Anri felt as if he had been walking on air ever since Seth dropped him off at Simone’s apartment this morning. It was too early for him to be awake, but Seth had some school stuff to take care of, something with his thesis, so he was woken during hours of the morning he was generally not well associated with and driven home.

They didn’t do much talking this morning, either. Seth didn’t seem to be much of a morning person, and Anri was feeling a bit more of the embarrassment he thought he should have experienced last night. Something during last night made it easier to let go and be honest. Whatever it was, it was not there in the groggy morning hours. The conversation they had this morning was a little awkward, but not in a bad way. More like awkward in a ‘new lovers who were still unsure of themselves’ way.

Anri snoozed through most of the car ride back and Simone wasn’t there when he got home. He said a silent thanks to whatever powers might be that he got a temporarily pass from the walk of shame he knew she would put him through. At the very least, she was going to make him admit she was right. He pouted. She was always right.

She wasn’t home when he got up again after his mid morning nap, and still not when was ready to leave for work. He didn’t want her to still be worried about him, especially because of the shooting incident the other day, so he sent her a quick text. She was probably at one of her friend’s houses. Maybe Maggie. He hadn’t seen her around, lately, so Simone had probably been going to her house.

It was too sunny out today. He frowned at the outside, angry with it for being so bright and shiny. He threw on a sweatshirt, then pulled the hood over his head. He slipped on his new black leather coat and soft leather gloves, freshly delivered from the magical realms of the internet, shifting the coat until it lay more comfortably over his hoodie. It took him a minute to find his sunglasses, then he was ready to brave the excessively bright arctic outdoors.

There hadn’t really had much time to think about the incident, not with everything that had happened with Seth in the meantime. As he walked to work he mulled the events over in his mind. The details of the night were fuzzy, and even fuzzier with the more blood he lost. Still, he needed to rebuild the night, to figure out why he was targeted. He built a fact sheet in his head.

First fact, a guy in a cloak had shot him through the chest with an arrow. Anri knew he wasn’t vampire, and it didn’t seem likely that he was a Wren, so he was probably only human.

Second fact, the shot had missed his vital organs, even if it was only slightly. Maybe Cloak Guy was a bad shot? Cloak Guy had seemed really surprised that he had actually shot him at all. He reminded Anri of the kids in the group he used to play D&D with. Maybe he was a nerd who got caught up in some fantasy larp gone wrong? Maybe he was a fang chaser? Possibly an alleged vampire hunter? Had Anri wronged him, could this have nothing to do with being a vampire?

No, that wasn’t right. He had called Anri a monster. He knew Anri wasn’t normal at least. He added that to the list as number three. How could he known that Anri was supernatural? Maybe he was a Wren. It wasn’t like there was any physical difference that would give him away as vampire. And yet, he knew Anri was a monster of some sort.

He strained, trying to remember, but events after he was shot were all blurry. Seth catching him in his arms, screaming as the man ran from the alley. The excruciating walk home with Seth’s delicious blood so close to him, black spots over his vision threatening to pull him into his lust.

Rounding the corner, the main door to Kintsugi’s bar came into view. On autopilot, his brain full of half formed theories of what happened that night, Anri let himself inside and locked the door behind him. Warm air, heavy with the scents of cleaning solution and heavy liquor floated around him and he glided through the darkened bar with familiar ease. He reached over the bar and picked up the lift-up counter portion and walked behind the bar. He reached up on the wall, feeling for the lights, and flicked them on.

“Hello, Anri, you darling vampire.”

Yelping, his heart jumped out of his throat and his back slammed painfully against the door handle to the back storeroom. Angelina was there, wearing an absurdly tiny red hat that was probably pinned into her hair, sitting in Seth’s usual seat all the way at the end. She had straight black hair framing her face, cut to her chin, with bangs hiding her forehead. Her hair was perfectly coiffed, not one hair out of place, but it wouldn’t be. It never was. She had always reminded him of a China doll, her face and hair always perfect, the look on her face somehow slightly vacant.

