly, twice. Men and women, possibly servants, come out from the doors behind him and begin laying plates with silver domes on them in front of the others sitting around the table.

“Son, what faction are you from?” I realize Garrett’s father is addressing me.

“Uh...”

“He’s a changeling, Dad.” Garrett’s face is entirely impassive.

“Changeling, huh? Doris, please bring...” He raises an eyebrow at Garrett, and I see where Garrett got that particular habit.

“His name is Caleb Hemming.” Garrett supplies for me.

“Very well. Doris, please bring Mr. Hemming a dish for changelings.” The servant at his elbow bows her head and heads back through the doors. She comes out and places a dish in front of me, also with a dome placed over it. In front of Garrett and his father are silver chalices and silver carafes.

A servant (I hate using that word, but it’s the only one I can think to describe them) is standing just behind and to the right of each of the people seated around the table except Garrett and his father. They all seem to be watching Garrett’s father for a signal. He nods. They, all as one, reach over and lift the domes off the plates.

On my plate is a large steak that smells like it’s been barely grilled, ribs that are fall-off-the-bone tender, and half a dozen pork chops. My mouth waters at the delicious scents. I look around; the other people have slightly similar plates. Are they all changelings? I wonder.

“Enjoy, please.” Garrett’s father indicates to begin eating with a wave of his hand. He looks really regal when he does that. I think to myself.

I look at Garrett for confirmation. He nods slightly, so I assume it’s safe to eat.

I pick up my fork and knife and cut into the steak. I almost lose it as my stomachs grumbles noisily and just pick it up and eat with my hands. Sheer willpower is the only thing keeping me from doing so. After traveling most of the day, and only eating fast food, the first bite of steak is like heaven. I’ve never shied away from meat in my diet, but ever since I was bitten, I’ve actively craved it.

Garrett is discretely sipping from the silver goblet, but I can see his lips slightly tinted red when he sets the goblet down. I wonder briefly what animal was drained for his blood, then I dismiss the thought, calling myself a hypocrite as I sit here and eat steak and pork.

When most of the people in the room have finished and my own plate is empty, Garrett’s father calls the attention to himself.

“Now, I know that this gathering was rather unplanned. Please don’t let stop you from voicing what concerns you have. Now, as king of the wolf faction, Andrei Volkov has had some concerns with the hawks and tigers. The Kaplan and Gwain families have part of this neighborhood for centuries. Please, Andrei, let’s hear what the issue is so that we can go back to living amongst each other peacefully.” Garrett’s father looks and sounds just like what he is, a king, and his voice is faintly hypnotic.

The biggest of the wolves sitting at the table rises and clears his throat. He is tall and muscular, but not stocky like Joshua, more like wiry.

“You know, Cashel, wolves and tigers never get along.” His voice is thick with an East European accent. If I had to guess, I’d say Ukranian or Russian.

“This has not been problem before. My detenysh has been hassled one too many times lately.” The younger wolf he gestures towards tries to look whipped by hanging his head, as though he has been picked on. He doesn’t. He still looks like he could kick everyone’s ass in the room, including Mr. Killian’s.

“What proof, Volkov, do you have that the tigers have been a menace? And your note said that you had an issue with the hawks as well.”

“The hawks,” he looks mad enough to spit. “Gwain harbors uzhasnyy kot. Guards like her own rebenok.” Mr. Killian doesn’t look amused.

“English, please, Andrei. Not everyone here understands Russian.”

“You want English. How this for English? Tiger. Is. Shit.”

“Andrei Volkov, you asked for this meeting. Do you have something concrete? Something that I can pull Catrin Gwain in here for. Something more than a dislike of their species.”

“You take my word, Cashel. Or you don’t.”

“I’m sorry, Andrei. This isn’t the old world. I can’t just banish or kill because the mood strikes. I have to have proof. We live in 21st century America now, not 4th century Europe. Understand?”

“Understood, Cashel. Thank you for meal. Till ’nother time, my friend.” He bows his head then holds his arm out. Mr. Killian gets up and grasps Mr. Volkov’s outstretched arm. They pull each other in for a hug, slapping each other on the back once. The wolves get up from the table and bow to Mr. Killian. Mr. Volkov and the other wolves exit out a side door, leaving Garrett and me alone with Mr. Killian.