Woman King

CHAPTER 22

When I awoke the next morning, my first thought was that I would be seeing William that evening. We had been texting each other every day, but tonight would be our first opportunity to be alone since I tracked him down at the nightclub. The days had passed quickly, the campaign occupying an ever-greater portion of my attention. Now that Lacy was entering the race, I knew the pace of the campaign would accelerate, as we were forced to respond to any criticisms she might level against Levi in the press.

In anticipation of the deluge, my day was booked solid with meetings with our opposition research team to comb through her records and our own. Clients are often shocked that I ask them to pay for the privilege to dig up their own dirty laundry, but it is always better to know what your opponent will find before they find it.

I pondered these details for a few more moments as I got dressed and walked downstairs. When I reached the foot of the stairs, I caught a glimpse of Elsa in the living room in the middle of her usual morning ritual of yoga and stretching.

“Good morning,” I said softly, as I padded into the kitchen for espresso. I made her a cup of tea before walking back to the living room. “Do you want to come into the office today to listen in on these briefings?” I asked. “There may be something that turns up that interests you about Halbert and his demon.” Elsa was bent in a sun salutation and did not respond immediately. I set her mug of tea on the coffee table and waited patiently. There was no rushing a time-walker. Finally she came out of her pose and looked at me, grabbing the tea I’d made for her.

“I would like to get a good look at the demon if he comes around again,” she said.

I nodded. “You’re welcome to come with me wherever I go,” I said, pausing. I was about to say, “Except when I’m with William,” but I decided we were having too cordial a conversation to muddy the waters. “I mean, you can come with me whenever it interests you.”

“You were going to mention him,” she said, not bothering to use his name.

I smirked.

“Look, I wouldn’t ask to come on a date with you either,” I said, trying to make light of the situation.

Elsa made a quick sound of exasperation. “As if that is ever going to happen,” she said. “Besides, I often think I prefer the company of women to men,” she said.

“Are you saying that you’re a lesbian?” I asked, not really caring one way or another about her answer.

Elsa shook her head. “No, I bed men, but I am saying that after I’m finished, I prefer the company of women.”

I laughed. “Elsa, that is a very common sentiment among women, regardless of the century.”

We both finished getting ready and left the house together for the day. Elsa stayed with me for the majority of the briefings, but then left after receiving a call from Aidan. The two of them were spending an ever-increasing amount of time with each other. I began to wonder whether he was interested in Elsa for more than her experience with weapons. Given her lack of ability to read the bigger picture, I was certain she would never have a date in this century without some serious intervention on my part. I resolved to ask her more about it when I saw her next.

As I had predicted, the day flew by and I was able to make it back to my house to shower and change before the doorbell rang. I stood upstairs listening to the chimes. There was a vampire ringing my doorbell, something I could not have imagined a few short months ago. I quickly ran downstairs to open the door, delighted by the sight waiting for me. William was wearing faded Levi’s, a navy t-shirt and a brown cord jacket with a lamb’s wool lining. He wore a brown wool ski hat sat on top of his head, pulling his red hair close to his face. I didn’t imagine for a moment he was cold. I assumed he did it to fit in, since the night air was growing increasingly chilled as we approached winter.

“Come in,” I said as I opened the door wider. When he was inside, I shut the door and turned to kiss him. He pulled me into an embrace and kissed me deeply on the lips.

“Now that is much better than a text message,” he said, keeping me close to his body.

“Mmmm, I agree,” I said, enjoying his touch. We stayed in our embrace for a moment and then I pulled back and asked him if he would like a drink.

“No, thanks,” he said. “I thought would we take a detour someplace first before we start our official date, if that’s OK.”

“Sure,” I said. “What did you have in mind?”

“A friend of mine is having a jewelry show at a gallery on Polk Street,” he said. “I thought we might go and take a look.”

“OK,” I said. “Then are we going to the lake?”

William had a playful smile on his face. “Actually, I’d like to take a rain check on the lake. I have someplace else in mind I’d like to take you, if you’re up for a surprise.”