His heart was in his throat and he couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything. She clutched a small matching red bag in her perfectly manicured hands, and she played with the strap, drawing his eyes to her hands and to that bag. Of course she had a handbag to match that silly little hat, was the first cohesive thought he had since she threw his mind into a swirling panic. The second was, how dare she sit in Seth’s seat…

“Fuck.” His brain was too shocked to form any other words. The word broke his paralysis and he moved too quickly, fumbling in his pockets, searching desperately for his phone. “Angelina!” he hissed acidly.

“Anri Rousseau, a pleasure, as always,” she said coolly, nodding her head in his direction. She smiled her normal smile, but her smile was so fake. How had he never noticed that before?

“How! How did you get in? The door was locked!” he tried to yell, but it came out more like a gasp. He looked around for anyone, even though he knew no one else was there. Glaring at Angelina with as much hatred as he could muster, he tried to make his shaking hands pull out the cell phone, but he couldn’t seem to get his fingers wrapped around it in his pants pockets. Focusing on his hatred to hide the fear that was snaking through his belly like a cancer.

“Oh, I have my ways. You should know that a locked door is no obstacle for a witch of my skills. It’s been awhile, vampire. You’re looking… actually, you look really good. Better than I thought you would, you know, after being shot and all. Apparently he’s not a very good shot.” She raised up one perfectly formed eyebrow in consternation. “I thought, well…you must have a good blood source, I suppose.”

Anri tried to play it cool. He slid off his coat, trying hard to hide slipping his cellphone into his hand but his heart beat like a tribal drum and his hands were shaking. Underlying all the fear and panic was a pool of shame at himself for being so afraid of Angelina, and a reservoir of depression that he had somehow already disappointed Seth. Shaking his head, he laid his coat on the back counter without taking his eyes off of Angelina, palming the cell phone.

Adrenaline surged as he tried to act nonchalantly, using the bar as cover to hide his phone. Anri kept the entire length of the bar between them. Trying not to draw Angelina’s attention to his hands, he fumbled with his phone under the bar, attempting to send an emergency text to Simone without looking.

“Why are you here? How did you find me?” he demanded, but even to him his voice sounded watery and weak. She had said something about being shot… “You! It was you! You tried to kill me! You fucking bitch!” Sweat started to run down his back. He needed to get away from Angelina without giving her an opening. He didn’t see many options for escape, though. Right now he was nearly prepared to sell his soul for a distraction. He had to stall until Simone got here. Oh, please, oh please, let Simone come soon, he thought desperately. Let him have actually sent a text without looking.

“Oh, aren’t you brave now. Something is different about you. I mean, you should have still been recovering after your little…accident.” She smiled sweetly. She overly emphasized her words, reminding him of the time when the valley girl sound was a thing. “And it’s been so very hard to get you alone, lately.”

Was she talking about Seth? The thought of her around Seth had him seeing red. “You tried to kill me! What is fucking wrong with you?!” Anri had to keep her talking. Come on, Simone, he begged silently.

“Oh, Anri.” The way she said his name was like ice down his back. “I didn’t try to kill you. First, I’m not stupid enough to ask someone else to murder anyone for me.” She pretended to be insulted, holding her hand in front of her, ticking off one of her fingers. “Second, I need you alive, as you well know.” Another finger went up. “Third, you obviously aren’t dead. If I wanted you dead, would I have sent that idiot? We both know your blood is no good to me cold and gross.”

She looked around the bar. “Nice place you have here. Honestly, it wasn’t that hard to find you. All a girl needs is a little…motivation. And magic, of course.” She wiggled her fingers in the air when she said the word magic, mimicking the way Anri used to tease her when they were together. The actions had his stomach clenching uncomfortably.

His brain was swirling around inside his head and for some reason had focused on the fact that this crazy fucking witch had been his ex-Wren. Was there a term for that? There had to be one, right? He shook his head, trying to focus, trying to find a way to escape.

“You had some stupid asshole shoot me with a crossbow! In most people’s opinions that might seem a little murder-y,” he snarled. He needed to calm down, needed to focus on escaping, but his heart seemed to be attempting to crawl out of his throat.

