Flesh of the Father
Part One:
She tried to rearrange her face from the sour, sullen scowl that caused her lips to purse and her eyes to narrow. With each step towards the attic, she managed a bit more until as she reached the top, she almost had managed to achieve annoyed but fairly pleasant. As she expected, Gramma was bent over the stove, gently stirring something that was not the color of anything natural.
“Gramma,” she chirped, finally able to smile tightly. “I just talked to the Professor.”
“Lord child, what’d he have annoy us with now?”
“I called him.”
“Whatever for?”
“I figured he’d be helpful or at least useful with that woman looking for the Al-Qaeda that was in Midnight’s basement. You know that one that I told ya about. That those Yankees found.”
“The one with the wizard?” Willie Mae asked, pushing a strand of hair from her eyes. Her gaze had sharpened and she turned down the heat to give Zadie more attention.
“Yeah. What are you cooking? Looks horrible.”
“Love potion. Don’t get near it with that sour puss. You’ll ruin the batch.”
Zadie snorted. “More than like,’ she admitted. “I ain’t gonna be good for no happy spells until I can get the Professor outta my head.”
“Well, tell me what the old grouch had to say. I ain’t got all night.” Her brow furrowed. “You sure it’s him, Zadie?”
“Well, after berating me for being a waste of time and not reading what he sent and grumbling that I was as dumb as a rock and other such endearments, he kinda admitted a bit of interest. If we can get her, which he’s certain we can’t. But it’s him. No question.”
“But how? He was plum tore up, Zadie. I saw it and you sawit. He can’t be back.”
“Asked that too. Hegave me a synopsis of the process to put a vampire back together and then told me to read up on it cus’ I was too stupid to learn it over the phone.”
“And you believed him? That it is the Professor and that what he told you is true.”
Zadie blinked. “He said I’d read faster if I’d learn to read without moving my lips,” sheadmitted, her voice flat.
Gramma pursed her lips and nodded. “Well then, the old cuss is back. I take it that you did read up on what he said?”
Her granddaughter had walked to the large iron cauldron to peer at the body parts inside. They hadn’t managed to figure out what to do with the Gangrel and the parts were beginning to show signs of decay. “Yeah.” Taking a step to one side, she leaned over to gauge the amount of blood in the rain barrel. “Momma’s been busy.”
“Addie is good at her job, young’un. What’re poking around that mess for? We gonna have to either throw that man out or feed him to Fluffy. Unless you figured out somethin’, he’s gonna rot before we can do anythin' useful with him. Heck, scoop him back up into that bag and dump him out for the gargoyle.”
Zadie cocked her head, finally smiling. “Well I got a plan Gramma.”
Willie Mae raised an eyebrow and went back to her potion. “Do tell?”
“Ya keep bugging me to seduce that damn Mr Cord.”
“Course I do. He took down two Princes in one night, child. We need that on our side. Not that I begrudge Caroline, but honey, ain’t nobody gonna mess with her now that Evangeline is in power. She don’t need that dog. You just let your mama dress you when he comes around and he’ll come around.”
Zadie repressed a shudder, sticking out her tongue. “Dammit all Gramma, he ain’t interested in no flesh that I can show him,” she snapped. As her Gramma’s blue eyes shot to hers, irritated to be contradicted, she inclined her head at the cauldron. “He wants that flesh. That’s Boone.”
Willie sniffed, her nose high. “I know that, Zadie.”
“The Professor is old and bathing in blood and knitting himself back together. Boone can maybe do that too.” She bit her wrist and dripped a bit of blood onto the body parts in the iron pot, watching it shrewdly. The blood disappeared into the pale flesh, sucked from within. Satisfied, Zadie gave her grandmother a twisted smile. “Boone’d owe us big,” she stated softly as her grandmother came over to look into the pot. “Help me pour the blood in the barrel into the pot. From what I read,the parts have to be covered.”
Her gramma shook her head. “The Professor’s right; sometimes you ain’t got the sense God gave you. Dump the parts into the barrel. He’ll be crowded, but it’ll be easier on us.” Picking up an arm, she tossed it into the rain barrel. “You finish; I got the love potion to fix.”