I didn’t really care about the destination as long as I was with him. “I’m game for a surprise,” I said, and opened the door to leave.

Hooks and Catches made its name as a gallery by featuring one of a kind handmade jewelry. Open since the 1970’s, it caters to women who do not want to run into their friends at social gatherings wearing the same necklaces and rings. Tonight they were debuting an exhibition entitled “Carbon Spot,” a term used to describe a black mark often found on copper coins. It was a play on words, since the exhibit featured several artists working with copper and gold, but there were no black smudges to be found.

We stopped at a table for a glass of wine, then began our tour of the gallery.

The first artist we encountered was William’s friend. She made necklaces featuring colored beads, cut glass, turquoise and copper charms. They were striking pieces, very primitive and provocative. One necklace in particular caught my attention. It was a mix of elements: a series of copper feathers, several strands of gray, smoky glass beads, and a small turquoise teardrop charm hanging from a ribbon of copper and brown leather woven together. I signaled to the owner of the gallery and asked if I could try on the necklace. He walked over to the case and pulled a small black velvet tray from a shelf underneath the counter. He carefully laid the piece on the tray, then placed a small handheld mirror in front of me. I glanced at the price tag. At $300, it was one of the more expensive objets d’art I had looked at in a while, but I had no reason to worry about money.

I tried on the necklace and stared at myself in the mirror. It was an unusual piece, and dressed in my current outfit, lent me a sort of a rebel image. I was trying to imagine wearing it with a suit and realized I probably would never have to worry about presenting myself that way again. I worked for the Council now. I wasn’t going to have to wear that conformist uniform. I must have drifted off in my thoughts because when I turned to ask William what he thought of the necklace, he was gone. I scanned the room and found him at the cash register handing the cashier his credit card.

He walked back toward me a satisfied smile on his face. “That necklace was made for you, darlin,” he said.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I said, feeling a little awkward at receiving such an expensive gift on a first date. “I can afford to buy it for myself.”

“I know that,” William said, fingering the necklace. “But my friend made the necklace and it suits you. It seems right that I would buy it for you. Besides, I am of the opinion that women should never buy their own jewelry. That is the purview of husbands, boyfriends and lovers.”

Before I could ask which category he fell into, William moved me along to the next set of glass cases, which were located in the main room of the gallery. There were three cases in the middle of the floor, all housing copper and gold bands that were embedded with sapphires, rubies and diamonds. As we circled the glass cases, I realized they looked suspiciously like wedding rings and I tried not to glance at any one ring too intently. Still, I couldn’t help myself when I came upon a set of three thin bands made of copper. The middle of the trio featured several sapphires. It was a beautiful piece, very romantic and old-fashioned, a bit like a sepia-tinged photograph. I concentrated on relaxing my facial features and clearing my mind. I didn’t want William to think I was getting ahead of myself.

Thankfully, as we approached the end of the cases, he said he was ready to leave. “OK, so now it’s on to my surprise,” I said, fingering the necklace hanging from my neck as we walked out of the gallery.

William did not reply immediately. He seemed to be looking for something. “There is a liquor store near here,” he said. “It’s called the Jug Shop, do you know it?”

“I do,” I said. “It’s one block up.”

We stopped by the store and picked up a bottle of wine. As we walked toward his car, we passed a cheese shop and William encouraged me to go inside and buy something for dinner. I didn’t like the idea of eating alone, but my stomach was grumbling. It had been hours since I’d had lunch, so I ordered a ham sandwich with butter on a baguette and grabbed an apple from a bowl near the cash register. William paid for my dinner and asked the clerk if he could have a small bag to carry the food. Soon we were back on the sidewalk, William carrying a petite brown paper bag with handles that said CHEESE DEPOT in one hand, while holding my hand with the other.

“I want to take you someplace special,” he said, glancing at me as he spoke. “Time is running out to see it, so we have to go tonight.”

“I’m all yours,” I said. “Let’s go.”

