That Certain Je Nais Se Quoi

  Ben Lambert stood in threshold of his French countryside mansion, staring at the three new arrivals who’d flung themselves onto his doorstep. 

  Their eager expressions triggered a panic in him. It was rare he got visitors - even rarer that any of them were male. 

  The first male was in very outdated attire, sporting equally outdated blond swept hair and thick-rimmed, square-shaped glasses. 

  His skin had a tint of gray to it - corpse-like. His expression was that of a schoolboy sauntering up to a teacher to tell them that they've not done their homework. 

  His eyes then landed on the other male, a red-haired, emerald-eyed man with a quiet gaze in his eyes that stirred something untrusting deep in Ben’s core. 

  Ben's eyes flicked to the girl next, who looked coy. 

  She was very attractive in his opinion, with over-sized dark ringlet hair, large, mahogany eyes and a kissed peach complexion. 

  Ben's eyes unwittingly looked her up and down, taken aback by her looks. 

  Then the blonde man, noticing, stuck out his right hand to Ben, a huge grin on his marble face. 

  “Ben Lambert? Is that right?” he asked in a strong California twang. 

  It had been a long time since Ben had spoken to a person in English. He hoped he wouldn't somehow mess up.

  “Depends who is asking,” he replied quietly. 

  “Well, it's just that we're friends of your father's. Were friends of your father's,” said the man, voice tentative. 

  Ben did not ease up. 

  “Right. So, can I ask why you're here, since he's dead?”

  The three exchanged uneasy glances. 

  “Your father never mentioned anything about un...dead people, did he?” asked the man. 

  The girl shot him a glare and elbowed him in the ribs, to which he yelped. 

  The flame-haired male's brow furrowed. 

  Ben blinked a few times.

  “U-undead people?” he repeated. “Of course, of course, my father told me all about them, I‘ve conducted a few experiments on their behaviour, their make-up…” 

  “Excellent! Can you tell us anything important about them?” persisted the man.

  Ben's eyes instantly narrowed suspiciously. The man was asking too many questions for his liking. 

  “Why are you so interested to know?” Ben’s words slowly grinded to a halt, his eyes expanding up to his eyebrows as he studied Varjak more closely. “You’re…you’re an undead!”

  The man's expression softened. “Yeah, right, I know, but I’m Varjak Swinton. You know, the betrayer of the tribe? The one who got away? And yours truly for defeating the undead with my faithful sexy sidekicks, Kate and James!” 

  Kate growled at Varjak and James shuffled on the spot. 

  Varjak appeared not to notice either reaction. 

  “Oh,” said Ben, having just wheezed from an inhaler impregnated into his pocket. “Well you could have said that at the start!”

  “Cool beans. Hey, mind if we come in?” Varjak started to push the door open, but Ben held it fast. 

  “No!” said Ben, breathing deeply. “I’d rather reduce the chances of your trace being here. I’d rather we went to your home than here.”

  “Well we live in a hotel, technically,” said Kate. “But if you feel safer there I guess we’d better go, right Varjak?”

  Varjak shrugged. 

  “So long as you’re being a nice wee button and co-operating, I don’t mind.”

  They caught a bus back to central Paris, where they were staying in a four star hotel, courtesy of James' unexplained wealth. 

  “Shall we get straight to the point then?” said Varjak, as he planted himself on the arm of a recliner. Kate, James and Ben had all parked on the sofa. “Right Ben, as you’ve possibly deduced with your brainy brain, we’re being currently hunted down by the undead. 

  I came out of hiding and they’ve seen me. They trashed Kate’s place to find out where we’d gone when we went to see Ginger over here. Then Kate got herself beaten up by one at the airport, so they’re tasting blood right now. So we came here for you to tell us all you know about them so we can use it as possible ammo. That all right with you?”

  Ben’s gaze was steady. “My father told me you were intelligent. Has that faded?”

  Varjak started. “Excusez-moi?”

  “They wanted you to come here, by the sound of things,” said Ben. “This is now simply a recipe for disaster.”

  “Er, elaborate,” said Kate, who was distinctly fearful of this revelation. 

  It made sense actually. 

  The attempts to find them so far had been lazy, but enough to drive them out of the country.   

  Even Ian had only beaten her up - he could have killed her in an instant. 

  And where else would they go but here? 

  “These incidents are ways of guiding you into their territory,” said Ben. “Why trash your house and go away? Why not wait? And why not kill you instead of beating you up?”

  “I was just thinking that,” said Kate quietly. “But, why would their territory be here? The American ones are in America, they’d have to travel back and forth.”