Zadie made quick work moving the parts and poked at them gently with the paddle they used to stir the huge cauldron outside. “Ain’t enough blood, gramma.” She bled a bit more into the barrel and then gently emptied out six doorknobs. “You add some. I don’t wanna deplete the doorknobs.”
“Pshaw, wait for your mamma. I need all of mine. Why doncha call your boys?”
“I already took from Rooster and Shane tonight. And I don’t want Robert’s daddy to go off and get suspicious. He is the preacher’s boy. Big Allen is outside, keeping watch and I want him at strength.” She sucked air through her teeth and took out two more doorknobs. “Guess I’ll drop a generation or two and go to the bar right quick. Mama will be out with D’ub until dangerously close to morning. They ain’t been in early since Mama got changed.”
“Grill’s close to letting out. You better git the ritual done quick,” Willie Mae said absently, beginning to decant the potion. Its color had gone to a soft pink, swirling gently in the bottles that she poured the solution in. Musk and roses, sex and promise, it would be made into soap and eau-de–parfum as well as scent sachets. Gramma knew her spells; it was one of the ingredients of their best selling products.
“Yessim,” Zadie said, falling into a comfy chair and starting the ritual. Minutes later, she was out the door, leaving two empty doorknobs behind.
Gramma would be scandalized, but even with the bounty at the bar, she found that she had to top off as she walked home, peeking through some of the neighbors windows to draw the precious fluids from them. She had been lucky enough not to draw to much from any of them, but Mrs Wilkensen would feel really woozy and bad for the next day. Zadie jumped up onto the back porch and opened the door to go inside the Rose.
Mrs. Wilkensen and her daughter had always been snotty bitches anyway, Zadie thought with a smile and went inside, her inside burbling gently. Got a few drunks by accident, darnit. But 2ish at a bar, what’d I expect? I’ll feel like crap tomorrow. But it’ll be worth it, I hope. She shut the door and mounted the back stairs that led directly to the attic from the old kitchen. Boone might not be as grateful when he woke up as she hoped. She’d also have to let Mr Cord know what was happening. She’d wait until she could show him something good. If nothing happened, then Fluffy would have a good meal. And that crazy son of a bitch Cord could just stay pissed at her.
Part Two:
"Mr. Cord, this is the fuck up. You know. . . Zadie? Give me a call. I may have something that interests you."
Zadie pressed the off button on her phone, making a face. Gramma would not approve of her message, but she still couldn't find it inside her to get much warmth for the Gangrel. He was everything she hoped not to be. She slid the phone into her jeans pocket and her lips twisted in a wry smile. Maybe that wasn't totally true. He had pretty much told Caroline to consider him her loyal friend. Inasmuch as you could take that to the bank. But he was a wolf. She could admire that dedication to her cousin.
Zadie knew for a fact that that loyalty sure as hell didn't extend to her.
She rearranged the phone position in her pocket for more comfort. Her jeans were a smidge tight for carrying things, perfect for the job at hand as far as Gramma was concerned, not tight enough by far according to hermother. Zadie was still convinced that the only thing that she could tempt Cord with was the blood in her body, not her body itself, but she would humor Gramma. The Calhoun women were all lookers and even to Gramma, there wasn't nothing that you couldn't get from a man, vampire or not, with a pair of killer legs and an even better set of boobs. Going down to the porch, she settled herself on the porch swing, fished out her phone again, and curled up to read up on the latest crap that the Professor had sent.
"Last time I saw him, his durn arms were ripped off," Gramma had grumbled as Zadie had remarked that the Professor had sent more reading material and instructions for them. "How in the name of all that's holy is he sending this mess?"
Zadie had smiled wickedly, hitting the print button on the computer to make hardcopies for Gramma to read. "He using his tongue to type," she retorted. "If I'm setting up to be eaten by a wolf, you oughta go court the Professor. Can't argue with a man who can type with his tongue."
The look she had gotten was priceless. Zadie giggled a little remembering and then snuggled into the swing cushions to wait for the Gangrel to call her back.
