Robert Crane - Soulless

There was a knock on my door and when I looked through the peephole, Charlie grinned back at me, her smile overlarge and distorted by the glass as though I were looking at her in a funhouse mirror. Her cutoffs and tank top were gone, replaced by a red dress not unlike the one I had seen her wear when we first met, something with very little length and quite a bit of cleavage exposure. I tried to smile, but inwardly grimaced as I opened the door. “Hey.”

“Hay is all around us; this whole damned place is a farm town.” She made a slight gyration, as though she were dancing to music only she could hear. “What do you say we go find a couple cowboys to while away the dull hours with between now and morning?”

“Sounds like a great idea,” I said. “Because we don’t have enough carnage on our hands already without killing a couple of poor locals that are just out for a good time.”

“It’s not about killing,” she said in a soothing voice, “it’s about having some fun. Unwinding.” Her smile was oddly infectious. “You’ve been watching these vegetables all day. You need to get out and let loose. Have the other guy watch them for a while.” She strolled over to Scott and brushed his cheek with her hand, letting it linger a moment longer than I would have, and a slight shudder ran through her body. “Ooh. Is he a Poseidon type? Tastes like the ocean to me.”

“Tastes?” I’m pretty sure my face was locked into disbelief. “You touched him.”

“Yeah, it’s a sense you start to develop with maturity.” I felt a rough swell of annoyance as she walked to the other side of the bed and let her hand drift onto to exposed cheek of Kat. “Mmmm. Persephone type? If you ever get a chance – you know, maybe tangling with one that’s a ‘bad guy’,” she used air quotes, driving my eyebrows up almost to my bangs, “you need to take a drink of a Persephone. They are double yum.”

I closed my eyes and felt a throbbing in my temple. “I know you did not just suggest that I drain—”

“A bad one,” she said, her voice suddenly higher. “I’m saying that if you run across a bad one cuz I know how focused you are on that sort of thing, catching ‘bad guys’ – you should definitely drain them dry, because they are all kinds of tasty, let me tell you.” She did a pirouette and came around the bed, then brushed my hair out of my eyes, careful not to touch my face. “Come on, get the other guy and get ready. We need to go out, niece.”

I sighed. “Go out where?”

She leaned her head in close to me and gave me a mischievous smile. “The bar, here in the hotel.”

“I went to a bar last night. It didn’t end well. I almost killed some guy.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Was he cute?”

I felt a pang as I remembered, not for the first time in the last few hours, that I had broken up with Zack only this morning. And had kissed James last night. “Yes. He very much was.”

“Sounds worth it to me.” She looked me up and down. “You change and get ready, I’ll go knock on the other guy’s door and get him to watch the kids.” She turned and headed for the door.

“His name is Reed, you know.”

She waved a hand carelessly behind her as she walked out. “I’ve already forgotten it again.”

I stood there in the middle of the floor for about ten seconds, pondering my options. I could sit in my room, avoiding the horror that was drunkenness, the searing pain of a hangover and the loss of judgment that resulted from it, or stay here and stare at the walls. I had almost convinced myself that that was the wisest course, the soundest of ideas, when Zack wandered across my mind again, and I realized he’d be doing that for the rest of the night – just like he had been all day – and I’d have only the unconscious bodies of my two colleagues to keep me company.

There was a knock at the door, and when I looked through the peephole, it was Reed, looking a little cross.

“Your aunt just told me to get my ass over here and watch over two sleeping Directorate agents,” he said, nonplussed. “You can’t be serious.”

“I need to get out of here for a while,” I said. “We won’t be gone long.” I started toward the door, my bag on my shoulder, intending to go to my own room, which I hadn’t yet seen.

“What am I supposed to do if they wake up?” He looked at me in near astonishment, mouth slightly agape.

“If Kat wakes up first, explain the situation to her,” I said. “It’s not like you haven’t met before.”

“And if he wakes up first?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Get creative.”

I closed the door, which muffled his reply. I’m pretty sure it was a curse, and I’m equally sure I didn’t care. I went to my room and took a shower, a long one. When I was done, I dressed in a slightly looser suit, the most comfortable one I’d brought with me, straightened my hair and applied some makeup. When I came out of the bathroom, Charlie was waiting, lying on the bed, watching TV. She perked up when she saw me, and I stared at her, question on my face.

“They gave you a spare key,” she said. “I pocketed it when you handed me the packets. Figured I might need it later.” She smoothed her dress, which didn’t show even a sign of wrinkling, and smiled at me. “Ready to have some fun?”

“Sort of.”

“But not too much fun, because that’s probably against a Directorate rule of some kind.”

She dragged a little smile out of me with that one, and we were off. We crossed the lobby, an open air, ornate space with leather couches and decor that looked like it might be just as appropriate in a manor house as it was here. As we walked, I couldn’t help but notice heads turn to watch Charlie. Male heads. Lots of them.

We bellied up to the bar, and after I’d shown my ID, the bartender, a skinny guy this time, asked us what we wanted.

“What do you think, daahhhhhling?” Charlie said it with an exaggerated English accent, like she was a duchess or something.

Why break a winning tradition? I only knew one kind of drink, anyway. “Whiskey Sour.”

The bartender nodded and Charlie said, “Make it two.” He walked off.

“So,” I said. “What now?” I swiveled on my stool to take in the whole place. It was Sunday night, and there weren’t too many people around. There was a cluster of guys dressed professionally in the corner, ties loosened, sleeves rolled up, lots of laughing going on. I caught a furtive glance from a couple of them at Charlie, who, unlike me, was facing away from the bar and leaning back, her legs crossed and cool indifference beneath her slight smile.

“Now, my dear,” she said after a long pause, “we have fun.” The bartender set her glass at her elbow and she grabbed it, slow and smooth. “Keep ‘em coming.” She pressed it against her lips as she stared at the guys in the corner, taking a long, measured drink.

I picked up my whiskey and felt the chill of it in my hand, then took a sip. It still gave my mouth an involuntary spasm, but not as bad as the night before. I almost enjoyed it this time. It burned, though. I took another, and when I finished, I caught Charlie looking sidelong at me with amusement. “First time?” she asked.

“Second. I did this last night, too.”

“Ah.” She finished her drink and signaled to the barman. “It’s my second time, too.” Her eyes fixated on the guys in the corner. “Tell the bartender to send my drink over there.” She blinked, then looked at me as though she’d forgotten me somehow. “Actually, just come with me; he’ll figure it out.”

I looked over at the men she was talking about. Not a one of them was under thirty, and I doubted more than one of them was under forty. “I, uh…think they might be a little out of my age demographic.”