The Medium

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

The man seemed nice at first. At least, comparatively. Lenny was aware of him as soon as he walked in, pulled like a compass needle by a subtle attraction that left him both disoriented and disconcerted. It wasn’t something he felt often in Abilene, but there would be others in a larger city like Austin. The man snagged the barstool next to Lenny’s and shoved his glass across the counter, asking for “One more, please.” Lenny sipped his drink and silently prepared his polite apologies.

“You’re new around here.” The man didn’t make it a question, but his voice rose at the end.

“Only for the w-weekend. I’m leaving t-t-tomorrow.” Lenny hoped the man would understand that he wasn’t trying to trespass on his territory, wasn’t poaching. A glance through the smoky light showed him an enormous shoulder, and beyond that a head of close-cropped black hair. He couldn’t see much of the face, except that it was smooth, angular. There was a sense of something familiar as well, though Lenny couldn’t place it. Another man stood a couple of steps away, pale and washed-out, staring across the bar. He faded in and out like the smoke on the air. A ghost. Lenny tore his eyes away and back to his solid companion.

“Oh, shame. Thought I might’ve finally had a neighbor.” There was a pause. “Wanna go do something anyway? I could show you my side of Austin.”

Lenny knew exactly what the man had in mind and tried not to show his nerves. “No, thanks. I’m g-going to want a full night’s sleep. Still haven’t p-packed or anything.” It was a true excuse, at least. Even if that had been his idea of fun, he really did have other things to do. The man caught on and didn’t press.

“Where are you going back to?”

Lenny finished off his drink, making the ice in the bottom rattle against the glass. “Abilene. I’m Lenny, by the way.”

“Sebastian. And I’m from” —he gestured vaguely with his beer— “over there. A couple of blocks down. If you’re interested.”

It occurred to Lenny at that point that he might have miscalculated. It sounded like he was being hit on. It was uncomfortable, even if it was theoretically flattering. “L-look, I’m sorry, but I really, really h-have to—”

“No, that’s fine. I get it. You have to pack.” Sebastian’s voice was disappointed, lonely.

Lenny felt for him, but hardly enough to agree to a hookup, or whatever it was Sebastian wanted. He knew what loneliness was like, though. He knew what it was to be surrounded by people who had no idea, who couldn’t share his experience, and he knew that if Sebastian was a killer, it was only because he couldn’t help himself.

They talked. Sebastian was from Spain. He’d been in Austin for a couple of decades, and Mexico City before that. He was making a living in hypnotherapy, making desperate people stop smoking.

“I’m good at it,” he said. He winked, in case he hadn’t been understood.

“I bet. Me, I’ve never been g-good at that. I’m in town for the conference. Texas Science T-t-t-t-teachers’ Association. It’s a good job, steady, if you lay low. Anyway, hitting the seminar c-came with a little bonus, so I figured…”

Sebastian tipped his head to one side and nodded thoughtfully. “You know, I could help you with that stutter. I do traditional, too. No tricks.”

And there it was.

Lenny must have made a face, because Sebastian laughed and threw his hands up in a peace gesture, sliding back from the table they had taken. His laugh was contagious. Lenny had to grin.

“Or not! Sorry, just, y’know, it’s what I do. Gotta be good at something, right?”

“It’s okay. Sorry, I’ve just g-gotten more advice than I ever wanted in the p-past three d-d-days. So you help people? That’s a little… unusual.” There was no way to make that sound inoffensive, but Lenny figured he would understand. It was unusual. He tried to quell the stutter, but it didn’t work.

Sebastian shrugged. “Like I said, gotta be good at something. I do what I’m good at. It pays the bills, anyway. Well, some of them. Keeps me busy, too. You don’t know how boring it can get, with nothing to do. Anyway, it’s my thing.”

He leaned forward, propped his elbows on the table, and rested his chin on his fists, looking at Lenny curiously.

“What’s yours?”

“My…?”

“Your thing. There’s something different about you. It’s magnetic.”

Lenny remembered when it had almost sounded like Sebastian was trying to invite him back to his place. He tried hard to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound harsh and wouldn’t encourage him, either.

“Um, science t-teacher? Physics? Um… magnets, I mean? Heh? Get it? Science?”

Sebastian smirked, shook his head, and rolled his eyes. His eyes were brown, dark mahogany. “I’m serious. I felt it as soon as you walked in here.”