Cord hated the phone. Unlike many of his pack, he didn't have a problem with machines in general. And he didn't have anything against technology or modern society. He didn't want to be one of them Ventrue that constantly looked like they were headed to a costume party because they couldn't get their head out of their ass long enough to join the 21st century. But that didn't mean he had to like the phone. You couldn't get any of the smells or the way the person moved. So when he got the message from Zadie, he thought about calling her back. But only for a second. Instead, he pulled his hog out of the garage and hopped on, revving the engine before driving out of the junkyard in a cloud of dirt and dust.
On the ride over to her place, he thought about what she might have that would interest him. He couldn't think of anything, but it didn't mean she was wrong. Zadie wasn't completely incompetent, just young and stupid. Although, Cord thought, he couldn't remember being that stupid when he was her age. He shrugged at the empty road and increased his speed, letting thoughts vanish into the wind whipping around him.
When he pulled up to the Cabbage Rose, he saw her sitting on the porch swing, looking up at him from something she was reading. She didn't seem too happy to see him. Maybe she expected him to call first. Too bad. We don't get everything we want in life.
As she stood up off the porch swing and walked his way, Cord slowly moved his eyes up and down that hot body of hers. Zadie had called herself a fuck up. Well, she was certainly dressed for that, he thought. Minus the up.
"Out for a hot night on the town, girl? Find yourself a sweet young thing and screw him until his dick falls off?"
She heard him before she saw him, the bike roaring up with a smooth, rhythmic purr that she could do nothing more than appreciate. Her brow met as she watched him climb off, looking as comfortable as if he owned the place. She edged out of the swing to go meet him, sliding the phone back into her pocket. He was so Mama's type. Lean, wolfish, every vehicle that he rode in or on rumbling with that well-loved purr that inferred that he might love your body the same way. She wrinkled her nose with that thought, stepping through the wards to bring him back through.
Durn her to heck if she found him appealing. And his words to her as she walked up solidified that repulsion. Her eyebrows rose as she put her hands on her hips to glare at him.
"No," she snapped and then swallowed. Gramma had said honey. Court him with honey, honeychile. Zadie twitched her nose with irritation. Lord but he did make her skin crawl. She repressed a shudder and held out her hand, bracing for his touch. "C'mon with your bad self and hold my hand. It won't be pretty otherwise."
"You're a tight squeeze. I'm sure you can get any number of boys to fuck you silly. Maybe couple at once if you like that kind of thing." Cord reached forward and grabbed her hand. "So? What you got for me, girl? Or is this one of things I gotta see to believe?"
She could only stare, caught like a deer in the headlights. Finally the white noise in her head stopped roaring as the wave of her temper crested and fell. The orgasmic thought of him exploding in flames as she let go of his hand in the ward line danced temptingly through her mind's eye and she watched it fade sadly before looking at Cord. "Yeah, the fucking is for later this evening," she snapped. "Yep, me and the biker gang. But for warm-up, I want to fuck with your head. C'mon." She took his hand with a grim smile and walked him through the lines.
And to her credit, she didn't let go. She sure as hell thought al ot about it tho'. And she let go of him like he were fire once she got him through and fought the need to rub her hands on her pants. But as Zadie led him to the back of the house to the old kitchen, she patted herself on the head for her strength of will. I am all that and a bag of chips, she thought and grinned knowing what waited for him upstairs. Take that damn cock sure smile off his face for sure. She grinned and waved him up the short steps to the kitchen door.
"Go in and up the back stairs. The show is waiting." She stood back and waited for him to enter the house.
The girl had a temper, that was for sure. Simple suggestion about having a good time and she almost took his head off. Her loss. Cord wandered up the back steps towards the attic of the Rose, his hackles slightly on edge. Something didn't feel right about the whole damn thing. But hell if he'd let two fuckintremere intimidate him.
The attic was set up as a kitchen of sorts. Plates of cookies on a carved oak table in the center. China cabinet and an oven, but also test tubes and beakers all over the place. Cord didn't know what to make of the place. It was like his momma's kitchen, if his momma had been fucking Dr. Frankenstein. And speaking of Dr. Frankenstein, he thought as he looked over at Gramma Willie stirring a nice cauldron sitting overtop a propane burner.
