"Ah, the old invite-me-in cliché again."
Adam leans against the living room doorframe, arms folded, and Alyssa stops in her tracks.
"Although, I am informed you're not of the undead."
Alyssa looks him up and down. Fuck. Talk about an awkward situation. "And you are?"
Adam practically bridles. "Really, Nathan. I'm insulted. Have you told her nothing about me?"
"Um...no?" Alyssa looks from me to Adam and back again. "Look, I know I dropped in unannounced, had a night out, few drinks, you know how it is---"
"Oh yes, dear; whenever I go out, I like to quench my thirst as much as possible."
"Shut up Adam. Look. Alyssa, this is Adam. Adam, this is Alyssa. She's my friend, and you will behave. Is that understood?"
"I always do."
"If I'd known you had male, undead company, I'd have...you know..." Alyssa rolls her shoulders in something approximating a shrug. Or maybe she's just trying to shake off the distinctly uncomfortable atmosphere.
"He doesn't just fuck other vampires, you know. Sometimes, he dallies with---" at this, Adam widens his eyes dramatically. Of course; everything has to be dramatic with him "---your sort."
"My sort?"
"You have your uses." He winks, still leaning against the doorframe like he owns the place. He couldn't mark his territory more obviously if he turned into a lion and sprayed every corner.
Alyssa's jaw works, as if she's trying to force out words. Stunned, she looks at me for help.
"Yes, he is always like this."
"Come now, Nathan---not always. We've barely spoken in seventy years. I thought you were dead for most of it."
And Alyssa's still staring. "Sounds like quite a story here."
"Nathan neglected to tell me he was still alive. In a sense."
"You know each other, then?"
"Fr om way back. During the war. Second World, I'm referring to."
"Fuck."
"We often did, yes."
She wrinkles her nose. "Now that, I did not need to know. Not homophobic; just think some things should be kept private."
"Good to know. Glad you clarified that."
"Maybe," I say, deciding it's time to step in, "Alyssa has a sense of decency, which you are sorely lacking."
"I'm hurt." Adam touches a hand to his heart and stands up straight, no longer leaning to one side like a sarcastic italic in physical form. "That wounds me."
"Okay, let me get this straight." Alyssa taps the air in front of her with a downturned palm, one, two, three. Counting. Or trying to figure things out in her head. "Your name's Adam, you're a vampire like Nathan, and you knew each other way back. You're what? Ex-lovers, I assume?"
"More or less. We might have reunited,"
Adam says, and I shoot him a what did you say glance. "Temporarily. Just for fun. You know."
"For old time's sake?" Alyssa asks, receiving a nod and a light laugh in reply. "And you thought he was dead? Why?"
"Oh my; these things get so complicated, don't they?" Adam rubs his palms together before looking down at them spread before him. He either looks like Lady Macbeth--- out, out damned spot---or a man readying himself for prayer.
"Because he tried to kill me," I say, and Adam's head flicks up immediately.
"I did not. " He turns to Alyssa. "I did no such thing."
"You've got a guy who tried to kill you in your house?" Alyssa takes one step backwards, closer to the front door. I can't blame her.
"What Nathan is trying to say is that, yes, it's true. I am the one---well, if you count Will in all this, I'm one of the two---who's responsible for Nathan being here today."
"You're his...is there even a word for it?"
I think of the barman in Vlad's referring to Adam as my sire and try not to shudder.
"You never told me." Alyssa's staring up at me with disbelief, wonderment and confusion fighting for supremacy in her eyes. "You never told me anything about how you came to exist."
"You never asked."
"I didn't think it was right. Private, you know." She shoots a glance at Adam, an almost apologetic one, and he, for once, says nothing. No sarcasm, no jokes. "I figured if he wanted to tell me, he would. Vampire etiquette, you know?"
Adam waits a few seconds before speaking.
"Maybe it's about time you did tell her," he says, addressing me but still looking at Alyssa.
"You won't come out of this very well," I remind him, as if he needs reminding.
And he shrugs. "I know." He turns to re-enter the living room. "To be honest, I'm not sure if I care anymore."
All this time, Alyssa's not sat down. She has plenty times before; whenever she's been here, she's made herself comfortable, not thinking twice about it being the home of a vampire. But as I speak, and Adam speaks, she doesn't rest. Can't relax.
That's probably got something to do with Adam sprawling across the settee like he owns it, arms spread along its back, feet resting on my coffee table beside my battered, much-read copy of Jude the Obscure. I don't read just French and Russian novels. Sometimes, a good old English tragedy speaks to me.
There are armchairs too. No one makes use of them. The only one with the balls to even pretend he's comfortable is Adam, Adam, bloody Adam.
For most of the duration of this excruciating little chat, tete a tete, ménage a trois, whatever the hell I'm supposed to call it, I've been standing by the mantelpiece, occasionally leaning on it. While telling Alyssa about the time when I begged Will not to tell of my continued existence, I turned my back and leaned on the mantel shelf with both hands, gripping it hard enough to make myself think I might even splinter the wood. Near-impossible, even with my supernatural strength, but such was my emotional turmoil.
I didn't want to see the look on Alyssa's face, but most of all---and God help me for saying this---
I didn't want to see the betrayal in Adam's eyes as I went over the conspiracy