  “They don't need to,” Varjak replied smoothly. “They have contacts everywhere. Not that we don't have lots of contacts too - I mean, we have at least one group in most of the main sort of countries - ”

  “Tangents, Varjak,” muttered Kate under her breath. 

  “Sorry,” he grumbled in response. 

  “You’re going to have to rethink your course of action,” said Ben. “Sure I can give you information but I think you are in more danger than you realise. I’d advise, if you can, moving hotels every night or getting out of here completely. Right now this is all going to their plan, if I’m right.”

  “What an oracle of wisdom,” Varjak remarked. “Ah Hell. I really should have seen this one coming.”

  “A little out of practise I should think,” said Ben with a small grin. “As it stands, they probably don’t know your exact location unless they’ve followed you, which is entirely possible. Putting them off the scent will be difficult.”

 “And that’s why you’re here to tell us,” said James, next to Kate.

 “First, it’s best I inform you of the history of the undead. It might seem irrelevant now, but it may be important in the future. It’s best to know as much about their past and present as possible.”

 “I like this story,” said Varjak.

 “You’ve heard it before?” asked Kate.

  “Arnaud told us it,” Varjak replied. 

  Ben shuffled in his seat a little, then continued. 

  “The history of the undead is extensive, and may well date to the beginning of man. The few humans who know of their existence, given their stealthy nature, have only traced records back to the Medieval times. They are also the origin of the vampire myth, with their pale cool skin and blood-sucking tendency. Their state of half-life is deemed unnatural and it is, if whose have investigated the matter are correct.

  There is a theory, a theory also tracing back to evidence from the Medieval era, that there is an artefact that created this form of life. An ancient stone, if you like. Supposedly touching the stone puts you in a state of immortality, but also gives you a half life, one undesired. The stone is said to also be what allows the undead to be alive in some way - if it is destroyed, theoretically the undead would die fully as they should. And the balance of the living and the dead would be restored.”

  “A stone…made the undead?” said Kate slowly. “What kind of stone? Where is it?”

  “No one knows where it is. Another theory is that the stone lies on a convergence of ley lines, a potential power house, but no hard evidence has backed this, obviously.”

  “So, if that’s true, it’s something that requires a load of energy?” asked James.

  “Correct.”

  Kate rounded on Varjak. 

  “And why didn’t you mention this before?”

  Varjak shrugged. 

  “I’ve never had time! And I knew you’d be whining questions at me so I needed a time like this to tell you.”

  Kate promptly threw a pillow at him, which he caught. 

  “So, if the stone is destroyed, then the undead are too? Well, great! It all sounds a bit Harry Potter but we can deal with it. We just have to get a map of ley lines and try them all out.”

  Ben shook his head. 

  “Completely not that simple. The stone could be layers underground, and the point of convergence may stretch many miles.” 

  “On top of that, you’d be killing Varjak too,” said James, grinning at her.

  “You seem a little too happy about that,” Varjak sneered. “I don’t think we need to concentrate on the stone at this stage in the game. We have nothing to help us find it, and hey, you’d be killing me if you did. We need to concentrate on our very current, very pressing situation which we have no real way out of.”

  “There’s always a way,” said Kate. “Their territory can’t be central Paris, it has to be rural. And pretty big too. We’ll need to avoid that for certain.”

  “Yes,” Ben agreed. “The undead are agile and have excellent defence systems to protect their half-dead body. If you break down all the barriers, which is incredibly difficult, you could kill them with a punch. The invisibility and teleportation are the major defences, and therefore trying to avoid so many of them at once will be near impossible. 

  They can be taken out of invisibility by a cloud of specific chemicals which my…father and I have developed in our research. Spray it, they should become visible for a sustained length of time. As for teleportation, my father had created a tranquilizer of sorts to prevent it, but it was stolen.”

  “Stolen?” asked Varjak. “The undead?”

  “It’s a possibility, but I could never figure out what they’d want with it,” said Ben. “I can get you the invisibility one when I return home, but there’s not a lot. Use it when you really need to. Apart from that, keep away from my house and rural areas.” 

  He stood up. 

  “Hey, hang on. Your house is surrounded by forest. You’re putting yourself in a lot of danger,” said Kate.

  Ben shrugged. 

  “I understand that, but Dad and I researched for years without drawing much attention to ourselves. And my house has a lab full of stuff toxic to them, they wouldn’t like to mess with me there.” 

  “Yeaaaah, I wouldn’t rely on that,” said Varjak. “You really need to stay at home? And with no escort?”