"Miss Willie," Cord said politely as he nodded in her direction. "Your granddaughter took some time before going out on her date with the biker gang tonight to let me know there was something I was supposed to be seeing. So I'm here to see it." Of course the elderly Tremere knew why he was here. But if she wanted to let Zadie handle it, fine by Cord. He wouldn't want to deprive the girl a chance to do something right. Happened so rarely, he figured.
Willie just smiled warmly, ignoring the strangled noise that came from her granddaughter as she strode forward to greet their guest. "Welcome, Mr Cord," she said, taking his hands in hers for amoment. She tilted her head coquettishly as she let him go. "I'm a mess. So's my kitchen. Please forgive me." Her blue eyes went to his. "Can I serve you something for refreshment? Zadie! Get the man a cup of vitae before you show him that mess."
Zadie looked back at her from where she had gone to remove the lid from the rain barrel. The gentle slosh let her know that things were going fine. Or not. She shrugged, moving to go fetch some blood and a cup. "Yes ma'am."
He glanced over at the rain barrel while waiting for his blood. Seemed like they wanted to show him one of their messed up experiments. Maybe they were working on turning that Tremere from the town over into a gargoyle or something. Seemed kind of cannibalistic to him, but what he did know?
When Zadie brought him the blood, he downed the cup in one swift motion and handed the cup back to her. As she turned around, he gave her a good slap on the ass. "Zadie's got a nice ass, Miss Willie. Imagine she gets that from you."
Cord didn't want to fuck Zadie, but hell if he didn't enjoy fucking with her.
Zadie froze, her head lowering like a dog about to attack. Her breath sucked in her teeth as she turned to smile tightly at Gramma Willie whose eyes had narrowed in the tiniest fraction. "Daddy says that all the Calhoun women are built like brick houses, doesn't he Gramma?" she said in a bright, cheerful voice as brittle as ice.
Willie nodded, her blue eyes frosty although she smiled minxishly. "Yes, honey. Your Granddaddy said that also, although he said it was the Devereux side. Caroline gets her looks from her grandmothertoo." She turned to take the cookies out of the oven, not noticing that she forgot to use mitts. "I like to say that my daughter and granddaughter are quite pretty, Mr Cord," she continued, slipping cookies onto a plate. "I am honored that you appreciate the physical gifts that I have been able to pass down to them." She finished with the sheet and re-greased it with butter for the next batch and loaded it and put the next group into the oven before she again turned to the Gangrel. Neither had moved and Zadie was not doing a good job at all of covering her fury. Gramma gave her a warning look and the girl breathed out a most unladylike snort.
Willie sighed softly. Child still didn't understand. Got that Irish temper from her Granddaddy. Didn't understand the French elegance that Willie and Cecile's own mother had instilled into her daughters. That well-bred women got what they wanted with style and grace, society's approval, and with patience, not bawdy bar brawls and threats and making scenes that every person in Natchez and beyond would talk about for years. If John Calhoun hadn't been so damned charming and handsome. A fleeting smile went across her perfect lips. He had been a fine, fine man. But he had introduced piss and vinegar into her bloodline. Zadie was too smart for her own good and that temper was gonna be her downfall. She didn't want to even think about her daughter Addie. That was another problem left in another box.
"Zadie, you need to show Mr Cord your project," she announced with a pleasant smile, wiping her hands on her apron. "Y'all watching me like I was something to watch is making me all nervous. It's just cookies and I'm far too old for making pleasant viewing for a man. Girl, put that cup into the sink and show him what's in that barrel. Mr. Cord doesn't have all night to be wasting with us." She favored the Gangrel with a wink. "She's right proud of herself."
"I imagine she is," he said in a slow drawl. Judging by howthe girl was reacting, Cord had pushed about as far as he was going to get away with. But he had found where his boundary line was...how far he could chase before she was cornered and turned around with her teeth bared.
He turned around and walked to the barrel that Gramma Willie had referred to. "So, the waiting is just about to tear me up inside. What you got in this cask, Zadie?"
