Hiding behind the pile of books, he tried hard to stay indifferent toward the staring eyes of definitely not much welcomed being that took residence in his shop. He must have to admit it to himself that more and more strange creatures appeared in front of him these days. Not like, he had any saying in the matter. From the old days, he was capable of seeing everything other people seemed not to notice or simply didn’t know it even existed. After few unpleasant incidents during his childhood, he learned to ignore most of things that seemed unnatural from normal people’s point of view. Now he was so used to seeing things that he didn’t even bother to react to their provocative actions. He just simply didn’t liked the idea that some strange …creatures could disturb his normal day to day life. What’s more, he didn’t want to appear crazy or something simply because others couldn’t see what he knew was real.
He peeked at the cat lying on top of his clerk desk. It wasn’t the first day the transparent animal took a place near the cash register and in the laziest manner known observed his daily work. It was unnerving because damn animal somehow knew he could be seen by him. He definitely took a sick pleasure from teasing him while quickly changing places or simply following him when he went looking for a book for his client. Sometimes he even purred quietly while rubbing against his trousers. It was hard to concentrate at his work when some ghost cat tried to make friends when he couldn’t even pet him properly in front of customers and assistant. Cats were his biggest love, even those not alive.
With a sigh, he put the last book on the shelf and turned to face a big old clock hanging from the wall. It was good past 7 p.m. already. Bobby, his part-time employer dismissed himself earlier today with some talk about his sister coming to the town with visit or something. Even if he didn’t have any urgent business coming at the closing hours, it took him a while to arrange and catalogue books that arrived this afternoon.
His bookstore wasn’t a big one, rather small and well hidden in the street maze but with a decent smell of wood and old paper hanging in the air. Like some second-hand bookshop with its own old story and it was. It took him a great deal of money to redecorate and reactivate an old ruined shop left him by his grandfather. Probably due to the old man’s age, he couldn’t manage his shop well and business went down. During renovation, there were moments when he started to doubt his actions but stubbornly tried hard to put his grandfather’s dream into reality.
Now he knew it was a good idea. Even if there weren’t too many clients, there was always a few regulars coming everyday with whom he could share his own passion to old manuscripts. He even arranged a small area with antique sofa and equally old armchair and coffee table, where his clients could take it easy and relax with a cup of coffee while indulging in book. Thanks to that very gesture, he earned some more clients who started to come into bookstore regularly and almost never leave empty-handed.
But at this hour there was no one except the ghost cat that stretched itself on the desk. He drew blinds and started to the door when someone unexpectedly pushed them from the outside. A wave of strong wind almost knocked him over to the floor. At the last moment, a pair of the strong hands saved him from hurting himself. It took him a moment to realize he looked at the pair of unnaturally glowing purple eyes belonging to a tall, well-build man in a long coat with short black hair holding him tightly in his arms. An intense look on his handsome face made him shiver nervously. He released himself awkwardly form the grip, trying to fix his dishevelled clothes.
“Dante, it’s you,” he sighed with small relief on his face. “Don’t scare me like that.”
“I deeply apologize for making you uncomfortable,” said man stepped into the shop, closing the door behind him. “I’m always forgetting that you’re human enough to not feel my presence through the walls,” the man said with a small smile dancing in the corner of his lascivious lips. He eyed the smaller and significantly younger man hungrily, locking his view on a bright orange hair adorning the man’s head in short uncontrollable spikes. “Although I’m pleased your hairs stay as tangerine-like like always.”
“Oh, cut it, please,” the man scowled making his features sharpen significantly. “I’m not turning colours like some chameleon. At least they’re not pink for Pete’s sake.”
Dante laughed quietly, his deep baritone making the shopkeeper shiver uncontrollably. It never was good being in the man’s overwhelming presence. Just his deep voice was enough to make him lost his reason, although it was never good enough to let the man into his pants willingly. He still had some strong will, mind you.
“So,” he eyed the man suspiciously, “what brings you here? It isn’t everyday you visit me in these late hours, Dante.”
“Oh, talk about business,” the man grimaced with little distaste. “Some things never change, but maybe it’s a good thing. If we’re talking about business, I would like you to take a look at something,” with those words the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a small flat black box tied with a red string.
“And that’s why I want you to look at it. Even I’m not sure what it contains, what with the seal and all. But some dear friend of mine wanted me to take it to someone who would give an honest opinion about the thing,” the man said making himself comfortable in the armchair. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“If this is something I can help,” he shrugged his arms, walking toward the small kitchenette in the back. “Would you like coffee or tea?”
