Many thanks to sponsor Chris Martin @therealMartianMartin for his generous support of vampire survival. If you're in town and would like to join the fight, Mr. Martin and Miss Yasuko Kushida will be at the annual ACSS Survivor Fundraiser. Tickets in the link, all proceeds will go to the ACSS and Vampire Survival Foundation. Meet and Greet will take place every Friday of January, starting @9pm
#ACSS #vampireslive #VampireSurvival #Techland #TechlandPark #meetandgreet #meetavamp #meetYasuko #Yasukovampire #Yasuko #Kushida
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"No, ma'am, I'm afraid not." Breeze told the latest in a long line of complainers, squeezing his hands together as he forced his genial smile in place.
"This is ridiculous." The woman stressed, gesturing down the length of her body. "You can't ask me to wear the same outfit twice! That's absurd!"
He tried not to stare pointedly at the large placard sitting by the front entrance. Or the additional three within a fifty foot radius. Or the brochure gripped in the woman's left fist. All of which read across the front: 'PLEASE BE CAUTIOUS! VAMPIRES ARE SENSITIVE TO EXCESSIVE STIMULI. FOR YOUR SAFETY AND OUR VAMPIRE FRIENDS', CLOTHING AND ACCESSORIES MUST BE CLEARED WITH STAFF BEFORE INTERACTING WITH VAMPIRES.'
Breeze did, however, politely pause for a moment, in case revelation would strike. It didn't, sadly. "If I could direct you to the terms and conditions, which were included when you bought your ticket," With practiced ease, he picked up a plastic clipboard, tapping the crisp, laminated paper lying there. "See...here." He pointed at the specific line.
Third paragraph down. Extra bold font. Not that anyone ever remembered to read the fine print. He almost had the paragraph memorized, as often as he'd read it out in the last hour.
"'By purchasing a ticket to the Annual ACSS Survivor Fundraiser,'" he recited, "'You agree to abide by the code and conduct policy listed below.' I have your signature, Mrs. Wells, signed," he quickly referred to his tablet, her name and a digital image of the signature already called up. "Right here. By signing, you've agreed—"
"No one reads those things," the woman snapped, slapping the tablet aside. "Maybe you haven't noticed," she sneered, "But my husband is friends with the senator. The senator."
'Yes, you and half of the state is friends with the senator,' Breeze thought sarcastically after she had stormed away in a huff. 'Funny how no one has said which senator.'
The next customer, equally obnoxious, declared, "I know Senator Garmen."
'Ah, yes, great. And how long has he been retired?'
It had taken years of practice to master pleasantry, and Breeze borrowed every ounce of his willpower to maintain his facade. "Vampires are sensitive to stimuli," he repeated for the hundreth time. "That's why we host these Meet and Greets to start with. To acquaint you with Miss Kushida and prevent her from being overwhelmed."
As with the rest, the man stomped away, darkly promising to give Breeze's superiors a call.
When there was a lull in the whining, Breeze checked his phone. The guests milled about the lobby, talking loudly—mostly bitching. Yasuko was still in the vehicle, awaiting confirmation that the sun had fully set.
'More trouble. Never ends.' He sighed.
The Meet and Greet sessions were always a chore, and while they had gone mostly without trouble thus far, he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Probably a pessimistic mindset, and an unhealthy one at that, but Breeze would rather live in misery than be caught off-guard.
Juniper trotted close, his own tablet cradled horizontally across his forearms. "Why does everyone have to be so rude about it? It's just clothes."
"I'm aware." Breeze sighed. Vampires, the ACSS, and people in general were a pain in the ass. Retirement couldn't come soon enough.
"Speaking of which..."
He dropped his head, another sigh oncoming. 'June, can't this wait until later?'
"I read a paper on the underlying reasons for their inflexibility with environments. Professor Wither, Harvard, 1932—"
"June..."
The younger fairy continued, unheeded, "He postulated that the Formula is a mathematical construct used to sense and assess danger. It was more math than I care to know, but part of his theory was that the Formula is constantly computing something out of their environment, using familiar variables to calculate safety and security. When encountering unknown variables, the Formula throws an error, assumes a threat, then tells the vampires to run. Once the magic finds somewhere familiar, it can start calculating and feel safe again. He suggested that it's something the first generation came up with to protect the vampires who can't rely on the Hive, which is why the Formula only activates with vampires outside a Circle."
"Yes," Breeze murmured wearily, exhaustion nipping at the back of his neck. He had to pause and paste on a smile when a human passed too near. It took monumental effort, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and pass out. "Yes, I know. I had to read the paper before I was hired." That and several others.
"Oh." A thoughtful pause. "Why didn't you interrupt me?"
"I tried. Multiple times."
Juniper's response was a dissatisfied frown.
Flexing his fingers, Breeze resisted the urge to rub his eyes. He had resolved that he could be patient until the transition period was over and the new caretaker was comfortable in the role, but anxiety hung over his shoulders, making them ache with tension. Two years was a short span for an immortal, but he felt like he was running down a nightmare corridor—his hand constantly outstretched for a door at the other end but never gaining ground.