She pulled the cover off with a flourish and a grin. "You want him?" she asked as Boone's eye rolled up to look at them. Amused, she bit her lip and nudged the barrel to make his head bobble. It had only partially attached so it still bobbed nicely when she poked it. Except that time that it tried to bite her. Zadie studied the barrel and then frowned before fetching some more blood. He wasn't covered enough for her tastes, but Mamma was gonna have to bring someone in to replenish their stocks in the next few days. Boone was using it up fast. But his legs were almost whole and his torso was looking good.
"The fuck?!" Cord growled as he stared at Boone's eye...and head. "Why in the fiery pits of hell do you have Boone in a rainbarrel?" He turned and stared at the teenager. There must be a good explanation for it; otherwise she wouldn't have been stupid enough to get within the reach of his claws. He'd just wait to hear whatever that explanation was.
Despite her bravado, Zadie cringed inwardly as the Gangrel stared at her. His hands, no, she corrected, clawed paws were flexing. She was pretty sure that he didn't even know that he had begun to change. But damn if she wasn't aware. She sidled a bit to put the barrel between them. Frenzy, she could take. Get some blood in him, he'd come back. But not frenzied, just really aware and pissed all to hell, well that was another barrel of monkeys. She glanced at Boone. Son of a bitch was smiling, no question. She scowled at him and looked Cord in the eye.
"I was picking up pieces to maybe use. . .to practice with. He was a bunch of those pieces. Let's just say that I learned that with the judicious application of blood, care, and time, I found out that he wasn't most sincerely dead, just only merely dead." She stared backat him, waiting to see if he smiled with her Oz reference. Probably wouldn't. She was dead meat. Hopefully, the Professor would put her and Gramma in a barrel and then great-Grandpa would make a gargoyle outta them.
Gonna be hard to graduate college, grad school and all as a gargoyle, came the stupid thought and she sighed. Life sucked. Of course, she wasn't looking at Gramma in a rain barrel. It could be sucking worse. Feeling a bit sympathetic with the Gangrel, she set her courage in place and pulled a pleasant smile out of her butt. "So," she asked, her voice gentler than even she had planned, “you want him back? I understand it might put a kink in your plans, but. .." She shrugged. "You don't have'ta say yes. We can make use of him."
Eep! her mind yelped as her words hit her ears Boone can probably hear that you just said you'd be just as happy to part him out as give him back. And now Boone will kill you if you let him keep mending. Awesome, just awesome! You just can't do anything but dig yerrself deeper and deeper. Her eyes went to Gramma Willie but the older woman was just watching, silent and calm. Dammit! The woman could go from flustered to flirty to Sphinx-like in no time flat. Her eyes went to Cord again. Maybe he'd make it quick.
Make use of him,like she kept offering to make use of him? Damn Tremere gargoyles, Cord thought. Hell if he was going to let Boone get used up by a snotty teenager. As far as being a kink in his plans? He didn't have noplans except making sure Viking didn't get the whole damn clan dead. He'd much prefer Boone be in charge, although it would be hard to be in charge from inside a fucking rain barrel." "If I take him and keeps the blood flowing, he'll revive?" he asked, a deep growl in his voice.
"Yeah." Zadie shrugged, relaxing a little. He was talking, not ripping her to shreds. That was good. "From what I understand, he'll come on back together."
"Well, since I never heard Boone saying he was in a hurry to see Satan or Jesus, then I'll take your offer. What's the cost?" He stepped a little closer into her presence. Cord didn't want to corner her, but a little fear might lower his price. And there was always a price to be paid.
Her nostrils flared as Zadie realized that the Gangrel was willing to barter and nodded, her lips pressed together as she studied him. "No cost now. Just know that there will be a favor in the future. And have Gramma's and my back, protect us. You and Boone." She glanced down into the barrel. "You swear for both of ya. Binding." Her blue eyes met his, shrewd and bold. "Tremere ain't got no friends. Gramma and I want to change that a little. We plan to stay here and we're gonna need help. Just remember that we offered him back in good faith. We ain't done no voodooon him. Just used a lot of our stocks to feed him and let him heal." She held out a hand and girded her courage to not make a face when his hand touched hers. If he shook on it. "Deal?"