“Tea, please,” the man replied with a smile. “You’re as considerable of your guest as always.”
“It never hurts to be nice, you know?”
Ten minutes later, they both sat at the coffee table, taking their time sipping a tea from porcelain cups. The silence in the air seemed to be comfortable enough to make forcing a small talk needless. Placing his cup on the table, the orange head eyed the lying box suspiciously.
“I hope I don’t need to be concerned about this dear friend of yours. I wouldn’t want some unexpected guest at my door any time in the future, mind you.”
“I assure you there’s no need to worry about that. I would be very upset if my favourite bookseller was to be bothered by some more ethereal beings than he’s at the moment,” Dante send him reassuring smile while indulging himself in nice aroma of the served tea.
“You mean the cat?” the orange head grimaced in a mocking smile. He pulled a hand toward the sitting creature next to him, making it purr contentedly. “I think it was pure black in its previous life or he wouldn’t come to me in such manner. You know, witches and things like that. I like referring to him as Blackie …sounds nostalgic, don’t you think?”
“Nostalgic, you say…,” the man looked at him thoughtfully but didn’t dare to comment.
“Oh well, I love cats so it’s alright if he decides to stay here. Think I can find him some ghost mouse to keep him busy during the day?”
“I think you’re talking rubbish.”
“I was joking, you know?” the orange head laughed cheerfully, specks of gold dancing in his chocolate eyes.
It was a good sight. The man’s laugh was so rare it seemed it never existed in his life but it was understandable with past events and his most precious person disappearing from this world. The life recently dealt him only bad cards and it definitely hurt to take everything in stride with a straight face no less.
“Oh well, lets look at what we have here,” the orange head reached for the box. “I hope there isn’t something dangerous inside like the last time.”
Dante laughed at the memories of the withered hand that decided to rip the orange head’s hairs a couple o months ago. It was truly a remarkable sight.
“Don’t laugh. It wasn’t funny,” the man grimaced with distaste.
“I know, I know but you must admit it was a sight to behold. I never seen you spit so many curses in such short amount of time.”
The red head mumbled something not very nice at the comment, but didn’t dwell further on. Taking the box in his left hand, he placed the right one on the red string and closed his eyes. For a couple of minutes he stayed completely still. Dante placed his cup on the table and observed the man intensely. For a long while, nothing happened but then streams of black smoke started to escape from under the orange head’s fingers. The smoke danced in the air taking various complicated patterns and disappearing without a trace.
“Done,” the young man said, pulling at the string. The red line had fallen gently on the table. After taking lead of the box, the orange head made a strange face.
“What’s wrong?” asked Dante bending into his direction.
“It’s a necklace.”
“And what’s wrong with that?”
“From a teeth.”
“A teeth…?”
The orange head looked straight in the man’s purple eyes. There was a grimace on his face telling he was feeling very disturbed right now. That also wasn’t an often sight of the said young man.
“They’re werewolf’s teeth, Dante.”
Dante leaned into the armchair with a slight sigh. He rubbed his fingers against the bridge of perfectly straight nose. Squinting his eyes slightly, he sighed one more time. “Figures…”
“What are you implying?” the orange looked at the macabre trophy with scrutinizing eye and put the lid back on it.
“You know, my dear friend is a vampire,” declared Dante with still bothered face.
“I’m not sure what to make of this information. You said the war between your species ended some decades ago and now you’re living in comparative peace, right?”
“And that’s the problem. If my friend knew this box contains werewolf’s teeth, he wouldn’t give it to me, even mention about its existence. It’s against our very truce to possess such dangerous things, mind you.”
“Is it really dangerous?” asked orange head, placing the box back on the table.
“You tell me. You’re more well-informed about such artefacts what with you being a book worm and all.”
“Now you’re laughing at me. I don’t appreciate such rude jokes and you know very well I do possess very little sense of humour. Besides, you two are kin. What are you going to do?”
“I think it’s not very wise to report such thing to the council. I think it wouldn’t do good either for me and my friend. I would be in much more peace if it would stay in your store for the time being.”
The orange head violently shook his head. “You know I can’t accept it for free.”
“What about the cost of putting a seal back on the box?”
The younger man sat silently for a while, thinking intensely about the proposition.
“It indeed was a powerful spell. I think it would do. But don’t think if you give it to me, you’re friend may be against it?”
“Oh, I think I can persuade him if the need arise,” Dante smirked with a little evil glee on his face. “You’re always a big help, Yuu.”
