The Old

Family and Other Evils

But I ask you, when do men fall on their brother with mighty weapons and bloody acts? They do such if they do not know their brother is themselves.

-The Red Book

“I was watching Vampire Diaries last night.”

“What the hell for?” Chris demanded.

“Because they live the way vampires should. They’re good and beautiful and mysterious—”

“Hey! hey!” Chris lifted a finger and took a fry off of Lawrence’s plate, “I’ll have you know I’m plenty mysterious, and what’s more. I think I’m good looking. You’re not bad yourself.”

“And they don’t have to have jobs,” Lawrence said wistfully, almost leaning in on the table and putting his chin on his fists.

“Strictly speaking, we don’t either. There’re cemeteries all around town that would be glad to have us.”

“Ick,” Lawrence waved that away, “I went through my coffin phase back in the Seventies.

“But have you noticed that?”

“Your coffin phase? Yeah. And the whole black cape and top hat. Stylish but—”

“Shut up,” Lawrence said. “Have you noticed the TV vampires, they always have nice houses, nice cars? Houses with electric, mind you. And no jobs. When in the world did being immortal come with shit tons of money? Do you know how much I would love to not go to work?”

“You love your job, you love your clothes, you love your Rolexes and your fancy cars and you love your hot girls.”

“Damnit, that’s just it!” Lawrence threw his napkin down on the table. Outside, where the rest of the restaurant was a street café, and students walked up and down Sheridan, Lawrence looked for just a moment and then he said, “I have tried to make myself a sort of sexy guy.”

“As a gay, gay vampire, you’re totally sexy, Laurie. And you always smell good.”

Laurie was dark and bold, bold featured, always in good suits, like the dress shirt, white and blue striped with white cuffs, red tie he wore now.

“The girl I’m seeing, was seeing,” Lawrence murmured, “was trying to see. Do you know what she said last night?”

Chris raised a pale blond eyebrow.

“Last night,” Lawrence leaned in, narrowing his dark eyes, “she said, ‘Please stop, I don’t think I have the emotional dedication to commit to finishing this.”

“This… relationship?” Chris tried.

Lawrence frowned and went red.

“She said it in the middle of… Oh, hell, she said it when I was fucking her. She said it just like that: ‘Please stop, I don’t have the emotional investment to finish this.’”

Chris covered his mouth.

“You think that’s funny? And then she just got dressed, really bored, didn’t even hurry, and left. I scarcely had the condom off.”

“It’s not funny,” Chris said, shaking his head, and to his credit the smile was gone. “It’s really not, and God knows I’ve had some disasters too.”

“You think Lestat ever had someone say please stop having sex with me in the middle of stuff?”

“I think Anne Rice vampires don’t really have sex.”

“Not my point, Chris. It’s just… It’s really I’m older than all of these stupid shows and books, but, when I … back then.. when I was just an ordinary person, I thought I would become something amazing. And so often I feel like I am. I’m the Lawrence who can climb up walls and walk through closed doors, who can drive a Maserati at full throttle, and hypnotize people if I want. Who wears fancy suits and, so I thought, holds women’s attention. But… I feel like I’m still that Laurie I always was, when I’m just alone with a person, with a woman. She knew all that I had. The car, the money. We were in my apartment. And that’s one hell of a place. And she still just… She literally told me I was a boring person. She was bored to tears while we were having sex. Do you have any idea what that feels like?”

“Becoming what we became does not make us proof to the bullshit of humanity,” Chris said. “It just means we go through more and more of it. Forever.”

Lawrence could tell that the tone in the conversation had changed, and Chris was staring out of the window eating fries absently and so he said, “And now you?”

“What?”

“Tell Dr. Lawrence what’s getting at you?”

“Lewis.”

“Lewis is great. What the hell do you mean?”

“Not Lewis. Me. I mean… I killed in front of him. I killed in front of Lewis the other night.”

Lawrence frowned, his eyes shocked.

“Did you ever do that before?” Chris asked.

“I never trusted anyone enough,” Lawrence said.

“Not even Veronica?”

For a moment Lawrence looked… raw was the only way Chris could describe it, and then he only shook his head. No.

“How did he take it? I mean, he’s not acting different, is he?”

Chris shook his head. “No. But it’s just… I’ve seen him do what he does. I’ve seen witchcraft, Lawrence. I’ve seen him heal sick people, relieve people in pain. I’ve seen him give life. And he watched me kill someone. I showed him that.”

“You showed him something he accepted.”

“And he did accept it,” Chris said.

“He… almost encouraged it. He… I keep looking for a part of him that doesn’t accept me, thinking he can’t be alright with me being me. And he is.”

Neither one of them spoke for a while and Lawrence finally said, “Veronica… since you brought her up.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“God, no! Don’t be sorry. She... she loved me. I loved her, and I never thought I’d love anyone. She knew what I was and she loved me. I was very silly around her. A braggart and… you know, the way I can be. And one night we were on the Lake. It was a very different lake then, and I told her everything. I thought she’d run away, or get the whole neighborhood to come and stake me. But instead she just… she just put my face in her hands and kissed me, and then… Well, we didn’t come home that night. And that night, while she was asleep and I was lying next to her, I got terrified. I wanted to run away. I was even thinking about doing it when suddenly her arms went around my waist and she said, Don’t you be doin’ that, Laurie Malone. You know… in that voice of hers. And… I think that’s what you’re feeling. A little. You wish a part of us wishes to be in the shadows. We’re afraid for people to see us as we are, and you wish that Lewis was…”

“Still innocent.”

