Liberté Foncée

"I always thought the biggest failing of Americans was their lack of irony. They are very serious there! Naturally, there are exceptions...the Jewish, Italian, and Irish humor of the East Coast."

-- Colin Firth

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: COFFEE, BLACK AND WHITE

It was astounding how quickly summer could turn to autumn, and how long the cold months lasted compared to the warm.

To be fair, it wasn't exactly cold. In fact, it was damn near thirty, and it would probably top it by midday. Nevertheless, there was something in the air. It tasted like fall, and the fiery leaves cluttering the ground were quick to agree.

Shane took a final gulp of his coffee and stepped away from his window. As he reached out to put the empty cup on the table and missed, resulting in a loud crash and several piece of ceramic coffee mug on the floor, he decided he was paying far too much attention to the weather.

*

Adrienne and Ayden had taken to a sort of question-and-answer game of late. Neither of them knew where it had come from, or why it went on the way it did, but this didn't keep one from know exactly what the other meant when they paused thoughtfully in a dying conversation and said something like "Favorite card game?"

"Not a fan," Adrienne said. "I never got good at any. And if you're not good at playing or at least at cheating, you can lose a mint."

"My friends and I played a lot," Ayden said thoughtfully. "Shane was never too fond of them, but he'd go along with it. I think he still owes me money."

"So are you good or do you just cheat?"

"Both," Ayden admitted with a crooked grin. He waved his wand carelessly, and a deck of playing cards appeared in his hand. "Game of Gin?" he offered innocently. Adrienne rolled her eyes and quickly became interested in something over Ayden's shoulder. "What?" he asked, turning in his seat.

"Newbies," said Adrienne distastefully. There was a young couple coming through the door at the other end of the room.

"Eh?"

"Newbies," she repeated.

They looked about Ayden's age. The bloke looked like he could've been a few years older. The girl was short and redheaded, giggling at something her companion - taller, with dark hair and a cheeky, boyish face - had said. The companion leaned over, gave her a kiss and whispered something into her ear.

"Those two," said Adrienne calmly, "are going to die without a good place to shag around here."

"Depends on how creative they are," Ayden said reasonably. They watched as the two realized they were in the presence of others and how all eyes seemed to be trained on them. They took a few steps further into the room and straightened up, recollecting some amount of dignity. The girl smiled brightly and waved to those still watching.

"Oh, shit," said Adrienne.

"What?"

"I do not believe this," she continued, as though she hadn't heard him.

"What?" he demanded again. But Adrienne was already on her feet, crossing the room to confront the newcomers. Bewildered, Ayden followed her.

"You," Adrienne snapped. "What are you doing here?"

The male of the duo looked at her, confused for a moment, then laughed. "Cassada! Long time no see." Ayden caught traces of an accent he couldn't quite place.

"Not long enough," Adrienne confirmed, but Ayden thought he could see her smiling slightly. He caught the redhead's eye, and it became apparent she was as lost as he was.

"How've ya been?" the newcomer asked.

"Same old. My partner's an idiot; I think I nearly missed you a bit."

"Um," said the girl.

"Seconded," Ayden agreed.

"They seem rather interested in one another," the girl said thoughtfully. She gave Ayden the same cheery look she'd shown the room. "Fancy a snog?"

"If they don't introduce us in a moment, I may feel abandoned and take you up on th--ow!" Ayden glared at Adrienne and rubbed his head where she'd hit him. "If you're going to beat up on me, at least take off the damn rings, will you?"

"We used to be partners," the Death Eater explained, indicating herself and the taller of the two newcomers. "I thought I'd gotten rid of him."

"You're doomed, Cassada, ain't never getting rid of me." He offered a hand to Ayden. "Conlon Lloyd," he introduced himself.

"Ayden Ryan."

"And I'm Apocalypse," the girl said. "Apocalypse Jameson."

"...Apocalypse?" Adrienne shot Conlon a look. "Where'd you find this one, Lloyd? Armageddon Enthusiasts Anonymous?"

"Call me Cal," Apocalypse said amiably. "Apocalypse, get it?"

*

Adrienne had thought that Apocalypse girl was mad from the moment she'd met her. Then again, that was to be expected. Conlon had never been attracted to anyone completely sane.

Within the next few days it became apparent the girl wasn't totally stable. For instance, she claimed the world was triangular, and she was heir to the triangular throne. Adrienne only hoped she was kidding. There was always that possibility. After all, Conlon claimed he was destined to be King of Brooklyn (as well as the rest of New York, but mainly Brooklyn) despite the fact he hadn't lived there in years and had hardly gone back to visit.