  Ben shook his head. 

  “You’ll need the stuff to fight them with, trust me. I find it highly unlikely that you won’t at some point seriously encounter them. And if any of you follow me back, I might be traced.”

  “We can’t just leave you unprotected,” said James. 

  “For once, The Fake Ginger makes sense. Can’t you at least grab the s**t and scurry back here?” said Varjak. 

  “I could, but I could also use the time to gather up my things and even create more solutions for us to use. I’ll be back tomorrow, just give me a call and tell me where you’ve relocated to.”   

  He took out a card from his tan leather jacket. 

  “I don’t like this Ben, I won’t lie to you,” said Varjak nervously. 

  “I don’t either. But if I can get back unscathed with what we need, we’ll be in a much better position to fight.” He bowed his head a little at them. “See you tomorrow, I hope.” 

  Then he turned and left the apartment. 

                                                                       ***

  “D****t,” hissed Kate, as the door closed. “D****t Varjak! What the Hell are we going to do? We would have been safer in America! At home! Now we‘re all going to die!”

  “Oh, cut your drama jabber, they would have killed us anyway if we hadn’t have gone along with their plan.” He sniffed. “Or perhaps not. They’re all about revenge, after all. Getting us on their territory makes us more vulnerable and they can make us do what they want us to.”

  “Exactly!” yelled Kate. “I thought you were meant to be good at this Varjak! You’ve just dug us into a deeper hole!”

  “They would have found another way to get revenge, believe me!” Varjak squawked back. 

  “Why should I trust anything you say any more? Hm? If it wasn’t for you following me home and coming out of hiding I would have been ignorant to them! I would be in college worrying about paying for my food and getting a first degree in Theatre Arts! Not terrified for my life every minute of every day, missing my grandparents and my friends!”

  “It’s in your blood, you spanner! Your parents would have wanted you to help me in their place!” 

  Varjak had stood, his expression one of faint, dizzy disbelief. 

  Kate stood defiantly in response. 

  “If you’d stayed a perv and just, just stayed in that f*****g bathroom none of this would have happened!”

  “Oh, sorry I was alone for twenty years then saw the grown up daughter of my friends and talked to her!”

 “Well maybe you should have stayed in the bathroom for another twenty years and left me alone!” 

  Varjak, although clearly faltering for a moment, merely sighed, ignoring Kate's comment.  

  James was leafing through a French magazine on the sofa. 

 “Well, this teen drama isn’t helping anyone,” said Varjak after a long moment. “James, since you’re so collected you can go get us a new place to stay for tomorrow night. And make it low key this time.”

  James lazily looked up from his magazine. “Since when do I take orders from you?”

  “Since I might one day actually save your asses, whether you both believe in me or not. I’m sure it’s the least you can do.”

  “Yes, fine,” said James, lifting off the seat in search of his Mac Book. 

  “And what will we do?” Kate sighed, as James disappeared into his room. 

  “Sit here and catch up on 90210 if you like.”

  “Not funny,” said Kate, still ruffled from their argument. “Although again I don’t see why I bother asking you - Ben seems to be the only one with answers around here. He doesn’t waste time sitting on ceilings and hanging out of windows.” 

  Before Kate had finished her sentence, Varjak had flipped up and was now sitting cross legged on the ceiling. 

  “Oh, you mean like this?” He swung down like a hanging corpse and flung himself in her face. “This is time-wasting?” He grinned in her face. 

  “This could be a total Spiderman and Mary-Jane moment if you weren’t so damned annoying.” She muttered. 

  “Aw, what? I’m missing out on a smooch, am I? Oh come on, don’t be like that!” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “I’m sex on half-dead legs.”

  She placed a finger vertically on his lips. 

  “Not just now, dear. The kids will be home soon.” 

  She pushed him away suddenly, which caused him to lose his balance and drop like a stone onto the sofa. 

  “Heeeeey, you made a joke! What a historical moment.”

  “You’ll be a permanent historical moment if you don’t shut up.”

  “Oh, just try it,” he preened, smirking up at her. “Killing me, that is, not kissing me, but either works for me!” 

  He evaporated into the air. 

  Kate was about to give a very long sigh before James came out of his room. 

  “Alright, I’ve booked this one - where’s Varjak?”

  “Present!” he cried, shimmering back into visibility on top of the dining table.

  James rolled his eyes and passed the laptop to a now seated Kate. 

  “It’s a bit s**t, I’ll agree, but the other supposed oracle of wisdom insisted.”