“We both know that wasn’t going to kill you. Jacob shot you with a spelled bolt in a non-lethal area. He did what he was supposed to, at least as far as shooting, he told me. Also, it’s a compound bow, as he has felt the need to tell me about a million times, not a crossbow. Apparently there’s a difference.” She rolled her eyes at him, the perfect impression of a true Valley Girl. “What do you think, it’s medieval times? We use compound bows now, like proper vampire hunters. Anyway,” she said, waving her hand, the one not holding onto the tiny red clutch purse, “He said you were with someone. Really, an amature. He should have waited until you were alone. It’s so hard to find good help.”

“I’m sure,” Anri agreed sarcastically. His whole body itched with the desire to run away, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He had no idea what she wanted but knew better than to turn his back or try to run away from a witch. She was like a wolf, she would jump on his back the minute he turned, sinking her claws and fangs into him mercilessly.

“Well, whatever,” she dismissed with a wave of her her hand, the one holding the red clutch, in front of her, “he was supposed to shoot you with the ensorceled arrow, which should have incapacitated you, which it obviously didn’t do.” She frowned, puckering up her thin lips. “Something really is different about you. I can’t put my finger on it.”

Anri felt his phone vibrate in his hand but was terrified to look at it. Please, please, please let it be Simone and not just an email notification, he begged silently. Please. He had to play it cool. He couldn’t let Angelina know how afraid of her he was.

“Must be my new fucking haircut,” he said, trying to shrug noncommittally.

“I did miss your vulgar snarkiness. But, I miss your blood more. Magic is so much easier to do with vampire blood. And, well, I need yours especially,” she said, overemphasizing her words. She frowned again, making her face look cold. There was a time when Anri found her pretty, but now her beauty seemed too symmetrical. Her face was a perfect emotionless mask. Anri wondered briefly if he had ever really known the real Angelina, and if she changed her looks with magic. Was that even possible? He really didn’t understand magic at all, not even after being with a witch for half a year.

“What is different…” she said thoughtfully, tapping her lips with one red manicured finger. “It’s going to bother me until I figure it out. Anyway,” she said, shaking her head, “I think it’s time we got going. Don’t you, Jacob?” She looked over at the door to the back stockroom behind Anri expectantly. After nothing happened for a moment, Anri looked too.

She coughed into her hand politely then said louder, “Right, Jacob?” Still nothing happened. “Jesus H…for the love of all…JACOB!!!”

There was a bumping sound, then the distinct crystalline sound of breaking glass and Anri cringed. That would be coming out of his pay. Fuck, what was he thinking? He should have used this time to try to get closer to the hallway back to the restaurant at least, if not the door to the shop. There were more sounds of chaos and destruction from the storeroom as Anri tried to slowly back away from the bar. Anri had made it as far as the other side of the liftable bar when the door flew open and slammed into the side counter with a bang. Cloak Guy stood on the other side, still wearing a cloak and wielding a bow. The door’s momentum slammed it closed right in his face.

“Arrrgg!” Angelina growled. “Minions! Forget him.” She moved quickly, catching Anri as he was slowly creeping his way down the bar. “Anri!” she shouted in his face. “I wanted to do this the nice way but you two have left me no choice. Just remember this, you stupid vampire. You made me do it this way.”

Angrily she pushed away from him, wiping her hands on her black skirt as if he were dirty as she took two steps back. He almost turned and ran, but before he could, she thrust her small red clutch purse out in front of her so that the opening was facing him, though it was still clasped shut. Grimacing, she sighed heavily. “I just don’t get why everyone has to make this so hard.”

He tried to move but It felt like he was sinking in sludge. Cloak Guy finally got the door open and burst out, puffing with exertion. He must have cut himself on some of the glass, Anri could smell his blood in the air. It smelled tangy and sour, completely unappetizing. Clumsily, Cloak Guy ran up to bar, ready to attempt his apprehension of Anri. When his eyes stopped on Angelina’s little clutch, his face turned ashen and he ran back to the closet.

