“But Mason left the Fraternal Order of Goodness,” I said.
“Nonetheless,” he said. “I think the other agents are mostly humoring me. Still, I could use a few drinks to loosen my lips and wax nostalgic.”
“I’ll try to be there,” I said, stepping out of his office. “Thanks.”
As the Inspectre closed the door behind me, his face registered a silent sadness. I wasn’t sure if it was from old age having seeped into his bones or not, but I decided that after taking a little time off for myself, at least a round or two of drinks would be on me tonight. Getting the Inspectre a little drunk seemed like a fine way to respect my elders, and now that I thought of it, I never did ask him for the damned boat requisition I had come up here for in the first place. Ah, well, it could wait. That would probably go over better with a few drinks in him, too.
14
I considered spending my free afternoon going through my ever-growing catalog of antiques back at my apartment, but, afraid of triggering another messed-up vision, I instead found myself wandering alone over on Broadway in the Village. For hours I shopped up and down the stretch, with only one object in mind—a new dresser for my bedroom, without using my powers for once. My last incident hadn’t gone so well, but I was determined to work through the mental gymnastics my power was putting me through. I looked through stores that had existed for decades, but after hours of poking about, nothing felt quite right. Frustrated, I checked my watch—my hunt would have to continue later. Right now I had to get over to Eccentric Circles if I was going to catch up with the Inspectre.
I entered the old bar. It looked like a T.G.I. Friday’s designed with sort of a Harry Potter theme, oddities of the arcane world that would have given it an almost tourist-attraction hokeyness except for the fact that it was all real to those of us in the know.
The place was packed with an after-work crowd, but I didn’t think all of them hailed from the Department of Extraordinary Affairs. I crushed through the crowd at the front by the bar and found the Inspectre seated on one side of a booth out back, several pitchers and glasses of beer spread out on the table. Some of the booths held familiar faces, but it was the faces seated with the Inspectre I was surprised to see. The brothers Christos sat there opposite him.
“Oh, look,” Aidan called out, pointing at me. “Delivery!” The vampire couldn’t help but laugh at his own joke. I, however, wasn’t quite as amused.
“Funny,” I said, slipping into the booth next to the Inspectre. I turned to him. “I didn’t realize the undead were into memorial tributes, unless it’s for one of their own.”
Connor thwacked me on the arm. “Consider him my plus one, kid.”
“Besides,” Aidan said, “did you ever consider maybe that’s part of the problem between our people? You keep assuming that our kind is only interested in what is best for us.”
“Your leader sure seems to be looking out for his own interests,” I said.
Aidan shook his head. “Not true,” he said. “Don’t mistake his general desire to be left alone as a single-minded attempt to break away from humanity completely.”
“Gentlemen, please,” the Inspectre interrupted, already sounding like he had put away a few beers. “Tonight is not a night to discuss vampiric affairs. We’re here to mourn the loss of Mason Redfield.”
I grabbed a glass and poured myself a beer from one of the pitchers at the table. I raised it and the group of us toasted to the dear, departed professor. While I drank it down, I looked around the room. “Quite the turnout,” I said. “I didn’t realize so many people knew Redfield. Not bad for a guy who left the Fraternal Order of Goodness—what—thirty years ago?”
The Inspectre looked around the room, a bit melancholy. “Most of them don’t recall him,” the Inspectre said, wiping away a bit of foam that had accumulated in his mustache. “I think this crowd is mostly a mix of the usual oddities that inhabit Eccentric Circles. There are a few Departmental people here who came out on my behalf, but I really think there are few left in our ranks who actually remember Mason before he left the Order.”
“You think any of them would know anything about the case?” I asked.
The Inspectre shook his head. “Doubtful,” he said. “I don’t know of anyone who’s kept in touch.” He took a long pull on his glass, and then set it down empty. “Least of all me.”
“Don’t worry, boss,” Connor said from across the table. “We’ll find that creepy water woman who killed Mason and attacked Jane.”
I looked to Connor. “Maybe your brother has some kind of powers that can help,” I said. “Something, you know, all vampirey.”
Aidan smiled, but it was not one of confidence. “ ’Fraid not,” he said. “I’ve only been a bloodsucker with them for about twenty years. They still call me fledgling back at the Gibson-Case Center, despite my high ranking among Brandon’s core group of cronies. They’re a bit secretive about what they will and won’t teach the newer vampires about their growing powers, so I’m not even sure what will develop with me over time.”
“Great,” I said, feeling a bit defeated.
“But hey,” Aidan continued, “I’m pretty sure I could charm the truth out of some of these people. Does my natural charisma count as a supernatural ability?”
“Looking all emo in your Hot Topic hoodie doesn’t make you charismatic,” I said. “It makes you look like a tool. Especially at forty.”
“It not my fault that I look so much younger than my age,” Aidan said. “You can blame Brandon and his people for that. I’m just dressing my part. Trying to fit the fashion of the time for someone in their late teens. Otherwise, I’d probably go with Connor’s style, but I just look too fresh-faced and youthful to pull off an old man’s trench coat.”
“Hey,” Connor said. “Watch it. I’m still your younger brother.”
“You know,” the Inspectre interrupted, pointing at the brothers Christos, “that’s what I miss the most.”
I looked at him. He had filled his glass again and was halfway done with it already. “Sir?” I asked.
“That camaraderie,” he said. “That banter that comes so easily between people. Mason was a master of it.”
“If it helps, Connor and I could bicker some more,” Aidan said. “We’re still making up for lost decades of it . . .”
The Inspectre answered the vampire, but I didn’t quite catch what he said. My focus had just shifted, drawn to another table that caught my deep focus halfway across the back of the bar.
“Hold up,” I said, continuing to stare.
“What is it, kid?” Connor said.
“Those are some of his,” I said.
Connor shifted in his seat and looked off toward where I was staring. “His what?” he asked. “Whose what?”
“The professor,” I said. “Those are some of his students sitting right over there. I’m pretty sure I saw them when I was flashing on some of Redfield’s classes and lectures in one of my visions.” At least, I thought they were the professor’s from where we sat. It was hard to forget the cute blond actress with the short spiked cut, but the four other faces at their booth looked vaguely familiar as well. The girl might even make it as an actress, given how memorable her face was.
“So, those are Professor Redfield’s little doters, eh?” Connor said, also checking them out.
“You want some answers?” Aidan said, rising up, forgetting his preternatural strength and practically flipping over the table. The rest of us struggled to save the pitchers of beer and our glasses. Aidan was eyeing the group at the other booth now with a dead-eyed stare. “I’ll get you answers.”
The Inspectre stood to meet him. “No, Aidan,” he said. “Thank you. I appreciate your willingness, but as you’ve mentioned, your leader would rather your kind minimize their exposure.”
“You can consider this a freebie,” Aidan said.
“It’s all right,” I said, standing up myself. “I’ve got this. After all, I’m most likely to pass for college age, remember?”