  “Ew two stars,” moaned Kate. “Guess it’s better than dying.”

  “Oh I wouldn’t know!” cried Varjak manically. 

  Kate took her opportunity to sigh then. “I didn’t know rejection affected you this much.”

  “Rejection?” queried James immediately. 

  “Long story!” said Varjak. “But not as long as the smooch we’ll have one day! NEH HEH HEH!”

  “He’s having one of his manic episodes,” said Kate, looking back at the laptop. “This thing’s so fast.”

  “I think he reacts like that after he’s been emotional,” said James, quietly and thoughtfully. “And yeah, it’s a $1000 laptop, I’d expect it to be fast.”

  “It’s a $1000 laaaaptop,” Kate mocked. 

  “Well it is!” James protested. 

  Kate rolled her eyes and scrolled down the page for their next hotel. 

  Again, Varjak's ability to become invisible meant that only one room was necessary, which was useful due to Kate's lack of funds, and she would be responsible, no doubt, for the payment of Varjak. 

  But as he'd reminded her many times on the flight there (by swooping down from the ceiling at meal times), he was a cheap date.

  However, Kate had decided to pay for their food and drinks in France whilst they waited for Ben to return. 

  Tonight she intended to take them to any inexpensive French restaurant she could find.   

  Varjak, upon hearing this news later in the evening, began dancing around her bedroom, singing “Kate and James, going on a date! Already on first base before they’re even mates!”

  “It is not a date!” she bellowed, as Varjak swooped and ducked to avoid her bear-like swings. 

  “You asked him out for a meal in the romance capital of the world and it's not a date?” asked Varjak seriously, shimmering into invisibility to avoid a slap.

  “No! It's not!” Another swing at the air. “He pays for the hotel room, I pay for all food expenses. Definitely nothing romantic about that!”

  “But you want there to be.”

  “No I don't!” she squawked, sitting down on the bed and folding her limbs. “I don't think I like him like that.”

  Varjak reappeared, a hand at his mouth as he gasped exaggeratedly. 

  “You don't think?”

  “Well I don't know,” she muttered. “I might do. I don't know him well enough yet.” 

  How was she to know what she felt for James yet? She thought furiously. 

  She had known him a matter of days! 

  Alright, so she had forced him to move to France with her, but that was for his own safety!

  “You know him well enough to uproot him and shifty-vous him to Paris,” muttered Varjak, as though reading her mind.

  “That was for his own safety,” she explained. “They could have followed a trail back to his house. I wasn't risking it.”

  “And why weren't you risking it?”

  “Because I didn't want a death on my conscience?” she said exasperatedly.

  “I still think there was another reason,” said Varjak, unabashed. “And anyway, what ever happened to taking me out on a date? What's wrong with me? Not hot enough for you? Because I can tell you now, I might not be the most pretty of fellas, but in the bedroom - ”

  “Thaaaat’s enough,” Kate said, moving over to the wardrobe and sifting through the items. 

  As she did, she could feel a pair of grey bulging eyes burning holes into her skull. 

  She couldn't see properly from her peripheral vision, but what she could see worried her. 

  It was only for a second, but she swore she saw a strange emotion pass over Varjak's face.   

  Something...something like longing? 

  No it was more like - in fact no. It was nothing like that. Not at all. 

  Not one to hold back, she enquired.

  “What?” she asked, turning and frowning at him.

  “What what?” he repeated, flipping upside down and sitting cross-legged on the ceiling. 

  Kate rolled her eyes. 

  “Nothing. Now, do something productive.” She held up two dresses to Varjak. “The black one or the blue one?”

  “Hm.” He cupped his upside-down chin thoughtfully. “Blue makes your eyes stand out, but the black makes your b***s look bigger.”

  “The blue then?”

  “Well that depends. Are you saying 'Hey James, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?', or 'Look how pretty I look James, don't you just want to smooch me?'?”

Kate grimaced. “Neither. But I'll choose the blue.”

  “Wise decision,” said Varjak. “So where am I going whilst you're cavorting about Paris with your beau? Am I being banished to the hotel room again? Well, it beats the bathroom.”

  “Don't be silly. You're a grown man,” she said, slipping behind the screen to change her outfit. “You can do what you want so long as you're invisible and you're back by twelve.”

  “You can't give me a curfew!” he groaned.

  “Well that's when James and I are coming back. And who knows? Maybe we'll kiss then. And you'll miss it, since you'll not be in by twelve...”