Nevertheless, the pair weren't bad company. While Conlon's accent still annoyed Adrienne to no end and his companion's chipper manner surprised her a bit, it was nice having someone else she could relate to around. Ayden was fine, really, but she'd never been sure if his heart was really in what he was doing for the Death Eaters. But hell, he was much better than the rest of the idiots she'd put up with for years.

She lay in bed one morning mulling over these thoughts. It had been a late night but she'd still woken early, unable to sleep for some odd reason. She heard someone stirring across the room, and she sat up.

Cal yawned and waved sleepily from across the room. Adrienne nodded to acknowledge her existence.

Ten minutes later the both of them were walking toward the dining hall, a large room in which "food" was served three times a day to the dead. The only thing that tasted the way it should was the coffee. Adrienne was grateful for her frequent assignments out into the world. It meant she had a chance of getting someone real to eat.

Today's breakfast was "bacon and eggs." Adrienne had never seen anything that looked less like bacon and eggs in her life.

"Second time this week, isn't it?" a voice inquired from behind the two young women.

"Third," Adrienne corrected. "'Morning, Ayden."

"See, this is the time it pays off not to like eating," Ayden said cheerfully as a sullen looking old wizard with gray hair, a square, thin face, and spindly limbs handed Adrienne a cup of black coffee. She chugged half of it down in one gulp before even turning to look at Ayden.

"Classy," he remarked.

"Even more classy if I throw this in your face. How about it?" she retorted. "Why are you in such a good mood, anyway? It's Monday. There is nothing good about Mondays."

"Hear, hear," Cal agreed. "Even if it doesn't make a difference because you work every day anyway. There's something programmed into a normal person's genetic code that makes them hate Mondays."

"Besides," Adrienne went on, "there's no way you slept last night. No one could've, with that bloody violin going all night."

It was true. Whatshisname, the kid with the violin, had been up all night. Clearly something had upset him, and he spent more time cranking out long, mournful tunes, keeping everyone awake. Adrienne had been tempted several times to hex him but had reminded herself that it might cause a disturbance which she couldn't have dealt with at the moment; she'd been tired, damnit.

"You have to block things like that out." Ayden took his cup from the aged coffee wizard. "My brother used to play these ancient Disney soundtracks at night to help him fall asleep. D'you have any idea how hard it was to sleep when the whole damn flat was alive with the sound of music? Especially if it was something with more lively songs, like Aladdin or Newsies."

Cal giggled. "So you do have a cute brother?" she asked.

"Used to," Ayden said. He sighed. "Dead now."

"Oh." Cal frowned. "Sorry..."

Ayden shrugged. "Anyway, point is, it takes practice. And it's a useful skill." He reached for a paper packet of sugar and poured it into his cup. He nodded to Adrienne. "I don't know how you can drink that stuff black."

"I don't know how you can be so awake on a Monday morning. We're even." She drained the rest of the cup, crumpled it in her hand and tossed it into a trash bin a few feet away. "No coffee for you, Your Highness of All that is Triangular?" she asked Apocalypse.

"Nuh uh. Coffee diet. 'Til December."

"Coffee diet?"

"Yeah. No coffee until December. I drink too much of the stuff. And I agree with Ayden, it's disgusting without cream and sugar."

Adrienne rolled her eyes. "Only way to drink it, says I."

"Each to her own. G'morning, everyone." Conlon had appeared out of nowhere. He looked a bit tired, but otherwise perfectly cheerful. Maybe it was a guy thing.

*

"Ever done anything like this before?" asked the trainer, a short, brown-haired man named Joseph (never Joe, as he had informed Ayden coldly). "Any gymnastics, kickboxing, anything?"

Ayden gave him a look. "No."

Joseph sighed. "Have you ever done anything that could qualify as physical activity and wasn't sex?"

"Does walking count?"

"Who recommended you for this job? Merlin."

"Someone with a very, very sick sense of humor," Ayden said heavily. At this point, he was taking pity on Joseph as well as himself. The poor guy hadn't asked for this. Not that it was going to spare him having to put up with Ayden's attitude, but he really hadn't.

Joseph was either looking around for something sharp to impale himself with, or trying to figure what would be the quickest exit. He came up with nothing.

"All right, then," he said resignedly. "Sooner we start, sooner we finish."

*

"I hate you," Ayden announced to Adrienne, collapsing onto a chair beside her.

"First day of training not going well, love?" she asked innocently.

Ayden glared at her. "If I can't move tomorrow and die for thirst after staying in one place for a week without water, it's on your head."

Adrienne patted him on the arm. "You won't be so sore once you get used to all the running and jumping and kicking and--"

"I get it," Ayden interrupted.

"Hey, at least you're not killing people any more."

"How am I supposed to kill anything if I can't move?"