The black cat purred contentedly at the young man’s hand rubbing his back.
“Well, thank you.”
***
After getting rid of his late guest, he at last closed the shop. He chuckled at the sight of the black cat, taking place on the cushions thrown onto the armchair and getting himself ready to rest. Waving his slender tail at the orange head, he purred with deep satisfaction.
“I see you don’t have the slightest intention to leave the place,” he said, smiling mockingly at the feline creature. “Oh well, do as you wish. I’m turning off the light.”
The cat meowed at him and put head on his paws, closing his golden eyes shut. The orange head shrugged his arms and went to the back doors. Turning the light switch off, he closed the doors and looked at the dark backyard. The night fell upon the surrounding buildings, plunging the corners into the thick black nothingness. He started toward the near stone stairs, his shoes clattering on the cobblestones covering the courtyard. The stairs lead him in the dark gallery hiding in its shadow heavy oak doors and darkened windows lined in straight line, each leading to different a flat, currently not inhabited by people.
It was truly a wonder nobody seemed interested in living in such great and mystique environment. The courtyard, now dark and unpleasant, in the daylight presented a truly wonderful sight of flowerbeds and wooden benches hidden in the shadow of the gallery where you could peacefully admire blooming rose bushes. The old tenement houses were in great shape, covered in fresh paint, each having a central heating system, hot water at any time night or day, even a cable and the Internet if someone wished. However, he wasn’t eager to rent them to somebody, at least not yet.
The only one who he found favour with was an elderly lady that occupied one flat on the ground floor. It turned out she rented the flat from his late grandfather and was his close friend since then. Miss Youko – she hated when he called her by her surname – was a lovely lady he admired since their first meeting and probably the only one he would talk to in his native language. He loved these moments when he would help elderly woman look after the rose bushes or clean empty flats and chat with her about simple daily things. The age difference didn’t matter in this case. Miss Youko was such an energetic and charming woman he sometimes thought they were the same age. During the renovation of the shop and tenement house he inherited, he took special care in redecorating her apartment. There is not need to mention she was very grateful and promised to take care of his meals during day as a gesture of gratitude. And in that way he would almost everyday enjoy the woman’s truly magnificent cooking skills. It was even greater joy to wake up early morning to the aroma of the brewed coffee beans and fresh buns with homemade jam. She was truly magician in the kitchen and he often enjoyed her cooking lessons she sometimes gave him. He was gifted with a truly wonderful neighbour he would ever wish having.
However, there were also things he would rather not talk about with the woman. For example, about his ability to see otherworldly creatures and such, hanging near him during days and nights. Like always his excuse was he didn’t want to appear crazy to her. It wasn’t everyday you told someone you could see a ghost floating behind his or her head. People would surely freak out at the mention of strange creatures roaming among them on the streets.
Sighing dejectedly, he reached into his pocket. Pulling out clinking bunch of keys, he opened the farthest door and let himself into his dark flat. Switching the lights on, he stomped into the small hall. Leaving the keys in the glass vase standing on top of small table near the door, he hanged his jacket on the coat rack. Taking the posts Miss Youko probably leaved on the table earlier, he went toward the kitchen. There, on a tabletop waited for him his late dinner wrapped up in the foil, ready to reheat it in the microwave. He smiled to himself at his lovely neighbour. She never seemed to leave him hanging after the long day in the shop. It was a truly good idea leaving her his spare keys to the flat, so she could roam free in his fully furnished kitchen, cooking up new things and leaving them for him to eat. Walking toward the fridge, he sighed at the sight that awaited him inside. Of course, she made him few days worth set of different meals nicely packed in hermetic boxes. That meant she would be away for a few days, probably visiting her sister in the country. She liked disappearing in the most mysterious ways but also never leaving him without some sort of a message. Just like the full fridge in his view. When was the last time she went to visit her family? Probably few weeks ago, so it was high time to make another visit. The perspective of his favourite lady being away saddened him a bit but it also meant she was going to come back with heaps of souvenirs. Yes, that wasn’t a bad sight so he better stop sulking right away. He also had his own job waiting for him to be done in the following days.
Humming happily at the prospect of delicious meals he would devour for the next few days, he took a quick shower. Drying his flaming hair with towel, he went back to the kitchen and put his cold dinner in the microwave. After a couple of minutes he was sitting at the small table under the window and tucking himself with a greatest lasagne he ever had the pleasure of tasting. In front of him laid the same black box, he promised to take care of. He bristled at the thought of the though job waiting ahead of him. Breaking things was considerably easier for him than mending them back together. On the other hand, he couldn’t leave the necklace to its own devices. There would surely appear many of those, who wanted to take hold of such powerful artefact.
