Claire perched at the bar of the Streamside Cafe while Mason and I sat outside, enjoying the temperate but cloudy weather. He popped a fried clam into his mouth as I watched, curious.
"We can taste more due to our diets," he explained shortly, smiling at my confusion.
"Huh." I took a clam for myself. "What is your favorite food?"
With a crooked smile, he opened his mouth, but I cut across him.
"After you dropped the, uh, carnivorous, diet," I qualified.
"I knew what you meant. High-altitude prey; mountain lions, goats, and the like. Better circulatory systems."
I nodded, remembering our meeting on the mountain.
"I've seen lynxes in person, but never mountain lions before."
"Hmm..." he pondered, tilting his head, his eyes glittering, "For someone who's a hunter from Los Angeles, I feel that you should've..."
I grimaced, eyes flicking toward Claire, and he chuckled.
"Do you have any hidden talents?" I whispered, glancing around at some of the other couples and interlacing my fingers conspiratorially. "You're too old not to have cultivated a few."
He glanced out over the river-water with a small smile, "I have a pilot's license."
"Would you take me flying sometime?"
"Of course."
"That can't be all, though, can it? One hundred years or so..."
He raised his eyebrows at my accurate guess and I tapped my nose in an ambiguous explanation.
"I've achieved three PhDs."
"In?"
"Criminology, Neuropsychology, and, at the beginning of this century, Computer Science."
"Really? Computer Science?"
"Kira, Samuel, and I sought that one together," he said, eyes reminiscent, "Though Samuel went for Cybersecurity and Kira for Bioinformatics. We saw the turn of the century and took initiative."
"Smart," I smiled fondly, "A few of my young cousins pursued degrees in the computer sciences."
He regarded me curiously for a moment, then, "Enough about me - "
"No, no, let's go back and forth."
"How many cousins then?"
"Oh, uh, more than I can count. Big family, but thirteen I interacted with regularly. What did you do with the computer science degree?"
"Computational finance, mainly. I wanted to understand the stock market and trading better, having once lived through its crash. The likelihood that I could live through yet another is high, in my estimation - " he smirked sarcastically "- so I wanted to understand predictive models and risk. It was not my main area of interest, but our stocks are now optimally invested so I consider it worthwhile."
"Huh, yes, numbers sort of... go over my head."
"Your calculus grade isn't that terrible."
"High school calculus is hardly the epitome of math."
"Touche," he conceded as the waitress approached.
I'd ordered a greasy-looking burger with extra sides while he'd simply ordered another appetizer as his main course. I didn't miss the dirty look the waitress gave me as she set the contrasting-sized plates in front of each of us. I pasted a polite smile on my lips.
"What's your favorite subject?"
"Anatomy and physiology," I said with a nod, "Makes the most sense. I can see it, dissect it, understand it. Numbers are... out in the void."
"Hardly. You have one heart with four chambers, not to mention that your body has trillions of cells."
"Whatever, it makes more sense," I dismissed, taking a large bite and dabbing at my mouth with the napkin, "You've had some time to work on your hobbies, too. How many songs have you composed?"
"Thirty or so? I go for quality over quantity. If it's not something I'd want to play ever again: I scrap it and it doesn't make the list.
"Ah, a perfectionist, are we?"
"Chronically so."
"Oh, should I be wary?"
He laughed, running a hand through his hair as a gentle wind tickled us, "That's up to you."
I took another bite and glanced out over the thick ribbon of water just off the deck we were sitting out on. It was shallow in certain parts, enough to show a ripple of rapids as it wound seaward.
"Have you dated before?" he wondered.
I nearly choked on a too-big bit of burger. With a swallow and quick throat-clearing, I continued.
"Uh, yes..."
"I haven't, not really," he said quickly, staring up at the sky absently.
"'Not really'?"
He shook his head.
"Why?"
"I'm in peoples' heads so often, I can see what they want..." he trailed off.
"If you could read my thoughts..."
Apprehension claimed the rest of the question from my lips.
"If our conversations are any inkling as to what really goes on in there-" his eyes tracked up to my forehead and that crooked smile returned "- I'd still be enraptured by you even if your mind were laid bare."
Our back and forth continued, a shallow conversation, but I found I wanted to be honest. That request for a chaperone, however, was biting me. In the corner of my eye, I could see Claire sipping her cocktail and watching the television just behind the bartender, but I knew better. Whether she was trying to be respectful and tune us out, or not, we were within her range of hearing.
Mason picked up the tab for us and we moved out to the parking lot, our chaperone sliding silently into the backseat as we settled ourselves.
"So Kira said I'd like your date idea."
"From our previous conversations, I picked up that you're not exactly a material person. So perhaps experiences are more suited to your liking."
"That's correct."
"Do you like receiving gifts at all?"
"I suppose. Thoughtful ones, though. I have a few ideas for you..."
"Experiences are better for me as well," he said quickly, "I've had over a hundred years to accumulate all the stuff I could want."
"There's always new stuff."
"Not... really."
I glanced sideways at the subtle arch of a frown on his lips, "But humans are so innovative..."