He clutched his tablet, finding his knuckles white with strain. With physical effort, he forced himself to unwind. Oddly, he felt a craving for Yasuko's tea. There was something weirdly soothing about the ceremony and pomp of her pouring for him. He could tell that she felt the same, and a relaxed Yasuko was quite the sight. "Where's Emil?"
"With Fel," was Juniper's short reply, brow furrowed. His tablet was linked to Yasuko's car, showing a view of the vampire as she idled in the backseat. "She's drawing something on the seats. I think that's the same pattern as the other night." He really wanted to document this; Breeze could see the curiosity eating at the fairy's eyes.
Glancing around and sighting their two coworkers, Breeze patted Juniper on the back and said, "It's probably another painting or something. Keep an eye on her," before trotting towards the others.
Feldick stood smiling next to the towering figure of Emil Reyes, Breeze's replacement. Rather than his usual apathy, the fairy had adopted the customary Autumn fairy smile, bestowing all around him with the illusion that their species was nothing except pleasant and friendly. Emil, on the other hand, emanated a menace that some would say was inappropriate for charity work. A Spanish-born, American-raised shapeshifter, he possessed a frame made for fighting and suitably equipped with gratuitous muscle mass. As a fairy, slender and lean by race, Breeze couldn't understand why the man hadn't applied his bulk to a more appropriate field, but apparently Emil had an extensive background in politics.
...a very vague background, one which he was unwilling to enlighten further. Breeze tried not to think of his replacement's reticence as a red flag.
'You're just irritated that Daniel hired him without consulting you or letting you sit in on the interview. Don't take it out on Emil.'
"How is everything going?"
"Great!" Feldick chirped brightly, patting Emil's bicep. The bigger man bestowed a glare on the fairy, who steadfastly ignored it. "Emil just had some suggestions on the security."
Suggestions? Breeze's eyebrows quirked. Had he imagined the warning hitch in Feldick's tone?
Expression stern, Emil pointed towards the entrance, currently held wide open in anticipation of Yasuko's arrival. "We need to keep all the exits clear." He had a way of gesturing that one might call 'violent,' but Breeze didn't want to make too many presumptions on the shapeshifter's character. The man had only come in yesterday, and this was hardly the time to start throwing around assumptions.
All the same, he was keenly aware that his sword was not with him. Not that he was supposed to be dueling shapeshifters, or anyone for that matter, but the discomfort lingered. "We can't do that. If Yasuko bolts, she's gone."
Vampires, the ACSS had learned the hard way, were very good at running. Particularly when panicked. Breeze knew of several occasions where careless staff had lost control of their charge. All of the individuals in charge had been disgraced, reviled by the public, and then fired. He could already envision the smear campaigns. His mother's reaction, too.
"We should set safe houses around the event center," Emil pressed, making Feldick's eyes slightly bug out. "When she runs, she'll recognize them and hide there. Then we can retrieve her."
Breeze controlled his expression. Safe houses? On the surface the idea sounded great, perhaps even revolutionary, but anyone with two brain cells to rub together and a foundational knowledge of vampire habits knew it was a bad idea. This echoed the recent trend of foolishness the ACSS had been touting, which made Breeze more than slightly nervous. "There's not enough time to train her with safe houses. And even if there was, there are so many things that could go wrong."
How was Yasuko supposed to recognize a safe house? With a symbol on the door? But what if that distinction was compromised? What if there was a bird nearby and she fixated on that market, instead? What if it was a car on the other street? Vampires were kept indoors because it was so easy to control such environments. If a safe house was a feasible idea, it would have been utilized long before now. He tried to explain these facts to Emil.
"As long as we keep the doors closed and locked, all we need to do is catch her."
"And she would react badly and possibly hurt herself." Emil pulled his spine straight, somehow making himself seem at least three inches taller. His voice deep and imposing, meant to intimidate, rumbled, "Look, you've been doing this a long time, but I think you forget—she's a vampire. She's expensive."
Somehow, Breeze felt that Yasuko would take insult at such a remark. But he couldn't get into that argument; Feldick was shifting slightly, casting wide-eyed looks at the audience mingling about. 'Don't draw attention!' the fairy's gaze warned.
Breeze hoped his smile didn't look as brittle as he felt. "We can discuss this later. Today, nothing can change. Yasuko is—"
The radio on his waist chirped, as did similar ones Feldick and Emil each carried, followed immediately by Juniper's chipper voice. "She's getting out!"
Nothing could go right, it seemed. Stretching his mouth so wide he felt his face would crack in two, Breeze about-faced and jogged to the SUV. Sure enough, the door was open, and the interior was so dark, it resembled the maw of a cave. And sitting within, her head turned towards his approaching form, was Yasuko, her black eyes seeming to glow from the pale halo of her face like coals amidst a dark nest of embers. Just the same, she could ignite Breeze's life to ruin.
It was frustrating how much power a mere vampire could wield over him, without even knowing it.
He held out his hand, smiling when she loftily gave him her own, "Milady."
As was her usual, she bared her teeth, and he was reminded of Emil's comment—expensive. She could glare all she liked; she was a pricey little Japanese poodle, meant to sit in someone's lap. And just like an actual dog, any harm to her person, particularly on social media, would summon the mighty rage of the public. He'd be burned at the stake if she so as much got a paper cut.
'No pressure,' Breeze thought snidely, as he guided her to the building.
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