Sings the Nightingale

BY: Kash

Disclaimer: Okay so this is technically my second attempt at a disclaimer...but I haven't improved any so I'm sorry....so anyway. I don't claim any of Laurell K. Hamilton's characters...I've just borrowed them very tempororarily...though I'd keep them forever if I didn't think that would upset any number of people....and I'm sure it would. So I don't claim them, they aren't mine, I'm not trying to profit from this story...or anything like that...its just for amusements sake...did I miss anything? Oh the character Seri, I do claim her...she's mine I tell you all mine.

Seri sighed as she looked out the window. It was raining. Again. It had been raining for the past two weeks. She hoped this wasn’t typical St. Louis weather. It was so gloomy, and in this part of town at least the streets were almost deserted, with only a few people chancing the rain. Of course it was also the middle of the afternoon, and it was the Vampire district. It was, excuse the pun, dead this time of day. With only the delivery vans, and cleaning people, preparing for the coming of night when the streets would fill to over flowing with people, for now though it was quiet.

Humans, Vampires, Lycanthrope, and who knew what else would be here in a few hours demanding entrance to the clubs and bars. Lately there had been an addition to the usual crowds. She didn’t like it; they didn’t feel right. They watched things too closely. Their gazes were always intently scanning the crowds, measuring. Something was brewing some trouble. She wondered if anyone else had noticed it.

She turned away from the window and padded barefoot across the room to her chair. It wasn’t her chair technically. Technically it was Asher’s. He was the manager after all, but he didn’t use it during the day. He’d kindly given her the use of it when he was…unavailable. He usually arrived at the club well after dark, for the obvious reasons.

That left her the office during the day. Of course she only used it rarely herself. Her job tended to keep her up nights. She usually came in about twice a week to review her schedules and to make herself available to any new talent seeking a venue. She liked to interview the new acts herself; she had a superb ear for music.

She smiled at that thought. She ought to know music she’d lived through most of its history…everything from pagan ritual music to Bach, and then advent of Rock and all the others that had come since. One might even say she was a walking music history lesson.

She shook her head trying to concentrate on the task at hand. She was staring at the play list for the up coming night, something was wrong with it. She wasn’t quite sure what, but she was sure it would come to her. She looked around the room. She loved this office. Maybe it was the color scheme. She’d always been fond of blue. The room had such a cool feel to it. Cool and calm. Two things she’d been searching for. Of course it was only an illusion, just a feeling created by the blues and silvers the room was done in. She wondered who had decorated it, not Asher, though it suited him perfectly. Like a tailor made setting. Whoever had decorated it knew Asher very well, and there was only one person who fit that description. Jean Claude.

That would seem odd to many. After all, Asher and Jean Claude had only been friends for barely the span of one human life, a very short human life at that. Others had known both for much longer periods of time, but none had known either as well as they knew each other. They were both extremely good at hiding both thoughts and emotions.

Of course that could be said of the majority of Master Vampires. It was a rather useful skill, and vampires by nature were forced to obey the laws of natural selection more closely then did humans. Only the strong survived or those they wished to sponsor. Those who were sponsored though, would probably rather have died. The price of a survival was high.

Perhaps it was different in other courts, not everyone was like the Council. She hoped that was true and not just wishful thinking on her part. If it wasn't then she was in a dangerous situation. Of course very few knew of her, at least to her knowledge. Then again she had no way of knowing who besides Padma knew of her existence, or if it would interest anyone if they did know.

She wasn’t certain how others would perceive her. If she was a threat, then she needed to know it. If not she needed to know if there were any collectors out there who would find it amusing to keep her as a pet. She didn’t want to be a pet…and she didn’t know what a person who considered her a threat would do, or if it mattered. She supposed that only time would tell, that was not a reassuring thought.

She wasn’t even sure what she was capable of to be perfectly honest. She’d never had to use her full power. It had been simple to kill the soldiers who’d destroyed her life, and she’d had the element of surprise when she’d killed Or’gandry. She’d spent most her life either running, or in a helpless state. She’d never really fought to protect herself. She was about to start though, she was tired of running, and she was tired of watching centuries pass while she remained glued to her perch singing at her masters whim.