"Yes, but none of the new stuff in the world could replace good company."
"You must truly love your family," I nodded, smiling, "It's unusual for vampires to congregate in such large groups for so long."
"Y-yes, family is comforting," he allowed.
His cheeks darkened.
"Ah, you meant romantic company."
His gaze stayed resolute out the windshield. I laughed, but reached for his hand on the gear-shift and rested mine atop it. The flush bridged over his nose.
"I've never seen a vampire blush," I noted, mesmerized.
His emerald eyes met mine sheepishly and I wondered, for a moment, how I could've pegged him as someone edgy. This was such a vulnerable, youthful expression, completely juxtaposed by the deep-bass voice he was neglecting to use in his chagrin. His blush deepened under my scrutiny, the dark vampire's blood creating a richer-red hue than what normally flushed on human faces.
"What?" he asked a little moodily.
"Even among vampires you're very handsome. And I've met a lot of vampires."
He glanced over, eyebrows raised. It was my turn to grow warm in the face and avert my gaze out the windshield. I caught him smiling out of the corner of my eye and further turned my gaze out the passenger's window instead. I caught sight of a sign.
"Museum?" I wondered, pressing my nose to the window despite the fact that it had flitted by.
"You'll see."
I saw it before we pulled off the road; a colorful pillar of... things stood tall and reaching for the sky. Some were significantly more weathered than others, their colors leached away, but altogether they looked like a mosaic of beads until we got closer. Even with my enthusiasm, Mason was quick to my door, opening it for me as I scrambled to get out and examine the attraction.
"Buoys?" I wondered aloud, staring up at the tower where they'd been woven together over a central pillar.
"This is a beach-combing museum."
"No way, stuff washes up on the ocean from centuries ago," I gasped, taking his arm, "It's like nature's time capsule."
"I figured you might appreciate this more than the average person."
Along the entrance dotted a vast number of blue-glass spheres wrapped in webbed rope that I recognized, "Japanese glass floats, used for keeping up fishing nets. I think they cycled out of use in the late twentieth century."
"Hmm," Mason agreed, a mischievous half-smile quirking the side of his mouth, "Interesting."
"What?"
"Let's see how many things each of us can recognize," he murmured wryly.
"Does it count if we both recognize it?"
"No. Has to be one of us over the other."
"Is there a prize?"
"The personal satisfaction in one's wealth of knowledge?"
"Boo," I squeezed his arm, "If I win... I want... a private piano recital."
"I think I could arrange that," he tilted his head back and forth, "If I win..."
He glanced sideways and the maroon blush returned.
"...A peck on the cheek?" I hedged, a small smirk playing on my lips.
"I'd like that."
"Then you're on," I chuckled.
The back and forth was lively, ending in furious pointing matches as we debated the worn, minute details. He'd identified a Harley-Davidson motorcycle by design, but I was the one that linked it to the 2011 earthquake-tsunami incident in Japan; in the end Claire ruled this one a tie and not a point was awarded to either of us.
I was proud to identify beeswax as being traceable to another earthquake-tsunami in the 1700s. Mason correctly identified a familiar, worn-faced zippo lighter with no lid and a little weathered snoopy character as being from the Vietnam war. I kicked myself over that one, but gave it to him to avoid divulging my background.
"Why do you know about so many natural disasters?" Mason wondered.
"Many natural disasters have supernatural origins or influence."
"And here I thought it was plate-tectonics."
"Some of it, yes. Certain supernatural creatures tend to either take advantage of or exacerbate natural disasters."
"Certain ones?"
"Usually demons and monsters, but some nature elementals have become increasingly violent over the years."
Mason's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline and I giggled. As we neared the end of our walkthrough, Mason sat one point ahead and I scoured the last of the shelves for anything that could get me the advantage I wanted. My eyes roved over a myriad of animal bones when I saw it.
"No..." I breathed, staring at a bleached-white bone.
It was ridged and still-lethal, propped against a shelf-full of other animal bones. It stood slightly taller than me, almost Mason's height, and I reached out to touch the smooth length. Immediately, I felt the latent magic in my body react with the item, causing a cool, electric current up through my fingertips.
"It looks fake..." Mason said skeptically, crossing his arms as I inspected it, "Perhaps it was a part of some sculpture?"
"No way," I hissed, staring around at the curator sitting behind the desk, "This is real."
"What is it?"
A grin pressed my cheeks from ear-to-ear, "Something I might need your help to lift off the owner."
Mason lifted a brow skeptically, "I'll need more information than that if we're going to steal something from someone who found it fair and square."
"This is a leviathan spine," I told him, running my hand up to the tip above my head, "That's why it's not dulled in the slightest. These are defensive spines located around its face; the ones on its tail are much longer."
"A... leviathan."
Despite Claire's polite interest, her nose too scrunched a bit in disbelief.
"So, say it is a... leviathan spine, what are you going to do with it, exactly?"
"First-off, it's not particularly safe for him to have this. Plenty of folks in-the-know would kill for something like this. Not to mention: at best, a leviathan represents envy and, at worst, chaos. I guarantee you, that our museum curator over there has likely had some misfortune befall him since he came into possession of it."