"One of my best friends was a demon hunter," Cal interrupted, joining them. "She stuck to vampires mostly, and I personally think she slept with the attractive ones more than she killed them, but still."

"That," said Ayden, gingerly poking at a bruise on his arm and wincing slightly, "is not helping. I've already got a demon to sleep with, I don't need another one."

"I'm touched," Adrienne said dryly.

Ayden shrugged.

*

Candelabra's lighted
Satan has been sighted
Never has there been an evening like
This is what they wanted
Always to feel hunted
You can never be too rich or too
Thin, the blood has run out
Fangs ruin any cute pout
Morning has come, now they've flown
What have you learned from what has been shown?

-- Rasputina, Transylvanian Concubine

The apprehension soon became Ayden's least favorite part of the job. It was extremely unnerving to stand there, completely vulnerable, while whatever demon he had just approached with the proposition to join the Dark Lord's forces considered. The last moments of that apprehension, however, were the worst. When whatever the demon was opened its mouth - or whatever it spoke through - to either agree or eat the messenger.

Not that he wasn't able to deal with said demons. Quite the contrary, the evening training was paying off. Still, Ayden had never been a very athletic person and kick-boxing was definitely not his sport; to say the least, he didn't derive much fun from it.

Another very unsettling part of the job was the evening before when Robert Dumont would ask for his presence and proceed to inform him what he was to go after the next day. Ayden quickly learned to share Adrienne's dislike for the man, even though Dumont did seem to like him. Fact was, he was annoying. Not superior, just annoying. Having been employed in the Death Eaters' line of Demon Negotiations and Exterminations ("Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" he'd once said), he was always full of advice that Ayden tended to do his best to forget as quickly as possible.

"Vampires aren't very well liked by anyone except their own kind," he was telling Ayden. "Demons don't like them because they're human-like. Humans don't like them because they're too demon. It's made them feel superior to anyone they're stronger than, so mind you don't insult them."

"Sir, I have no intentions of insulting anything that would rather have a blood cocktail than sex," said Ayden flatly. It was late, he was tired, and he still had some research to do. That thing about the garlic had never made any sense to him. This combined made Ayden sarcastic, which no one ever seemed to enjoy.

The older man snorted and shook his head. "There's a rather useful potion that we keep plenty of on hand, there should be a considerable amount bottled down in the dungeons. Liquid sunshine, almost. You might find it very useful. If there are no questions, I suggest you go get some sleep and worry about the vampires tomorrow. This bunch are a pretty nasty clan, chances are good it'll come to combat."

"I can hardly wait," Ayden said dully, pushing open the door and heading out into the corridor.

He would've liked to sleep, but there was work to be done. Instead of heading down to the sleeping quarters, he headed up a flight of stairs to his left and down a thin stone passage hidden behind a tapestry serving as a backdrop to a bust of Salazar Slytherin. The statue murmured something in its sleep about an infestation of honeybees, then started to snore loudly.

A few minutes later, Ayden reached the demonology research lounge: a small, circular room with books on every known evil spirit in existence, and many that had been extinct for several centuries.

The stack of books on vampiric etiquette he had been studying the previous night were just were he'd left them, the coffee he'd conjured sometime around two in the morning and only drunk half of now stone cold. He fell into a chair by the table and picked up a large volume and flipped past the first few chapters, skimming for anything that might help him. After three books, tips and rules started blur together. Don't wear turtle necks, it seems like you don't trust them. Bright colors attract them, avoid if you don't want too look too tasty. Don't eat Italian food right before meeting with a vampire. Don't blink too - no, wait, that was for Hippogriffs.

Ayden fell into bed sometime around four, having reached it by nothing short of a miracle, and slept for ten hours until Adrienne, lonely and bored, prodded him awake threatening to soak him with ice water if he didn't get up.

*

"This is what you get for not drinking black coffee," Adrienne chided him that evening as Ayden rummaged in the trunk under his bed for extra wooden stakes and a crucifix or five. "God, I tell you, it's God. You never see me sleeping until two in the afternoon, do you?"

"Yeah, yeah. Hand me that bottle." He pointed by her left foot. Adrienne picked up the vial and examined it.

"Planning on getting them drunk first?" she asked with a smirk.

"Holy water. They're not too fond of it, vampires. You know, 'Ahh! It burns, it burns!'" Ayden slipped it into his pocket.

"You know, you're really cute when you're all business. But you wouldn't last five minutes against a teddy bear right now, you're dead on your feet, Ryan." He responded with a yawn, and Adrienne rolled her eyes. She waved her wand, muttered something, and a cup appeared in her hand. "It's black, but you're going to need it." She gave it to him.

"Black coffee is the devil," Ayden said, not even looking at it. "Have you seen that packet of lollipops I had earlier?"