She laughed, well she’d never actually sung at his whim. It had delighted her to do things to frustrate all Padma’s orders. Or’gandry had never tried to give her orders; he hadn’t thought a bird able of learning tricks. It wasn’t necessarily a bad life, but it wasn’t very entertaining either, and it was lonely, so extremely lonely.

She shook her head and looked back down at the list. None of that mattered right now, right now she had a job to do, and she was going to do it. She looked up when the door suddenly opened and a young blonde man stepped through it. He was wearing lots of leather…well actually he wasn’t really wearing a lot; it was just that the entire outfit appeared to be leather. There wasn’t very much of it though. The pants looked painted on, and had strategically placed holes. The top appeared to be strands of black leather loosely sewn together with each movement they shifted revealing a different portion of his skin.

It wasn’t that unusual actually. She worked at Danse Macabre after all, leather and lots of bare flesh seemed to the dress code most nights. He seemed vaguely familiar which wasn’t out of the ordinary either, there were still a lot of people who came in and out that she hadn’t yet memorized. She met his gaze with a questioning one of her own; it was very rare for anyone to disturb her here. She meet all the prospective bands in the clubs main area so she could hear them perform, and she’d never had anyone just walk in here before. She’d had a few scheduled appointments, but that was all.

He looked shocked to see her here too, which was odd. “Is there something I can do for you?” She asked pleasantly enough pasting on a big smile.

Jason froze at the sight of the child like girl sitting in Asher’s chair. It dwarfed her. She looked like a five year old playing pretend at her father’s desk. She was tiny. To begin with he had thought she was a child, and that had shocked him, what would a child be doing in Danse Macabre it made no sense. Of course she could have been a really old vampire, like Nicholaos, but she didn’t smell at all like a vamp.

She didn’t smell human though either. So now he just stood there frowning at her and wondering what and who she was. He had an idea as to the who, but the what was still giving him trouble. You’d think tagging along with Anita would have made some of her knowledge of the preternatural rub off on him, no such luck.

He’d narrowed down the field to animal, she smelled distinctly of some sort of animal, he just couldn’t decide which one, when she spoke, and her voice threw him for a loop. It was sort of like Jean-Claude’s; well in that it could do things to a person, send shivers up and down their spine. She could do that, but it didn’t have the same sensual quality.

Well it didn’t right then, perhaps she could do that with it too, but it did have a distinctly musical quality. It sounded as if she would be more comfortable singing arias rather than uttering mundane sentences. His eyes widened, the puzzle was getting more complex.

“I uhmm, who are you?” He asked after a lengthy silence. He watched her carefully looking for any more clues. He was fast becoming intrigued with the woman. She was a woman he knew the closer look had told him that much. Something about the set of her features and the way she held herself, it certainly wasn’t her physical appearance. That could have easily passed for that of a 15 year old in the most revealing of clothes and in anything less it could have managed much younger. The eyes though, they looked old, he couldn’t wait for Anita to meet her, so he could find out just how old that was.

Seri had waited patiently while the man gave her a once, then a twice and third over before speaking to her, she couldn’t refrain from rolling her eyes. After his stammered question she was forced to endure another long searching look. She wondered if she had suddenly sprouted another head, sure she got some attention, but really, the guy was utterly lacking in manners. Men frequently were she reminded herself. She managed not to shake her head and laugh at that thought; instead she answered his question.

“I’m Seri, I manage the music here.” She said lightly, whoever he was she didn’t think he was one of the waiters, and she didn’t want to offend anyone who could hurt her job. “Who are you?” She asked…job security only extended so far, and that question was less than friendly. Just a little less.

Jason took the time it took her to answer and ask her own question to study her a little more carefully. Besides he liked to look at females, as was a commonly known fact. He was a flirt and searching for the best approach was one of his hobbies. He was very tempted to respond to her question with ‘Who ever you want me to be,’ but that wouldn’t work and the last few years had taught him a thing or two about petite women and how dangerous they could be when provoked, and he wasn’t sure she’d take that as a provocation. He didn’t want to end up shot just because he had flirted with her; then again, living dangerously was his passion.