I glanced out the car window as we left Polk Street and crisscrossed the city, leaving downtown behind us in the rear view mirror. William drove the length of Valencia Street to Caesar Chavez and then on to Bayshore Boulevard. We were moving southeast toward the old Hunter’s Point Shipyards, where the Navy had once maintained a thriving base during World War II.

“Where are we going?” I asked, finally unable to control my curiosity.

“I’m taking you to a castle,” William said nonchalantly.

“A castle,” I said, “Here in San Francisco?”

“Yep, in fact, here we are.”

True to his word, we pulled up in front of a large compound that was hidden behind a massive stone wall. The wall was partially obscured in places by a number of very old oak trees. William leaned in front of me to open the glove box. He pulled out a set of keys and a small black flashlight. He kept the keys and handed me the Maglite.

“This is for you,” he said. “I can see in the dark, but you might need some help.”

I looked around, regarding the city’s skyline in the distance. We were in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but the pale light of a quarter moon to guide us. As we left the car, I focused my flashlight on the path ahead of us. It led to a gate shut tight with an enormous padlock. I shined the beam of the light on the lock, while William flipped through a set of keys and unlocked the gate.

“Welcome to Albion Castle,” he said, as we walked through the gate. “You’re now entering an official historic landmark. It was built in 1870 by a man named John Burnell, a Londoner who came to San Francisco to start his own brewery.”

“Why here? This is the middle of nowhere.”

“Good question. He wasn’t motivated by the landscape, he was compelled by something lurking beneath,” William said ominously, guiding us through the grounds toward the front door. When I shined the light on him, I saw that his face was animated in mock horror for good effect.

“Sounds spooky,” I said, giggling. “Maybe we should go in so you can give me the tour.”

The set of keys jangled in William’s fingers as we stood in front of a massive wooden door with its ornate metal fixtures. He quickly opened the door and led me inside. I ran a beam of light around the perimeter and caught a glimpse of an enormous main hall with vaulted ceilings and wooden crossbeams. A scattering of furniture had been left behind in the room, an old couch with a sheet draped over it, a few rickety chairs and an large oval mirror, still hanging on a wall.

“Don’t move,” William pleaded, disappearing into the dark. I heard his footsteps, then a drawer opening and the strike of a match against its igniter strip. He returned, illuminated by the light of a large candle. He looked every inch the vampire tonight, pale and shimmering in the light of the taper. He had taken off his hat in the car and now his red hair gave off an amber glow from the lit flame. For the moment, I felt utterly human, and was struck by the difference in our situation. He could walk through the dark without assistance. It made me uneasy, and though I tried to brush it aside, my throat tightened with a feeling of doubt. What was I doing here alone with a vampire?

William must have sensed my uneasiness because he quickly handed me the candle and left to retrieve several more. Soon we were sitting on the floor, a sea of candles of various sizes illuminating the room. “Don’t be alarmed,” he said, gently. “I know it’s weird that I can see in the dark, but we’ll hardly ever be in these kinds of situations. I’m not so different from you, really.”

With the room half-lit with candles and my sandwich and the wine laid out on the floor, my survival instincts retreated. It seemed silly to have been so alarmed and I tried to put it behind me. “I’m fine,” said. “For a moment in the dark, it was a little unsettling.” We sat for a few minutes and had a glass of wine. I wasn’t feeling all that hungry, so I asked if we could take a tour. William smiled, clearly happy to oblige.

“I read in a real estate blog today that the castle has been sold,” he told me as we walked into the gardens. “I know the caretaker for the property, so I asked if we could pay a visit tonight before the new owner takes possession.”

We crossed the grounds, coming to a small gate that opened on to a set of steps. The steps led to an underground passage, which in turn, led into a series of caverns, some of which were filled with water. “What’s with all the water?” I asked, feeling slightly claustrophobic underground.

“It’s the reason Burnell came. The castle sits on an underground spring. It has its own source of water,” William said, clearly delighted to be sharing this with me.

