The Camarilla

Chapter 9

The strange thing about immortality and living for a ridiculous number of lifetimes is the fact that you sometimes slip up and address someone by the name of a different figure you formed a bond with 100 years ago. For example, while handing Margert her club sandwich from the fridge while I grabbed my sandwich, I accidentally called her Marchella. Margert looked at me funny and asked, "Wha- Why did you call me that, lol?"

I raise an eyebrow before finally catching on to my mistake, "Oh sorry! You and she have so much in common."

"Really?"

"Yeah, she's a lot like you, personality wise and looks wise, and always looked to the rainbows of life with a spring in her step."

"Wow, I would love to meet her!"

"Er... I don't think you can."

"Oh? Does she live out of state?"

"Something like that." In truth, Marchella lived in 1800, specifically lived from 1843 to 1897, in London when I decided to live there for a few life times before moving back to the Americas, "Think a different continent." I wasn't planning to give away the fact that she's long dead to Margert, so I just played fast and loose with the facts, "Plus, we don't talk anymore, which sucks but, hey, life carries on."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." Margert unwrapped her sandwich as I sat down across from her, "Say... What's up with you and Nat recently?"

"Hm?" I take a bite out of my tuna sandwich.

"I mean... You usually come into the café during your days off but you didn't, and according to some of the people around town, you and Nat hung out all day! So, what's the tea, Harley? Tell me!"

I rolled my eyes and ate a bit more of my sandwich. "Listen, if you think we spent the night together, you're wrong. We just found common ground and became friends—" I stopped myself, correcting myself, "We became comrades—" I stopped again, "We're mutuals—" Stop, "We are no longer rivals—" This was harder than I thought it would be, "We—"

"Ok you can stop; I think I get the picture."

"Thank you." I sigh in relief, "I don't know what we are. Maybe friends, maybe just rivals with a common goal, it's all up in the air right now. At this point, he could and would turn around and stab me in the back, that's all I'm saying." I paused, reveling in the fact that he could do so literally, but would lock himself out of his humanity. "But for now, we could be considered friends."

"Wow, that's something. I mean... I don't know how to respond to that. Your life is something else, Harley."

"Yeah well, it's my life to live," I smirk.

"So, do you have any plans for tonight?"

"Yeah, I do, there's a tailor shop I want to visit and check out. It's a tad far from here but hey, what can you do when you don't have a car?"

I almost immediately regret telling Margert about my trip because she gets a funny look on her face and squeaks with excitement. She finally blurts out some common English and says, "I'm coming with!!! We are putting you in a dress, Harley!"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Turn it back! Turn it back! She can't come with, "You're not coming with!"

"Uh, yeah I am! We're getting you in a dress, it will be gorgeous! I have never seen you in anything other than a suit! You gotta try other pieces of formal wear!"

"Margert, no, you really can't come!"

"I will! What's the address?"

Pause. She doesn't know. I can lead her away, "Oh uh. 115 Ackerson Ave?"