“He was never innocent. I’ve met him. He’s a witch. Witches do not only heal, they kill. They live in the dark and in the light. Part of you wants someone who is so good they would run away from the real you, but what you’ve got is someone who understands you, and if you’re troubled about it, fine, be troubled. But you’ve got to get over that.”

“Can I touch the cards?”

“You can,” Owen said. “In fact, you’d better.”

The nervous man across from him picked up the large deck of cards and began awkwardly shuffling, and Owen said, only half looking at him, “Now you should find a card that you think of as yourself. When you find it, put it face down. Perhaps, next, you should find a card that reminds you of your situation. Whatever it is you are thinking about. Your ex, your lover, your job. Pick that card.”

“I don’t really know anything about Tarot cards,” the nervous man said.

“You don’t have to,” Owen told him, looking from the table, through the whole shop to the window that showed the tree veiled brick apartments of Bryn Mawr. Owen Dunharrow had no sympathy for nervous people, especially nervous men.

“Now are you done?”

“Yes,” the man stammered. “I think so.”

“You need to calm down,” Owen said, levelly.

“I’m just nervous. I’ve never done anything like this.”

“You’re having your cards read, not fucking a goat for the first time. Now, please, since you’ve already placed down two cards, without looking, withdraw four more.”

When the man picked them up, Owen repeated, “Without looking.

“Now take those four and the ones you withdrew, and let me see those two. And now shuffle them as best you can. And then give them to me.”

When the man was done, Owen laid them down smartly in the form of a cross, with two lain over each other at the axis.

“Alright,” Owen said, sounding satisfied for the first time, and rubbing his hands together. “Now take the first card up. The one in the middle.”

The man obeyed, and Owen ignored his trembling fingers, and said, “Now overturn the second.

“This is the Two of Swords. Truce, peace, and it is crossed by the Five of Swords—” not much of a surprise,Owen thought, “—which is worry. Now, turn over this one. Ah, the Four of Staves. And this is your past—”

The bell tingled as someone new came into the shop, and Owen looked up for only a moment. In a shop with constantly burning Nag Champa, amidst crystal orbs, skulls, bags of resin, herbs, frankincense, and myrrh, was the last woman Owen ever wanted to see, black haired, dark skinned, and as far as he was concerned, she could wait among the heavy tomes lining the wall until he was ready for her.

“Under the worry that crosses peace, that is the card you chose to represent yourself. Ah… the Chariot. And over it is the one you chose for your circumstances, Queen of the Earth, and—”

“Owen!” the woman called.

“Can it not wait?” Owen said.

“No.”

“It can wait,” Owen told her, and continued, “and your future, this is the Aeon. This is something unknown coming toward you. Largely it is unknown because it is raw potentials, due to become whatever you make of it. Now, I have given you the basic meaning, but, let us go and look a little deeper. Like, why did you choose the Chariot?”

“Owen,” the woman said again.

“I think,” the nervous man said, “you should just talk to her. I’ll still be here.”

Between Eve’s badgering and the man’s nerves, the reading was half botched anyway and Owen said, “Well, I will be back shortly,” and went to Eve.

“Who taught you manners?”

“My Grandfather.”

“Well, you could use a little reteaching. Come to the front of the shop.”

Eve shifted her purse over her shoulder.

“And by the way,” she said, when they stood between the shop window and the row of crystals on display, “don’t pretend that idiot needed as deep of a reading as you were about to give. You know half the shit in this shop is for—”

“Caution, cousin.”

“Is not for witches,” Eve rephrased what was about to come to her mouth.

“If I only catered to us, then there would be no business,” Owen said. “We are… notoriously cheap. And practical.”

“Good God, a seventy dollar orb,” Eve said, disdainfully. “And you know the bitch who’s going to buy it couldn’t scry to save her life.”

“I have a business that relies on a lot of silly white people with magical ambitions and no true ability,” Owen said. “Most of us do. Now tell me what you want, and then go to the house, make some tea and wait for me.”

“I can’t really stay.”

“Surely you didn’t come to the city just to ask me one question and walk out. Even your grandfather wouldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Well, he did.”

“Well you can still wait.”

“He wants the Azul.”

“My sword?” Owen said. “The sign of the clan? The clan he doesn’t belong to?”

“Well, that’s just it. Azul is your sword, and he needs your permission.”

“For what?”

Eve looked frustrated and sighed.

“He didn’t really say.”

“Then I’m really saying no.”

“Owen—”

“In fact, even if he did say, I would say no. Tell him no.”

“You know he doesn’t take no for an answer.”

“He does from me. He does all the time. Now go upstairs or go to the house and see Seth. Occupy yourself a minute while I finish with this man.”

Eve sighed again and stopped herself from whatever she’d been about to say then, as Owen turned to go back to his customer, he said, “By the way, Lewis is dating a vampire.”