I raised my flashlight and let the beam of light skim the top of the pools of water. Burnell had carved deep stone pools hundreds of feet beneath the castle to collect water from the springs. Each pool was adorned with a lion’s head, its mouth slightly open. It was a gothic spectacle and although certainly a noteworthy feat of engineering, I couldn’t see how it could ever be anything but unsettling down here, trapped beneath the surface. The room was damp, the air thick and rank smelling. I shuddered, overcome again with an unaccountable feeling of discomfort, perhaps a reaction to the energy trapped beneath in this long-forgotten place.

William gently took my hand and pulled me away. “Come on,” he said, a tinge of disappointment in is voice. “This place is bothering you. I can feel it.”

It didn’t take us long to retrace our steps and return to the main room. We sat down once again at our makeshift picnic, me with my sandwich and apple and he with a glass of wine.

“Well, this did not turn out to be the best first date ever,” William said, as we sipped our wine. “Sorry, darlin, I generally try not to alarm my companions within the first few minutes of our outing. I’ll try harder next time.”

I let out a long breath and laughed. “It’s OK, I’m fine,” I said, touching his hand with mine. “Why did you decide to bring me here?”

“This castle is almost as old as I am,” he said. “I have visited here a few times over the decades, invited to parties by various artists who have owned the property. Now though, an anonymous buyer has purchased it out of probate court. Who knows what the new owner will do.”

“Why did they stop selling beer,” I asked.

“Prohibition. All of the breweries in San Francisco shut down,” he said. “After that, it sort of languished. It was also the site of a spring water company, but the main house and grounds were neglected. As I said, a few artists have owned it through the years, but mostly it’s been abandoned, a relic out of sync with the times.”

“Maybe you should buy it,” I said. “Then you could fix it up.”

“I wish I had known it was on the market. I might have. Then I could have built you a castle.”

I took a sip of my wine. “I’m not sure I’m regal enough to live in a castle,” I said. “I might be more of a barn or bungalow kind of gal.”

“I don’t see it that way at all,” he said and then stood up abruptly grabbing my hand. In his other hand he held a candle as he led me to the mirror that had been left hanging on the wall.

“Look at your reflection,” he said, gently cupping my chin in his palm. “I have scanned thousands of faces in my time, Olivia. You were meant to be a leader. It’s etched in every line of your face.”

We were inches apart from each other as he spoke. No one had ever said anything like that to me. I wasn’t sure how to respond. As usual, my emotions around William were a mess. I was worried about how vulnerable I’d felt earlier. I was agitated by the energy of the building, and yet so desperate to feel his touch. In the end, I decided to say nothing. Instead, I stood up on my top toes and kissed him gently on the lips.

“Thank you,” I whispered, bringing my lips back for a second kiss.

This time though, he was ready and kissed me back passionately.

We were combustible elements, alone in a 140-year-old castle with nothing but a bottle of Côtes du Rhône and some lit candles for company. Once we began kissing, neither of us wanted to break the connection, sinking onto the floor where we had been standing. My doubts quickly disappeared, replaced instead by unbridled lust.

William had managed to quickly remove my jacket and t-shirt, leaving only my bra covering my upper body. The cold air hit me and caused me to shudder. He ran his kisses down my neck and across my collarbone. He used his fingers to explore, eventually arriving at my breast and moving aside the lace of my bra. We both gasped as his fingers made contact with my nipple. The differences in temperature made the experience both excruciating and delicious. I was overheated, and William’s mouth and the air around us were cool as he explored my body. The sting of the cold was both unbearable and pleasurable. I shivered and moaned, bucked and arched. I felt inconsolable and insatiable. Our kisses were long, luxurious affairs. Cradled in his arms, my body felt strangely like one of his guitars, being played fret-by-fret, note-by-note, transformed into a beautiful song.

Somehow we’d managed to overcome the awkwardness of the evening and recover our connection to one another. I should have been content to stay that way for a long while, but for some reason a practical thought popped into my head. I hadn’t told William of my work with the Council. As much as I wanted this to turn into something more, I didn’t want to get too much farther in our entanglements without telling him. I had a nagging feeling that he would want to know. With regret, I broke our kiss and placed my hand between us. William looked down at my hand and smiled.

