Unlikely

SIXTEEN

"So, other than a craving for raw potato and a slightly altered appearance, you haven't noticed any other manifestations from the new elixir?" Iz asks me. We are sitting in his study sipping a new vintage from Argentina. It is full-bodied and peppery and reminds me somewhat of cherries and pine. I find I like it.

"So far." We both knock lightly on the wooden arms of our deep-seated chairs, me with a suppressed surge of guilt. I can't seem to bring myself to share that the beast in me has become more aware, more a part of my waking life even when it hasn't manifested. My new craving for crunchy starch is small potatoes compared to my craving for fresh blood. Mickey has come with me, she never lets me out of her sight now. She is stretched out long in front of the fireplace, her belly full from raw steak. Mickey doesn't suppress her urges. Her tail twitches in her sleep.

"How's Mike?" Iz twirls his glass, appreciating the dark color as it thins. With the firelight behind it looks ruby red.

"He's sleeping and eating raw steak." I watch Iz's face scrunch up. Steak tartare is one of the few high-brow pleasures he does not approve of. He says it is too close to drinking blood, which is all very vampire and vampires are passe'. I wouldn't know about these things and frankly, it surprises me. If anyone in my circle turned out to be a vampire it would be IZ.

"How do you like your wine?" Iz's eyes glitter with amusement.

"I like it fine...." It smells like wine. I am hoping Iz hasn't served me something like real blood to 'test' me. He's not a practical joker but he is insatiably curious.

"I had Jarvis add some salt. I know you've never been a big red wine fan but I hoped this might make it more appealing to you." He looks proud of himself.

"Thank you. I do like it." For Iz to contaminate a prime vintage was a huge statement. Although, he didn't like to drink alone, so maybe it wasn't just a nod to my odd taste buds but loneliness.

"So. To business." He refills our glasses before settling back in his seat. "I have contracted with a grocer to deliver steaks weekly along with the dry food for the creatures and canned good for the kids. I have already sent over sleeping bags and camping equipment. Eventually, we'll have to figure out something a little more civilized." Iz pauses and looks reflectively into the fire. "I know about the eviction notice. Unfortunately, there isn't anything I can do until the City removes the Notice of Ruin."

"Raffe seems to think he can do something about that." I reply.

"Hmmm. Yes, well. Keep an eye on that one. Raffe is short for Raphael, you know." Iz sees my look of confusion. "It's biblical is all I'm saying. Everything in that book is a lesson in contrasts. Feast and famine. Angels and devils. Eye for an eye and turning the other cheek. A lot of mixed messages and bad endings."

I wasn't sure where Iz had gotten his religious education from but it had left a mark. I opted not to comment. I didn't care if Raffe was an angel or a demon, just as long as he got the City off our backs.

"I have a couple of books for you if you like. I'll want them back when you are done so don't eat them or anything." Iz hands me a couple of hardcover books. I can tell right away they are middle earth adventures full of gloriously nasty dragons and heroes that insist on running off on quests rather then getting a job to support their families. There's no practicality anywhere in these stories but they sure are fun. The heroes always have chiseled features and wavy golden hair too. Something else I never really understood.

On the way back I decide to detour and stop by Ted's. He's not as much of a night owl as I am but if I see a light on I'll pop in. I want to ask him more about Raffe, get a better sense of who my new housemate is.