"Definitely not helping you then."
"Why?"
I swayed my weight moodily.
"I'm not letting you bring home something that's going to cause you trouble."
"You have to seal it properly to make sure it doesn't curse you. Soak wrapping paper in holy water, dry it out, wrap the object in question, and seal it closed using wax with your intent - usually a fingerprint, though it burns."
Mason and Claire stared bug-eyed.
"What?"
"Are you a witch?" Mason whispered, incredulous.
I huffed, "I think it's far more surprising that the lot of you are so uninformed."
"Alright. I'll help you. What do you need?"
"What's his attitude toward parting with his things?" I asked quietly, glancing at the curator who was now slowly wandering the shelves after us.
"When he's offered money and only with some things. He's already noticed your interest."
"I have only about forty in cash, not nearly enough..." I frowned, touching my purse briefly as I ran my hand along the back of the bone, "What's his attitude toward haggling?"
"He wants to know that his things are going toward a good home."
"Then we'll need Claire to haggle," I decided, "I'd rather you not use your compulsion if we can avoid it."
Claire started, her light-brown waves bouncing with surprise, "What?"
"You're known in the community for flipping houses," Mason realized, immediately picking up on my line of thought and staring at me with new appreciation, "Say you want it as an art-piece in a home you're flipping."
"Mine."
"Hers."
"I'll tell him I like sea monsters."
Mason chuckled as Claire puffed out an exasperated breath, steeled herself, and donned a charming, businesslike smile.
Drawing in a deep breath, I focused as I drew my hand up the back of the spine:
[Contineo]
The sealing glyph imprinted on the back expanse of the bone, beyond Mason or Claire's sight. It would do until I attained the more permanent solution back at home.
"Hello there," the curator smiled, hands relaxed in his pockets as his brown eyes appraised us with a discerning glitter, "I see you've taken interest in the tooth."
"Tooth?" I echoed, a small smile playing my lips as I glanced conspiratorially between him and it.
"Yep!" he exclaimed, rocking onto the balls of his feet, "Can't find any creature to match it; must be a tooth from ol' loch-ness. Definitely bone, though."
"I was thinking it might make for a good statement piece," Claire hedged, her voice warm and inviting, "For my client here."
"A statement piece?" he wondered, mildly impressed as he reinspected the spine, then looked skeptically to me, "Usually folks want the whale bone for things like that. Want to carve 'em up."
"I want it as-is," I emphasized, turning to stare appreciatively at the spine again, "Our nautical living room could use some sea-monster in it, I think."
"It would be quite the conversation starter," Claire encouraged, smiling over at me then looking at the curator, "Especially if you had any stories to go along with it."
I nodded subtly to her, appreciative as the curator looked to the ceiling in thought.
"Well now, come to think of it, being a sea-serpent's tooth and all, it's got enchantments. It doesn't want to part with the coast; my car broke down taking it home. Nearly fell on me when I set it in its spot here too. If you're going any farther inland, it might give you some trouble. Not to mention, its owner might come 'round looking for it one day. I found it just last month."
He winked. In the grand scheme of tragedies that could have befallen him, he got off easy.
"What would you be willing to part with it for?" Claire proposed, her shoulders relaxed, her hands poised openly in front of her: a disarming stance.
"Given it's in great shape, I'd say fifteen-hundred."
"But no one can confirm its origin," Mason pointed out, crossing his arms with a frown, "And a confirmed whale vertebrate, even in good condition, can't go for more than four-hundred, surely."
The curator frowned, and pointed to the shelf where a rounded circle of bone sat, "Just had a fella a few weeks back offer me near-two thousand for that fossilized vertebrate."
"Clearly a tourist."
"Can you do six-hundred?" Claire proposed lightly.
"Six-fifty," he decided, watching as I made a show of staring up at the impressive point atop the spine.
"Excellent," Claire said, clapping her hands together with a ring of finality, "You know, it's my preference to source locally; I look forward to working with you in-future."
Claire produced her wallet to which I startled, but Mason swiftly took my hand and planted a kiss on the back of it before I could protest.
"I'll bring the car around," he said, disappearing out the exit.
I made a show of helping Mason carry the spine, but he carried it completely with his inhuman strength. With a slam of the trunk, we clambered in, Claire sitting beside the thing where it popped out and poked the back of the passenger seat.
"If this cursed artifact causes us to crash, I will be quite upset," Mason grumbled, pulling away from the museum and returning out to the main road.
"With your supernatural reflexes, you can respond quickly to a little bad-luck."
Mason hummed, unconvinced, but I smiled. Nothing would happen to us. Not with the stop-gap sealing spell I'd placed on the spine.
"It seems we tied," he noted, his voice a little flat with disappointment.
"So we both won?"
"Is that how it works?"
"We decide how it works," I shrugged, smirking.
He grinned broadly, green eyes glittering, "Then we both won."
I nodded my assent, looking out the passenger window to hide my own little, traitorous smile.