"Decaf is the devil, Ayden. And you're giving them lollipops? They're vampires, not two year olds."

"Blood-flavored. They might have little ones, you never know."

Adrienne shook her head. "Drink the damn coffee. The candy's over there." She pointed to the packet hidden beneath the sheets of his unmade bed. Ayden grumbled something groggily and took the cup from her, draining it in the space of a few seconds. He shuddered.

"Disgusting," he informed her, ripping open the packet of blood-flavored sweets and stuffing a handful in his pocket.

"Don't you have anyone helping you on this?" Adrienne asked curiously, ignoring his insult to her god.

"Everyone else is either sick or too lazy."

"You're asleep."

"Except for that poison you just made me drink, yeah. I guess someone just doesn't like me. And I have to go. I hear these things get very upset when you're late."

"Have fun!" Adrienne said cheerily. Ayden gave her a look. "I meant that in a nice, non-dying way," she added. It was remarkable how much she reminded him of Betty at that particular moment; the thought was far more terrifying than the prospect of vampires. Ayden took a moment to recover.

"Great. Thanks. I'll keep that in mind. Maybe slay a few for you." He sighed heavily, got to his feet, and left the room.

*

It was a humid, muggy sort of night and unseasonably warm. The night seemed bright some how, orange. The thick clouds overhead reflected the streetlights, giving everything a pumpkin-tinted glow.

Knockturn Alley was just as Ayden remembered it from his last visit over a year ago; dark, dilapidated, and sinister. It was almost as if there was something about the air around the long, winding street; it made Ayden uncomfortable and horribly and out of place. Every so often, he got the feeling there was a whispering coming from the filthy alleyways: You shouldn't be here, you don't belong. Like he didn't already know.

The caffeine was making him feel jittery, and he kept glancing over his shoulder. It's not paranoia if someone's really after you, his head voice assured him.

The arranged meeting place was just beyond where the actual line of shops grew thin and signs proclaiming their establishments grew even shabbier than everything else around them. A deserted and ancient theatre stood at the very end of the line, moss oozing from between the stone steps to the front entrance, the heavy doors squeaking in protest as he pulled them open and stepped inside.

The inside of the theatre was a sad sight. Originally, it must have been beautiful. Now, the carpets covering the floor were moldy and the velvet seats were dusty and moth eaten. It was very dim and Ayden could barely see where he was going. He had stopped moving, pondering what to do, when he heard it - a high-pitched, rowdy laugh coming far from the lobby, somewhere by the stage. He went toward it. As he drew nearer, he saw a flickering light coming from the wings and a back room off of them.

There were candles stationed around the room, giving off barely enough light to see well. Sprawled across several tattered divans were six - no, seven, there was one lying on the floor - vampires. Three were holding wine glasses filled to varying degrees with a dark red liquid Ayden suspected strongly was not wine.

None of the group paid him any mind, if they noticed him at all. Ayden cleared his throat, and no one glanced his way. He knocked softly on the open door. Again, no one looked his way. "Pardon me?" he said. No response. "Oi! You lot!"

Six heads turned his way. Six pairs of fangs bared at him from contorted, demonic faces. The fellow on the floor raised his head, saw Ayden and gave a wave, hiccupped, and then dropped back out of sight with a soft thump. Maybe they were drinking the blood of alcoholics.

"Oooh, so he's come at last!" a tall, thin blond vampire squealed excitedly, slurring her words.

"Er, yes, I - I have."

"He's frightened," another of the creatures murmured as though Ayden couldn't hear him.

"He's mortal," someone else replied as though this was a sufficient excuse. Apparently it was; the other vampires were all nodding their heads grimly.

There was a pause. One of the vampires, an older looking male, invited him to speak and tell them what he'd come to say. Ayden cleared his throat, said his bit, then waited. The faces around him didn't look happy, and Ayden felt certain this meeting would not end happily with him skipping off with a good report to give.

"You humans have such a low perception of what you have. You are so willing to throw it to the winds the way you do," the vampire who appeared to be in control said in a low voice, sounding very much like a father chastising his children. "You are so ready to throw it away on mad tyrants like this Lord of yours." He growled, and his face looked animal. Those around him nodded and murmured in agreement again.

"Yes, erm, very good..." Ayden felt lost, having no idea what to say after this proclamation. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, ready to leave, hopefully without having to kill anything, and heard the crinkle of cellophane. The vampires were all staring at him, and he knew he couldn't go just like that. After a long beat, he pulled his hand from his pocket and held up a handful of dark red sweets. "Um... have a lollipop?"

The vampires stared.

"Perhaps not." He returned the candies to his pocket and fidgeted a bit uncomfortably.