Lenny didn’t like having that conversation, either, the one where he explained that connection he had with dead things and how it wasn’t as cool as it sounded. No one had ever described it as magnetic, before, but it was the same thing that had brought Kate to him all those years ago, and it seemed to kick in the most when the dead person really, really needed help. Another thing about being a medium—he had to help when he could. He didn’t have any choice. But there wasn’t much he could do about loneliness.

Lenny shook his head, and Sebastian sat back again, crossing his arms over his chest. His arms were huge. So was his chest.

“You mean you don’t know?” he asked. There was an edge in his voice. Not fear, exactly, but nerves. He didn’t understand.

But there was no way Lenny was having that conversation in a crowded hotel bar with a stranger, even a stranger who needed help, so he smiled and shrugged.

Sebastian shrugged back, enormous shoulders rising once, and he grabbed his glass and stood up. He was big sitting, but he was even bigger standing.

“Refill?” he asked. “On me.”

“Thank you?”

Lenny watched him retreat back to the bar, and he thought about leaving quietly. He hurt for Sebastian and his loneliness, he really did. But that strange thing the Spaniard felt and couldn’t understand… Lenny felt it too, when he tried to think around his two beers and a whiskey.

The problem was that Lenny felt it from the other end of things. Sebastian was isolated, sinking, in desperate need of a hand to pull him back up; that was just a fact. He was also stained. Lenny could feel the faint echoes of every death he’d caused, and in his whole life, he had never been in a room with someone who felt like that. Most vampires killed like animals—for food, for self-defense, for territory. Lenny didn’t like that, but he could deal with it. He didn’t have another option but to deal with it. No one could call animals evil for killing things. Maybe Sebastian had his reasons. Maybe he’d had a lot of bad luck. Maybe it was cathartic, his way of dealing with his problems. Lenny doubted it, though. It was too much for an animal. Sebastian killed like a madman.

But madmen need help, sometimes, too. Lenny sat still and waited for him to come back, hoping he didn’t look as on edge as he was starting to feel. He may not have been exactly the standard model, but he was also not human. He and Sebastian were kindred. At least, in theory.

Sebastian set a glass in front of Lenny and sat back down. His expression was calm again, faintly smiling. He shot back half of his drink.

“You ever been to Amarillo?”

“C-couple of times.”

“You know Tony and Edith?”

Lenny took a sip of his drink and shook his head. “Not well. I went through all the channels when I moved to T-texas. Met them once, then. They sent me a welcome b-basket.”

“No? Well, they don’t like me much.” He grinned. “You know anybody I might know? We gotta have some friends in common.”

The tone of that question struck Lenny as a bit off, but he shook his head again. “It’s just me in Abilene. I don’t t-travel much.”

“Oh…” His expression went blank, but then he raised an eyebrow. “That’s got to be boring. Who’s your progenitor?”

Lenny hated that word. It was a gross word, one that would describe an amoeba better than it described a person. But there had never been enough vampires to make an impact on language evolution, and humans have never needed a better word for that concept.

“Kate Charles. She’s been g-g-gone a while.” He took a sip, then knocked the rest of it back. This felt like an interrogation, but he had no idea what Sebastian was getting at.

Sebastian made a face. “Doesn’t ring a bell. Guess you don’t get out much, huh?”

“I g-get out. I just like it when it’s t-t-time to go home.”

Sebastian leaned forward suddenly, elbows on the table, and Lenny looked up to find him well inside his personal space, the other man’s gaze fixed steadily on his face. His fingertips were numb.

“Come on,” Sebastian coaxed. His voice was low and slick. It vibrated too fast for Lenny to catch hold of his words. “What’s your deal? This is mine, so you know. I told you I was good at it.”

Nothing, he insisted, but what came out of his mouth was “Medium.” Sebastian’s eyes were stunning, figuratively and literally. Lenny felt frightened. Then he stopped feeling anything.

“Dead medium. That’s a new one.” Sebastian smiled, pressing steepled fingers against his lips.

The sound of his voice was enthralling. It had so many layers, so many other voices inside, making Lenny feel tiny. He knew what was happening, in a remote, detached way, and he tried to stop listening, to look away. But Sebastian was good at it, and the first thing the good ones do is make you want to listen, make you want to get lost and listen.

“Bet you could show me some fun tricks, huh? I’ve never had a medium, before. And just you in Abilene, all alone… No one to miss you.”