“Who do you want me to be?” He asked one eyebrow arching wickedly. He couldn’t help himself it was a compulsion maybe he should join a support group.

Seri’s posture automatically assumed the ‘I can’t believe the idiot just said that’ posture. This consisted of a very skeptical expression and her shoulders relaxing. He might not be a waiter but he certainly wasn’t anyone who you could remotely call in charge. “I’d prefer you be someone who will give me a straight answer.” She snapped back after giving him a disgusted look.

Jason smiled widely, oh she was feisty he liked that, and she was the new music coordinator, which meant that Asher had hired her. He wasn’t sure if that was because she was competent or such a tasty little number. Probably because she was competent, Asher wasn’t any fun.

No it couldn’t be that she was adorable in a fairy like manner. That wasn’t true she didn’t resemble any of the fairies he’d ever met, and he’d met a few…not a lot but enough to know she didn’t look like one. She did look sort of pixyish. Tiny little nose, eyes too big for her face and a cute little rosebud of a mouth and she was about as big around as a pipe cleaner. Cute was the perfect word to describe her. Except maybe the eyes, her eyes were deep clear pools of black. It was creepy actually looking into eyes that weren’t really there. Well they were there, but it didn’t look like they were. There was no white to her eyes just the black. He didn’t want to meet her gaze directly. It reminded him of a vampire’s, compelling.

“Jason, my name is Jason, and I’m here to see Asher.”

Seri sat up straighter when he mentioned being here to see Asher. Not because she was suddenly afraid he might be a threat to her job, but rather because she remembered the name Jason, he was Jean-Claude’s wolf, and he lived at the Circus. That was where Asher lived. If he wasn’t there and he wasn’t here, then where was he? It was broad daylight outside, where could he be? She looked up at Jason.

“He isn’t here, he left here around two this morning.” She said watching Jason’s face carefully.

Jason tried not to let any concern show on his face. Asher hadn’t come home this morning, and he wasn’t at Anita’s either, they had checked, and now he wasn’t here, besides that, there had been calls the past few weeks, and threats. They weren’t sure who was doing it, but this was not a good sign. Asher was a big vampire though and he could take care of himself. Maybe he’d been ambushed and was in a safe place for the day. Whatever the case Jean-Claude was not going to be pleased.

He nodded at her, then stepped further into the room and walked to the desk. “Mind if I use the phone?” He asked already picking it up and dialing Jean-Claude’s private number. It rang only twice.

Seri tensed as she watched Jason’s lips tighten, and his eyes hardened. Those were the only signs she had that something was wrong but it was enough. They didn’t know where Asher was. She wondered if now would be a good time to panic? No probably not, she’d have a nervous break down when they found him. Besides it was ridiculous for her to even want to panic, after all it wasn’t as if she and Asher were anything more then very casual friends. Just because she happened to remember his precise smell and had trilled at his caress once upon a time, he didn’t remember that and she had no intention of telling him about it.

She really needed to get a grip she was starting to crack up and her fingers digging claw marks into the smooth wood of the chair’s arms. She released them slowly taking deep breaths and listened while Jason told Jean-Claude that Asher wasn’t here either, and that yes he’d go and check, some place that he didn’t repeat aloud. Jason just nodded at her and left really quickly. Not a good sign.

Seri sat there for a long moment silently staring into space thinking. They wouldn’t think to ask for her help. Why would they, none of Asher’s friend knew her, she hadn’t met Jean-Claude here…she had known his company once upon a time. When he had served the council. He’d been one of many though, and while she had wept for him, he was little more then a living memory for her.

Maybe she was just partial to vampires that carried seed in their pocket just for her. Everyone has their turn-ons. Of course Jean-Claude hadn’t been in a position to do so. He’d been very low in the power hierarchy. Asher had been much higher when he had come, besides which few of the council wished him as a plaything. They preferred fresh meat, and with his scars he was not considered attractive by any save Yvette.




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