Sighing with resignation, he placed dirty plate in the sink and took the box in hand. Walking through the hall to the farthest door, he opened them and went inside. What appeared before his eyes was a big room with fireplace and couple of armchairs and coffee table. Under the walls were proudly standing massive bookshelves full of unmistakeably old books. Walking on the plush red carpet, he made his way toward the far wall where stood another door with such rusty handle it seemed impossible it still worked. Placing his free hand on it, he murmured quietly a few words and the door lighted with warm orange light emanating from the ornamental patterns that appeared on its surface.
Smiling gently to himself, he opened them and walked into the bigger room full of shelves packed with different assortments. The variety of wooden boxes, vases, baskets, ancient weapons, dusty scrolls and seemingly useless bits and pieces were lying on shelves, waiting for their time to be in use one more time. Turning the light on he looked around making sure nothing changed its place or went missing in his absence. Breathing a sigh of relief, he affirmed everything seemed to stay where it belonged. He would be deeply disappointed if the barriers he placed around the place were to suffer damage. His grandfather didn’t leave him all those artefacts to lose them because of his own negligence.
Closing the door behind him, he made move toward the centre of room, where on the wooden floor was craved his personal magic circle. Sighing deeply – he did a lot of that lately – he took the place in the centre of the ring with the black box and white cotton tape in hands. Stretching the hand with the box, he closed his eyes and stood still. After a long while, the familiar streams of smoke started escaping from under his foot and circling his body in a lazy manner. The white tape in his other hand started to glow with white light and just like under the gust of wind it started flying vigorously. The smoke circled the tape and started marking it with black signs. When the tape was full, it flew from his hand and in a few smooth movements tied itself around the box. The orange head then bit his index finger and sealed the tape with a few drops of his blood. The light and smoke dissipated slowly.
He smiled contentedly at his work. It was only then he noticed the sweat that covered his forehead and palms of his hands. His chest was rising in ragged breaths, his heart thumping loudly as if it wanted to escape from his chest. Which was perfectly normal considering a moment ago, he sealed a very powerful artefact with an equally strong seal. It was obvious he would be exhausted.
He placed the sealed box on one of the shelves among other gathered things. He walked out of the storage, closing the door behind and headed toward his bedroom. The best thing to do at his situation was to go sleep. After a good rest, he should be okay. It wasn’t every day he had to use up such amounts of energy. Even if he was good with magic, it required from him too much strength. Sensing the nature of object wasn’t this demanding like changing it altogether.
He walked into the bedroom on pure instinct alone, fatigue taking the best of him. Everything was blurry and the room seemed to sway slightly. He tripped over the rug and before he could balance himself, he fell down on the floor with a dull sound. Breathing hard, he tried the last time to pull himself together but his body wouldn’t even budge. The last thing he could remember was the worried phantom cat nudging his motionless hand.
***
He felt something squashy patting his cheek carefully. Something that was soft like a cat’s paw. It took him a while to gather some strength and lift his eyelids. Like suspected, he was lying on the floor where he fell, just a couple feet from his own bed. Gray light of early morning was lighting up his bedroom, brushing away the last remnants of night into far corners of the room. And like he assumed, the soft thing brushing against his face was indeed a phantom cat’s paw. He remembered faintly that the animal appeared by him just moments before he lost consciousness. Moreover, it seemed that he stayed with him all night along. He couldn’t help but feel a little bit of appreciation toward the smart creature. Extending his hand, he patted the animal’s head affectionately.
“You couldn’t leave your playmate to himself, could you?” he stated with a small smile. “Isn’t it sweet of you?”
The cat purred contentedly, rubbing against his palm.
“Maybe I should get up already from this floor. It’s freaky cold there.”
That said, he put some strength into his arms and lifted his rigid back. Swaying on his feet, he tried his best not to fall again. His sore muscles were rebelliously going against him and leaved him no option but to drag himself somehow to the near bed. Collapsing on the soft bedspread, he heaved a sigh of relief.
“Shit, I knew it was bad idea to spend the night on the floor,” he said to the cat that was making itself comfortable on the feather pillow. “Oi, oi, aren’t you a little too comfy there? Oh well, it’s not like I don’t understand your point. It wouldn’t do me bad, if I could rest some more. But I have this customer at 10 that will come for this grimoire I recently found in the shop’s old storage… Oh hell! Why am I even talking to you? I must be really in a bad shape, if I’m talking to a ghost of a cat first thing in the morning. It’s indeed never too late to find yourself mentally unstable.”
