Charlotte After Dark

Chapter 32: Speak of the Devil

Author's Note: Um.... I'm sorry. This is so long. You might have to take multipe breaks reading it. I just couldn't stop!

Midworlder. That’s what I was. Somehow, putting a name to it made some of the confusion go away, but there were so many more questions.

"You know, I should have guessed you were raised Mundane. You look at everything that moves like it's the most interesting thing you've ever seen, but something about you is odd," he told me.

“Odd?” I asked him as I took a seat next to him on the bench.

"I can't quite put my finger on it, but I will eventually," he responded.

"So, why is it that I've never seen this place on a map?" I asked.

"You'll never find this place on a map," he responded. "It can't be charted. Some sort of protection magic, I think."

"How do you keep the Mundanes out?"

"We don't need to. They can't see it unless they have the visumagnus, the sight, or whatever they call it. Only the Midworlders and Supes can see it and enter it. This is one of the oldest parts of the city. When Mundanes started flocking to this country by the thousands, so did the Supes. Some running, some trying to discover a part of the world even they didn't know. The Veil was growing thin in the Old World, but it was strong in the New World," Andrew told me.

"'The Veil'?" I asked.

"Wow, you really don't know anything," he commented. "How's that steep learning curve working for you?"

"Rub it in, why don't you? I’m playing about eighteen years of catch up."

 "It's the…" he wound his hand around in the air, trying to find his words. “Dividing line between our world and the other side, I suppose. Only the division isn't so picky when it comes to Mundanes. Ever hear of those people that go hiking in the woods and then never come back, or people that go missing for years only to return thinking they've been gone a few minutes? That's the Veil. It's pretty indiscriminate, but a terrifying thing at times. Its magic is unpredictable, but these days it's pretty weak. You find some patches here and there, but it's not as strong anymore. Some say maybe it's a sign that our time is over.”

"I can't assume that sentiment goes over so well," I said.

"Horribly," he remarked, before placing on of his arms around the back of the bench. "You know, it seems counterintuitive to say this, but you're pretty nice for a vampire. Downright tolerable. Why do you hang around with the likes of Crowley?"

The question surprised me. What did he know about Cormac that I didn’t know? Well, I didn’t know a lot about Cormac, but I felt like I knew enough to think than Andrew and I were talking about two completely different people.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, I guess,” was all I said.

I think Andrew sensed that I was conflicted and confused, and went on to explain.

"The Greymalkins are ambiguous, always have been, but the Crowleys... they've always been less so,” Andrew relayed to me. "You know who he worked for, don't you?"

I did. Riordan Blackwood. It was the whole reason he was a vampire now.

"Yes, I know. He tried to leave Riordan Blackwood--" I began.

"Is that what he told you?" Andrew asked with a raised eyebrow.

I stood up in anger, ready to turn on my heels and leave Andrew Bell behind me.