"That favor can't lead to making the pack extinct. Danger's one thing. We ain't afraid of danger, but we won't do no favor that leads to our end. And I can't speak for Boone because he ain't me and I ain't him. But I offer you my word and I offer my bond." He spit blood into his hand, the huge red globule glistening in the light of the attic. "You shake with mine, I'll drink yours." He hated the idea of being bonded to the girl at any level but love and hate didn't have nothing to do with it. Loyalty to his own meant he had to sacrifice for the one who couldn't speak for himself.
Her lips parted slightly and her face just for moment, the tiniest flash, was that of a healthy, human nineteen year old girl. Ewwwwwwww! screamed her mind and she had to force the confident smile that led to her slapping her hand into his and shaking vigorously. "Done." She could sympathize with him. Gramma was her pack and she wasn't exactly down with the extinct thing either. That was why Cotton was in Oxford in pieces, not Natchez in charge.
Nicking her wrist deftly with a fingernail, she held it up for him to drink. "Your turn Cord."
He grabbed Zadie's wrist firmly and pulled it to his mouth, letting the hot coppery taste fill his mouth, biting at the nick, making sure she felt a little pain to go with what he was sure she was going to cause him. Then he licked up her wrist and across her palm, just to piss her off. As he let her have his hand back, he looked at her with a smirk on his face, the irritation he normally experienced with her already growing more intense. "Seems two women have me collared now." He shrugged. If bitches were going to put a leash on him, then the least he could do was be the one to put his neck through the loop.
"You offered Boone back in good faith, I offered my bond in the same. We'd both do good to remember that."
"Yessir," she affirmed through narrowed eyes. She hadn't moved as he had licked her palm, hadn't twitched a muscle. But as her gaze lit on her grandmother's china blue eyes, she noted the nod of the older woman and smiled tightly. "Got a mighty fine set of lips on you," she noted, rubbing her wrist with her thumb. And teeth, she added silently. "Might have to change off my biker gang and see if I can shark a ride with you on your bike."
She tried to smile a bit more coquettishly, but the flirt wasn't there like with her Gramma. Lawd, but she wanted to go wash her hands. Cord was nice enough, she guessed. Handled the whole thing with better grace than she would have, but. . .argh! Creepy, creepy, creepy crawlies all over her at his touch. She inhaled for peace of mind, letting the air hiss through her teeth before sucking at her teeth absently. "Guess you're gonna need to get a truck to haul him. Or you could trust that Gramma and I will keep him healing." She pulled the cover back over the barrel, peeking at him just one more time.
"You're gonna wake up Mr Boone and I'll appreciate your consideration and your attention to the deal that was just made," she told the body before snapping the lid down. Smiling awkwardly, she shrugged at Cord. "What's the plan?"
"I just drank off you. Trusting you to keep Boone healing ain't no big thing compared to that. Besides, bond or not, I got no problems about burning this place to the ground if you go south on the deal." He could feel himself twinge at the thought, but he knew he could overcome that if it should become necessary. And the edges of Cord's mouth moved up into a half smile that did nothing to remove the creepy feeling from Zadie's skin.
He moved towards the stairs and started to head down. A couple steps down, he turned back towards the women. "And girl, you don't have to pretend you like me. I ain't no stranger to being hated. You might want to get used to that feeling, you know," he said matter-of-factly. "Use it, let it power you. Because your list of people that despise you ain't ever going to grow smaller." And he turned back around, his footsteps a loud echo ashe departed the mad scientist attic of the Cabbage Rose.
Her mouth fell open as she stared at his retreating back. Turning to Gramma, Zadie opened her lips wider to speak, but the older woman just held up a hand and shook her lovely head. "Don't say it young un'," she stated and sighed before turning back to her baking.
"But---"
The slender hand shot up again, stopping her mid-word. "Hush! Get on down there and walk the man over the wards. Wouldn't do to have him making a mess all over the yard. Now git!"
Zadie just glared and then darted off after the Gangrel. No, wouldn't do to have him make a mess all over the yard. Would be a shame, actually. Except that she'd have'ta hold his hand again. Making a face, she shot down the stairs after him.
Gramma leaned back to watch her granddaughter go. Child might be starting to learn. Stubborn, like her granddaddy. But imminently trainable. Nodding to herself, she pulled the next batch of cookies out and began to arrange them on the plate.
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