Angelina’s clutch purse was thrust at him, the  simple golden clasp facing him. The clasp was the old fashioned metal kind with prongs that twisted around each other. Time gelled heavily, moving thickly. She flicked the clasps apart with her fingers and held the bag horizontal to the floor, facing Anri, pulling back the metal bars along the lip of the clutch so that it was wide open. She grunted with the obvious effort she put into opening the clutch, as if it were a heavy metal door and not just a little purse.

Slowly, slowly, slowly the bag opened. Then it opened some more, the inside of the bag an incredible black void of nothingness. Reality shifted as the bag opened, that deep blackness pooling and pouring out of it like molasses. A fog of wrongness swirled out of her bag and puddled around her feet. Despite the impossibility of it, the bag continued to open, growing larger than the tiny little handbag behind the opening. Angelina was sweating now as she strained to pull the little metal clasps further apart.

The tiny little fingers that pushed out of the void sent Anri’s stomach to his feet. At least, they looked like fingers, though they were too small and each had a sharp looking nail. There were too many hands. Two sets of hands were on the top and bottom of the clasps, making four hands total. They seemed to unfold, curling around the metal bar, pulling something with them out of the void. Anri’s mind struggled to identify what was pulling itself out of the bag. Fog swirled and obscured his view. It seemed to absorb lights, too, the whole room growing dimmer by the moment.

There were clicking sounds as the thing fell to the floor. Cloak Guy was peeking from a crack in the storeroom door. As soon as the thing was fully out of the purse-portal Angelina clicked it shut with an exhausted sigh. She casually wiped the sweat off of her face and tucked an errant hair back into place.

“Anri,” she said thinly, “You never got to meet my last project. The one we worked on together, if you know what I mean.” Her heartless smile kicked Anri back into reality.

“I’d like you to meet, well, I guess I never named it. We can call it Fido or something, I don’t care. You can name it.”

Anri backed away from the thing. It looked like…well, it was kind of hard to decide. Anri’s mind went through every D&D Monster Manual he ever had, trying to identify the creature and failing.

If someone had taken a black panther and a black widow and mushed them together, that might be a start to explaining what the creature was. Its body was sleek and feline, covered in short black hair swirled haphazardly with red spirals. Anri’s mind screamed spider, it had so many legs, too many legs. The legs, sleek and smooth and covered in fur like the rest of the body ended with small three fingered…sort-of baby hands? The creature’s head had feline features, but flattened and squashed in, with too many eyes. Too many feline eyes, golden irises with slits, were all focused on Anri. It’s incredibly normal looking cat ears twitched, and the furthest back set of legs began to tap audibly against the floor. The creature swished it’s long, oh fuck, was that it’s tail?

When the creature began to make a weird clicking and clattering sound, not unlike the shaking of coffee beans in a can, Anri’s brain shut down and his instincts took over.

The Spider-cat demon thing twitched, it’s whole body trembling in anticipation. Anri turned and ran as fast as he could towards the door, despite the voice in the back of his head yelling at him as if he were watching a horror movie. “No! Don’t run! Throw something at it! Don’t turn your back on it!”

Anri’s feet were yanked out from under him and he stopped the fall to the floor with his face. The spider-cat demon’s three fingered baby hands wrapped around both of his feet, sending a tremor of revulsion through his body. He kicked at them instinctively, trying to crawl away. The baby hands had a soft, yet firm grip on his skin and his whole body felt violated and wrong. At least he no longer felt his fear, now all he wanted to do was get this horrible thing off of him.

He kicked hard at the hand but the spider-cat demon was quick and pulled back so that he only kicked his other ankle. The creature’s grinding noise grew louder and Anri knew the creature was enjoying itself. It was mocking him, purring or something, but it was pleased. He could feel it’s pleasure. He turned over, afraid to show the creature his back again, and tried to scoot across the floor, not caring where he was going as long as it was away from it.