“Am I going to fast for you this time?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No, but I think I need to tell you something before we get more, um, involved—it was the only euphemism I could think of at that moment. We separated and I grabbed my shirt, suddenly chilled by his absence.

“OK,” he said, cautiously. “You have my attention.”

“Do you remember when you told me that Elsa’s arrival was unusual, and that it probably meant I was about to do something important?” He nodded, an inscrutable look set on his face.

“You were right. She introduced me to an organization called the Council. Do you know it?”

William nodded, his face registering a hint of surprise. “I do, but finish your story first.”

“Not long after I started training with her, Elsa introduced me to Gabriel Laurent, the current director. He told me that it was rare for a human to have such acute skills and offered me a job. I told you I’m running a political campaign, but I didn’t tell you that it was Gabriel who helped me get the job.” His silence caused me to ramble on a bit. “Anyway, it seemed important to tell you about my connection. You say you know about them? I don’t know much about how life works for Others. Is the Council something everyone knows about?”

“You must be the first human to ever work for the Council, or at the very least, one of the few ever asked,” he said. “Congratulations, Olivia. It’s quite an honor.”

It didn’t sound as if he was thrilled. “Why don’t you like the Council?”

William did not reply immediately; he seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “I suppose we could offer each other the same apology,” he said. “I also once worked for the Council.”

“Once, as in past tense,” I said. “You don’t now?”

“I haven’t been in contact for some time,” he said. “It never occurred to me that Elsa would lead you to them. I didn’t see that connection coming. It’s funny, I didn’t think that part of my past would come up for some time.”

“And now?” I asked, sensing that he was holding something back.

“Now, I suppose I should tell you a little bit more about myself,” he said. “But first, let’s get out of here. We can talk on the way back to your house.”

I’d always heard the advice that couples should not discuss work in bed, and now I could see why. Reluctantly I got up from the floor, dressed and followed William to his car. Once we were inside, he started to speak.

“I know the Council. Remember, darlin, my father was a U.S. Army officer. He had a deep sense of honor and patriotism that did not die when he became a vampire. I was no different; perhaps it’s why he and I lived so easily together over the decades. As I’ve told you, after I was reborn we left for Paris. We arrived in 1863, long after cholera, the Revolution and even the Prussian Army had ravaged its citizens. We managed to live in relative peace for many years, watching the Eiffel Tower rise along the way as a part of the World’s Fair. Finally though, the whims of humans caught up with us.

“When World War I began,” he continued. “My father wanted us to join the Allied forces—France and Britain—against Germany. He felt a deep loyalty to the French for their assistance in the Revolution. He convinced me to become involved, to support France. I was not a full-fledged French citizen. I had no papers to enlist. I found the perfect solution in the American Ambulance Corps. The United States had not yet joined the war in 1916, but money was pouring in to support the Allies.

A group of men founded a volunteer ambulance service to help reduce the distance injured soldiers had to travel from the Western Front. My father went back to America to see what he could do to hasten their entry into the war, but the United States had little appetite for getting involved,” William said, pausing for a moment. “How much do you know about the war?”

“The obvious details,” I admitted.

“It was horrific, I can tell you,” he said. “Humans are so fragile. These men were living in enormous trenches that were damp and filled with the blood of the dead. I could smell the rotting bodies for miles.”

“You must have realized the value of your work,” I said. “You were able to withstand things a human couldn’t.”

“I might have seen the value, if I had witnessed a shred of common sense from the generals. It was so similar to the Civil War; man upon man massacred, as if humans could be reproduced indefinitely. On any given day, France easily sacrificed 60,000 men. Russia lost more than one million solders. Over and over the generals sent their men to slaughter, often never moving their lines more than a foot or two in the process. And here I was, racing to drive these mangled young men, many younger than myself, to a hospital so they could be patched up and sent back out on a fool’s errand.”

“I don’t understand, William. How does the Council fit into this?”

