good & evil

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The night I met him, Vanessa lied to me.

"Girl," she said. "About time you returned. I've been so miserable this past week without you. I had nobody to bitch with, nobody. Don't you ever get food poisoning again, okay?"

I saluted, with a grin. "Nossir."

We'd both been working here at Anker's, a large pub in Soho, for the last couple of years. Although the job meant long sleepless nights and occasional encounters with drunks, it was nothing we couldn't handle. 

And we needed the money -- Vanessa was a struggling uni student and I was a firefighter trainee at the Royal Park Fire Station in London. She was nineteen, the same age as me. Thank badness we'd hit it off right from the start.

"Would you mind fetching some clean glasses from the kitchen, Rae?" Vanessa asked, flopping down on a stool. "Mrs T. wants me to go over the accounts."

She didn't have a clue about my true nature, of course. None of them did, maybe except for Mum's worshippers, I guess. And I wasn't sure if even they thought we were just nutters. 

"Course," I said. "I reckon that woman still can't believe her luck, having a Mathematics student for an employee."

Vanessa chuckled. "It sure comes in handy for her." She stared up at me a few seconds later, astonished. "You back already? How's that even possible, Rae? You got powers or what?"

Oops. 

I hadn't been discreet enough, again. It tended to happen whenever I was in a rush.

I forced an airy laugh. "I wish."

Little did Vanessa imagine that she'd hit the nail on the head. 

Supernatural speed is one of the upsides of having demonic genes, you see. 

"So, how have things been around here this week? Anything interesting to report?" I asked, trying to look like a normal-ish person and willing myself to stay still.

I was feeling cooped up and in need of a run, as a matter of fact; this morning's training session at the fire station had been rather light for my taste. 

"Doesn't it ever bother you, possibly not having enough muscle for the job? You're only a small chick, after all, Carrows," my fellow (male) trainees usually said.

I was smaller than the majority of students. But as a demon, I was one of the fastest runners too.

I'd always excelled at sports in school. I'd joined the after-school athletics club and had won all the races in PE. I collected all the tacky plastic trophies, which I'd proudly arrange on the shelves in my bedroom. It was the one thing that kept the bullying slightly at bay.

So it made sense when, fresh out of high school, I'd summoned courage and announced to my parents I wanted to enrol in the fire academy.

Let me just say that they hadn't been too pleased about it.

"Firefighter?" they asked, in dismay. "But – won't you have to – rescue people? Find lost cats? That sort of thing. Isn't it too ..." -- a hint of embarrassment in their voices --"selfless? We've talked through this before, dear. Maybe you should try your hand at something else?"

"Like what?" I muttered. "You don't want me to be a vet either."

I'd longed to be a vet since I was eight and my neighbour Sophia had had me over for tea at hers one day after classes. Her elderly Yorkshire terrier Rudolph had sprung off the sofa, knocked down a lamp, and broken his leg.

We'd both burst into hysterical tears and had run all the way to the nearest vet's. The vet had cleaned the wound and tenderly bandaged the dog's leg; Sophia had felt dizzy at the sight of blood and had to wait outside, but I'd marvelled at it. I wanted to be like that, I decided. I'd be like that one day, skilled and gentle and wise.

Guess what? My parents said a huge, fat, adamant No.

Mum pointed a finger at me, gun-like.

"That – empathy of yours," she said, in a low, disgusted voice, as if she were being forced to say a particularly vulgar swear word. "I don't understand where it's coming from. We didn't raise you to be like that, Rae. And please don't go on repeating those things in public." With other demons, I guess she meant. "It might cause a few raised eyebrows."

"You could try politics, perhaps?" Dad suggested. He grinned. "Cheat, steal, lie, repeat. Nice and simple."

I hadn't wanted to disappoint them. How could I, when I owed everything to them? I'd duly applied to Birmingham University for a double major in History and Politics, but I'd found it so unspeakably dull I'd dropped out after the first semester.

No, if I couldn't be a vet, I'd be a firefighter. Much as I loved my family, they'd have to put up with it.

I blinked back to reality. I took a handful of coins from a dreadlocked guy, then handed a beer over to him. It was barely nine o'clock, and the bar was already crowding with people.

"Things here?" Vanessa shrugged. "Same ol', same ol'."

She was lying. Blatantly so. I noticed the excited little gleam that danced in her brown eyes. Her hands were rapping on her thigh, restless, and her Vans trainers swung to and fro.

I knew then, without a doubt. Something was up.

I could hardly hear her over the din. Live music nights were always a success, but tonight was different, somehow. I could feel it in the glowing faces that surrounded us, in the warm stench of sweat and cigarettes. In the loud laughter. The crowd throbbed like one single, expectant being.

"Vanessa?" I asked. "What's going on tonight?"

She smiled at me then, a wicked, gap-toothed smile. I should have guessed, really. There was only one thing Vanessa liked better than numbers.

Men.

"Oh, Rae," she said, and pointed. "Him."


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