It stared at him for a moment, all of those eyes looking deep into his. Intelligent eyes. The spider-cat demon’s face shifted into an uncanny cheshire cat smile, lips and whiskers extending impossibly past the sides of its face. Anri scooted back more vigorously and he slammed his back against one of the lounge chairs, nearly knocking the air out of his lungs. Somehow the smile got even bigger, creeping him out thoroughly. This creature was a nightmare.

There was a moment where no one moved and the only sounds were Anri’s ragged breath and the Spider-cat’s horrible purring. Time shattered as the creature twitched again, then impossibly fast, pounced onto his body. Too many little baby hands grabbed at him, hands everywhere, on his arms and neck, on his legs, pinning down his hands and feet. One baby-handed leg pressed his head roughly to the floor, holding it down effortlessly. The creature held itself above him, all black satin and swirling crimson spirals. The Spider-cat demon lowered it’s face to Anri’s. He tried to turn but couldn’t, not with its baby hand on his head. The thing was incredibly strong yet lightweight. It’s breath was warm and wet on his cheeks and smelled surreally of canned cat food.

Anri heard screaming. The creature was smelling his face, too close, too close, too close. More screaming, then dry screams, barely audible but painful. The screams hurt. The cheshire grin spread and the creature’s mouth opened. He struggled in vain as the creature licked his face in a long, raspy, cat food-flavored stroke.

Anri heard talking. He couldn’t understand it. He couldn’t understand anything other than the weight of this creature. The creature did nothing else, just stared into his eyes with its own intelligent sets of feline eyes. They lined its face like a cat’s stripes, and he could now see it had eight eyes, two main eyes where a cat’s eyes would normally be, then three more along the ridge above the eyes on either side.

A moment passed. Another. Someone was still talking but it all sounded like a TV had been left on in another room. The weight of the creature settled on him and he stopped screaming. His throat burned, his lungs burned and he was panting and gasping from screaming. Someone was at the side of his head but he couldn’t look away from the creature. He felt the Spider-cat demon ease back and felt the pressure release from his head just before he felt the metal chain slip around his throat. Angelina held the other end of the chain. Somewhere in his mind a distant thought floated, recognizing the chain as a choke-chain dog collar.

Anri moaned. The creature licked his face again. “Aww, Anri,” Angelina said sweetly as she yanked the chain hard, pulling it agonizingly tight around his neck. He was forced to shift closer to her, although the creature still immobilized his arms and legs. “I think it likes you!”

Anri’s stomach turned over and he began to dry heave. Angelina wrapped the chain around her delicate wrist and opened the small clutch purse. “In you go!” she said sweetly to the spider-cat demon.

The demon looked at her, then returned its attention back to Anri. “No, you stupid thing, back in the bag! You did your job.” It continued to ignore her, all of its attention on him. She grunted in frustration. “Why does everyone have to make this so difficult!”

Angrily she thrust the opening of the red clutch in the direction of the demon. Anri noticed in the back of his mind that it was normal sized again. He could see the designer logoed lining where the deep black void had once been. With one of its legs, the creature flicked the clutch from her hand. It sailed over the bar and almost hit Cloak Guy Jacob as he slunk out of the storeroom. He ducked under the bar at the last minute with a squeak.

“You stupid demon thing, we can’t go outside with you! It’s the middle of the day. Get back in the bag! Don’t make me hurt you, too,” she hissed at the creature threateningly.

The cat-demon growled menacingly, low and deep in the back of its throat. Angelina seemed hesitant to actually touch the creature. He definitely shared that sentiment. She stood up and yanked the collar attached to his throat, choking him. She ignored the demon’s disobedience and tugged hard at the leash, half dragging him out from under the demon. The cat-demon hissed angrily at Angelina, jumping up onto a nearby table as Anri choked, futility struggling with the collar, his fingers unable to relieve the pressure around his neck.

Angelina snorted. “Jacob! Do your damned job and get the car. Back it up to the door and pop the trunk. We’re leaving.”

Jacob came out hesitantly from behind the bar. He made his way around the room, hugging the wall the entire time, his eyes never leaving the Spider-cat demon. He pushed his way out of the door, a slice of brilliant sunlight sneaking in as he broke into a panicky run.