  “Alright fine!” he squawked. “I'll be back here by twelve on the dot. But if you're not here I'll go and look for you.”

  “You do that,” she smirked, knowing she'd won. There was a knock on the door.

  “It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding!” shouted Varjak at the door, making Kate's hand appear around the screen and clutch angrily at the empty air.

   James sighed. “Kate, are you ready yet?”

  “Nearly,” she called back, tumbling out from behind the screen and scanning the floor for her favourite chunky heels. 

  “You're clumsier when he's about.” Varjak observed. Kate was too occupied to scold him. 

  “Aha!” She cried triumphantly, pulling her heels out from under the bed and  parking herself on the floor to put them on.

  “Oh very elegant,” snorted Varjak, but once more his efforts were wasted.

  “I booked the table for eight Kate, hurry up,” said James, opening the door slightly.

  “You booked the table? But I pay for the meals!” She grumbled.

 Varjak turned to her and mouthed 'He loves you'. Her face twisted.

  “It's my treat. Now come on, the cab's going to be here soon.”

  “And you booked a cab?” she said incredulously. “You're running up a bigger bill than necessary for yourself.”

  “As I said, it's a treat,” he replied evenly. “Are you ready now?”

  She took her purse and stumbled towards the door, opening it. 

  Then she spent a second or two scraping her jaw off the floor. 

  James looked…wow. 

  His electric red hair was carefully messy, making the green of his eyes pop. He was wearing a tie-less suit that emphasised the amber bright of his hair and defined his lean figure. 

  “Y-Yes, I am,” she stammered, happy that she couldn't see Varjak's doubtlessly goofy reaction to this. 

  “Good.” He smiled crookedly. “Then let's go, at last.”

  “Hasta la vista Varjak.” Kate said, turning to smirk at him.

  “Yeah yeah,” snorted Varjak. “You kids better not get up to any mischief. You hear me? Keep it over the table.”

  “Varjak!” squealed Kate. 

  He grinned.  

  Okay, so maybe turning the smart-a*s tables on Varjak wasn’t the best idea. 

  “I'll see you later,” he smirked. 

  Then he disappeared, presumably going off to cause the very mischief he‘d warned her from. 

  James sighed next to her as they stood in the living room. 

  “Does he ever leave you alone?”

  “Not really. He'll most likely be spying on us tonight,” said Kate, tone despairing.

  “Well I don't mind,” said James. “So long as he makes himself scarce, he can hover around all he likes.”

  “Well he could have come along if he'd wanted,” she said. “It's not as if we're on a date or anything.”

  “I know,” he replied smoothly. “But surely it's nice to get away from him for a night?”

  “I could say the same thing for you,” said Kate.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well I've nearly spent as much time with Varjak as I have you,” she explained. “Therefore I could say that it would be nice to get away from you for a night. Not that it would be, necessarily.”

  “I’d like to think not,” said James, smirking. “The cab will be here now. We’d better go.”

  “How do I look?” said Kate, going to a nearby mirror and taking out a red lipstick. 

  James’ eyes were soft. 

  “Nice, you know that. Now come on.”

  Kate left her reflection alone, and followed James through the hotel to the cab. 

  Kate grinned to herself as she imagined Varjak at that moment, plastered against the ceiling of the hotel room and sniggering to himself at the possible prospect of her and James snogging. 

  She carried the thought to the restaurant, where she and James were sat and began to chat into the night.

Reviews

[tynamite]

If they just got off the plane, you should say that in the beginning before it says "countryside mansion" as that threw me off guard. Some description would be good at the beginning to break up the dialogue too.

I'm liking this chapter, even if it is really long. Varjak always makes things so awkward!

[w2de35657u687y4324rf]

You've definitely left them in quite a position. There were more grammatical errors in this chapter than the others, thought it was a bit longer. I cannot tell you how much I hate James. Ben seems incredibly unprepared for the son of the prodigal hunter. I think there should have been a short bit about Jame's body, considering there was one about Varjak and I'm looking to contrast the two. We did a lot of jumping in this chapter from the very beginning to the end. Personally, I didn't like how it switched to Ben's perspective during the first passage. I wonder how the three found him. Also, I think it was incredibly irresponsible to let James and Kate put alone. I am losing a bit of trust in Varjak. I had thought he was more than a goofy ghost, but it seems he has yet to help anyone with anything. If he was a hunter before the wedding attack why doesn't he know how to kill the undead and why doesnt he share this valued knowledge? This is the kind of chapter that just has the reader yelling "damnit" repeatively, which means the book is well done and suspenseful.