“One evening I was out in the forest near Lille hunting for something to eat when I came across a group of men traveling in the cover of darkness. They were like me. There was another vampire, a werewolf and a powerful witch. His name was Pierre Laurent; Gabriel’s great-grandfather. Pierre recognized what I was immediately, and asked me what I was doing in the area. I told him about the ambulance corps. He in turn told me he would find more drivers to assist.

“The next day he arrived with additional drivers, including himself. Over those days and weeks, he slowly introduced me to the Council and its mission. The war was not supposed to be the Council’s main focus, but no one wanted to sit by while the human leadership of the world worked to slowly kill off an entire generation of young men.”

“And then what happened?” I asked. “Did you continue to work for them?”

William didn’t reply immediately. He was looking out the window and at first I thought he would not answer me.

“I did,” he said after a while. “I spent many years working for them, traveling back and forth between the United States and Europe. Eventually I quit.”

“Why? Why did you stop?”

“I stopped because I began to feel that humans deserved their own fates. I started to believe that our intervention was a wasted effort.”

By now we had reached my house and William had pulled into the driveway, letting the car idle while we spoke. I thought of inviting him in, but didn’t think he would accept the invitation. I knew I had to choose my next words carefully.

“Look, I’m not sure yet what this is all about, but it sounds like you made a difference during the war. We don’t always have a choice in the bigger decisions that are made, but you helped save lives and reduce suffering. My job isn’t nearly as important, but I am trying to do something helpful. I am trying to ensure that good people get elected. People who will work toward fewer wars, and more opportunities for stability and prosperity.”

William shook his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t see it that way. The Council gives your candidate an advantage. I know the Laurent family; they are powerful witches who can bend people to their will. You are highly empathic and probably a little telepathic, you know what the crowd wants and you can help make sure they get it. As far as I’m concerned, you are changing the fate of another human being. Maybe he isn’t meant to be elected to office, maybe humans deserve to live with electing the wrong person.”

Now it was my turn to object. “I don’t see it that way,” I said, repeating his words to me. “Levi is a good person, I can’t make him into that. I’m not deceiving voters. I’m making sure Levi communicates to the best of his ability.”

“And what if the voters want a war monger or a racist?” William asked sharply.

“Then I can’t help them,” I said, confused about our discussion. “What is it you really object to, William? I’m not controlling the minds of voters. I am listening to them and helping Levi win by really connecting with people. Not by making up catchy slogans or sowing fears about far-off dangers that may never happen.”

“I object because I don’t think we should meddle in the lives of humans, period,” he said. “They are incapable of learning from history. They are incapable of resisting their worst urges for power. They should be left alone to their own devices.”

Our conversation had certainly hit a wall. I needed to put some distance between us. “One thing about humans you should probably remember,” I said as I reached for the car door to get out, “is that I am one, and I don’t have such a poor vision of our collective destiny as you do. So I’ll say good night. I’d say thanks for a lovely evening, but I wouldn’t want to say something trite because I think that’s what you want to hear.” I slammed his car door and turned to walk away. I was barely up the walkway when he reached me, his quick vampire reflexes giving him the advantage of speed.

“Olivia, I’m sorry,” he said. “That was a lot to drop at your feet.”

“I can see you have strong feelings about the Council,” I said. “The question is whether they are stronger than your feelings for me.”

William frowned. “I thought we were having a discussion, Olivia. Can’t I express my opinion?”

“I don’t know. Can you do it without making me feel like a carny sideshow?”

William let out a sigh. “I am sorry. Years of living alone can do that to you,” he said. “I will try to be more careful with my opinions.” He walked me the rest of the way to my door and kissed me good night.

I went inside, tossing my keys and purse on the floor. As I laid my head against the door, I wondered how it could be that after everything I had experienced recently I could still be so naïve. What did I think William had done with all of the years of his life? He had died as a soldier in America’s bloodiest conflict, and been reborn a vampire. The tattooed angel on his back made more sense now. It was astonishing to think I had been sitting in the car with someone who walked the fields of Belgium in 1916. I had a connection to the world’s history…the only problem was, he didn’t seem to have emerged with a very good opinion of the human race.

I decided I would try not to take it personally