Angelina glared at the demon, which had perched itself on one of the small floor tables. It’s tail, or what Anri was considering its tail, twitched in agitation. It kind of looked like a cat’s tail, if a cat’s tail ended with a barbed scorpion stinger.

“You too, you infernal creature. You can go in the trunk with him. I don’t care,” she threatened the creature with a sneer. It growled low in it’s throat but didn’t move from the table.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Anri moaned. He didn’t even recognize his own voice it was so raspy.

Angelina’s laugh was full of malice. “Shut up, Anri! You always were such a wimp. If you hadn’t run away before, this would have been over back then. Really, this really is all your fault, if you think about it. All your fault. This…thing was only supposed to be an offering for a much larger demon. It was just supposed to be a dry run for the main event.” She half dragged him across the room by his neck. His fingers were pinched under the choke collar but he still couldn’t make enough room to get a full breath. She peeked out, looking for the car.

The spider-cat demon appeared on the table nearest to Anri seemingly out of nowhere. It was becoming more difficult to breath and his vision was fuzzy, filling with black spots. The Spider-cat demon smiled that disturbing cheshire grin at him from the table. Was it smaller than before? Anri couldn’t tell. His brain wasn’t working right.

“All your fault, Anri,” she continued casually, as if there wasn’t an angry Spider-cat demon thing right there on the table. Anri flashed back to her monologues when he was locked in her basement, the long, one-sided conversations she would have while he bled into her silver mixing bowl. His body began to shiver more strongly than simple trembling. “Sometimes…sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who really gets it, you know?” She jerked the leash again for no reason, maybe just to prove she was in charge. “I tried to finish summoning a Duke but…you were gone. You left.”

I didn’t leave, I escaped, he thought hazily. She continued her monologue, talking to herself more than him. “I needed your stupid vampire blood. I have to call them in succession. You can’t change hosts halfway through, it doesn’t work if you do. This…thing,” she spat, glaring at the Spider-cat demon, “This thing was the last succession before I could call a Duke. After you…left..I found someone else to bleed for the ceremony.”

Anri moaned, gasping like a fish for breath. His lungs burned and large black spots blossomed across his vision as he fought, trying futilely to pull the chain from around his neck.

“Don’t bother you pathetic vampire,” she snapped at him as if he were a misbehaving child. “You know it’s spelled. Only I can take it off. Anyway, like I was saying, you need to use the same blood for all the successions. I didn’t think it would matter, but, guess what? It does. I need your blood, Anri. The last summoning…didn’t go exactly as planned.” Her voice raised up an octave on the word exactly. She cracked the door open again, looking out distractedly. “Come on, let’s go,” she said curtly, tugging his choker.

The spider-cat demon was definitely smaller, Anri decided. It was now the size of a large house cat. At this size, it really wasn’t nearly as menacing, but it was still incredibly disturbing, with too many eyes and legs. And that over sized cheshire grin.

A tremor ran through him as Angelina pushed the door open cautiously, then yanked mercilessly on the chain. A pained, choking gasp escaped from him as he was forced crawled on his hands and knees after her. The spider-cat demon slinked past them both, one of its baby hands brushed over him as it moved past them, sending chills through his core.

Bright sunlight blinded and he fell to the pavement, his oxygen starved body collapsing.  Angelina swore, and then he felt rough hands pick him up under his arms and roughly toss him into the trunk, first his top half, then his legs, as if he were too awkward to lift out all at once.

Once he was in the trunk he felt the collar loose up enough to let him breath. He sucked in a deep breath, but instead of relieving the pain in his lungs, it had him cough violently. Instinctively he rolled to the back of the trunk, away from the creature, the hands, away from the sunlight. He felt, more than saw, the spider-cat demon jump up into the trunk with him. It curled up against his back and started to purr. At least, he hoped it was purring. There was a keening, something pathetic, and his mind registered that it was him making the noise. His world turned to darkness as the trunk slammed shut.

Chapter 14: Ignorance and Innocence Part 2

Chapter 16: Emergency Road Trip