With that said, he got up from the bed. Still on shaking legs, he started to search for something to cover himself with temporary.
After putting on a robe, he dragged his sorry ass toward the kitchen to prepare breakfast. It didn’t matter it wasn’t even 6 am. After the night activities, he felt intolerably hungry. Hoping the food could partially replenish his lost energy, he started making pancakes with some of that delicious handmade jam Miss Youko was courteous to leave in the fridge. A while later the kitchen was drowning in wondrous aroma of freshly brewed coffee. He smiled silently at his not so healthy habit of drinking such strong black coffee every morning possible. But it was probably also the only thing that would put up some energy in his still asleep body. He definitely wasn’t much of a morning person like his lovely neighbour.
When he was stuffing himself with food at the kitchen table, the sun was already rising from behind the roofs of nearly buildings. From the open window were starting to flow the sounds of passing cars and pedestrians heading to their workplaces. Truly, an ordinary morning in not so ordinary neighbourhood, if one could say.
Leisurely sipping his coffee from the cup, he silently observed the increasing movements of people. As he could see, mingling with humans was quite an amount of miscellaneous beings that were heading toward more secure and darker places, where morning sun couldn’t reach at the moment. Some creatures were fully developed, even taking on more human shape, when some others were only shadows among other shadows. And almost all creatures – save from ordinary ghosts or lost souls of humans and animals, like some would put up – appeared to share common aversion toward the daily star. It would appear they were somewhat allergic to the sunrays. It wasn’t such unusual thing as he couldn’t explain its origin. On the other hand, the random ethereal beings were paying no attention to murderous UV rays. They were becoming only more transparent than usual, if sometimes they seemed indistinguishable in the rush hours.
Strange as it may be, it was his daily routine. He was observing, he was learning but he had nobody to share freely his experience. Besides few more organised beings – humans they were not – like vampires or equally classic and tragic werewolves, he seldom encountered other fairy tale-like races. Sometimes he could watch them from afar but to his better judgement, he didn’t give his existence. But even then, other beings could somehow sense he was different from ordinary humans, be it his peculiar looks or his spiritual energy. Moreover, it soon became the cause of his otherworldly visitors at the shop, not like he could exactly help it. Even putting this strong barrier around the complex of buildings was working only in case of smaller beings with not so much spiritual power. It appeared the barrier would rather prevent from visits of truly dangerous and evil spirits than stop them altogether.
Sighing dejectedly, he got up from the table to put dirty dishes in the dishwasher. He had some more time to take a relaxing bath before he would have to open the shop. Walking in the bathroom, he threw off his robe and other garments and started filling the bath with hot water. After rummaging through the endless line of bottles and containers on the shelf, he found some bath salts. Stretching his lean body, he carefully sat on the edge of the tub waiting for the water to fill up. After a few moments, the bathroom was filling with aromatic mist and he lowered himself into the water. Relaxing his stiff muscles, he leaned his head against the edge of bath and closed his eyes.
His moment of idleness lasted only this much, when a sudden surge of energy rushed into the bathroom, rattling and throwing things off the shelves and shaking the sole foundations of his house. He immediately saw red lights flashing in his mind, a feeling of urgency he never felt overwhelming him in a matter of seconds. He got up from the bath fastest he could and grabbing discarded robe to put on himself, he dashed toward the source of such violent outburst.
He didn’t even make a couple of steps into the hall, when everything came to a sudden stop, leaving behind shattered glass from pictures that fell from the walls. But it didn’t stop him from his worries. He prayed silently to any god that was currently listening that nothing happened to the treasure room. Although it wasn’t the only thing he was fretting over at the moment. He definitely felt it right. He couldn’t mistake an opening portal from another realm, even if it never appeared in such unsettling way before. Someone or something landed inside his barrier, disturbing its structure with the sheer force of its power. And by the looks of things, the cause of current events landed exactly in front of his front door.
Rushing to the entrance, he pulled the door open and came to an abrupt stop. What he saw on his doorstep sent a chill down his spine. It was a man around his age, or he only looked like someone close his age, with skin pale as a full moon and with long hair the colour of fresh snow. But what took his breath away were large shiny black wings growing from the man’s back. He had no idea who this stranger could be, if definitely not any sort of angel. However, it didn’t take his attention from the growing puddle of blood pooling from underneath the man’s battered body.
