Discord parked alongside the rest of the fleet of SUVs, about in the middle of the acre-sized parking lot. The time was nearing 8:30. The initial dinner rush had subsided, and many of the guests had turned in for the night, making the exterior a very quiet place.
“Is here all right?” Discord asked.
“Yeah, and you can just leave the keys in the visor. It’s fully insured.”
“You know what? I’ve never gotten insurance on anything.”
“Really? Haven’t you owned a house or rented somewhere?”
“Nah, technically speaking, I’m homeless, but I got shacks all around the world. I should really get one in Germany.”
“Lots of woods. I’m sure you can find a good place for it.”
Discord laughed. “I like the way you think, kid.”
The men then left the car and made their way to the entrance. On the way, Derrek noted that Jeffrey’s truck still wasn’t there. He’d said he would be back by the end of the week, but he might have meant Saturday, so Derrek put it out of his mind for the time being, instead focusing on whatever misadventure Discord was going to drag him into as he was leading the way.
After entering the building, Discord inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of lavender and burning wood. It reminded him of fond memories past, which saddened him, as those he shared them with were long gone. His smile never faded, however, as he chose to focus on the good times that were, not those that could no longer be.
He headed for the front desk, where the woman who had checked Derrek in his first night was typing away at her computer, inputting data. She looked up at Discord and saw Derrek was with him. She smiled and asked, “How may I help you, sir?”
“Yeah, I need to talk to Mila Müller as soon as you can get her.”
“I’m sorry, sir. You need to book an appointment to speak with Frau Müller, but I can take a message for you if you wish.”
Discord leaned in close and spoke with a hushed tone to keep Derrek from overhearing. When he leaned away, the woman’s eyes were wide, and the smile that was seemingly plastered on her face had faded. She pushed a button on her phone and spoke into it in hushed German. She then directed the two to a hallway left of her desk and said, “Last door on the right. She’s expecting you.”
“Thank you very much,” Discord said, grabbing a handful of complimentary peppermints and shoving them into presumably the same pocket he put the nuts in earlier. Derrek mouthed, “Sorry” to her as he walked past, to which she responded with a silent glare.
Derrek stopped Discord halfway down the hall and asked, “What did you say to her?”
“Just the truth.”
“And what might that be?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
“What is ‘soon enough’ to you?”
Derrek was clearly displeased with how he had handled it with the woman at the desk, so to try and quell him, Discord said, “In this case, soon enough is the minute we walk through that door. And don’t worry about her. That little fangless has been through a lot. She’ll be fine.”
“What did you just call her? Fangless?”
“It’ll make sense. Trust me,” Discord said, looking Derrek in the eye.
Derrek nodded, reluctant but trusting of Discord’s judgment. After all, it was that same judgment that allowed him to live. They continued down the hall, coming to a stop at Mila’s door.
Discord knocked, then entered without waiting for a response. “How’s my third favorite mogul doing?”
The office was immaculate. No clutter or mess. Not even a wastebasket to be seen. There was a long filing cabinet behind a desk topped with a small collection of knickknacks, with two chairs set in front of it. Mila sat behind her desk, standing up as soon as he barged in, yelling back, “Du widerlicher Hurensohn! How the hell are you, old friend?”
She walked around the desk and gave him a firm embrace, picking him up several inches off the ground despite being a full foot shorter than him. She wore a long skirt with a thick sweater and had flowing blonde hair. Her skin was flawless and white as porcelain, and that, paired with her small frame, made her seem frail, but her lifting Discord told a different story.
“I’d say I’m doing all right. I’ve been eating my kale, getting into the stock market, and young-looking ladies keep picking me up, so life’s good. How about you, mein fraulein?”
She let him down and chuckled. “Business is booming, the guests are happy, and Kuchenparty has the highest ratings in the country! Life is good!”
The two shared a laugh until Mila noticed Derrek standing just outside her door. She looked him over, taking note of his hair and eyes, and ushered him in, closing the door behind him.
She glared at Discord and got in his face, grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt. “You brought a Hauch Von Tod to my hotel? You might as well have shot up a flare! He’ll bring every poacher in the EU breaking down my door! I want him out!”
Discord raised his hands in defense and tried to inch away from her. “Hey, hey, he brought me here! Besides, if any poachers showed up, you know I’d be here as soon as you called! At least hear me out, and if you’re still mad at me, I won’t blame you.”
She stared at him for a few more seconds before letting him go in a huff. She took her seat behind her desk and gestured to the two seats in front of her for the men to sit, which they did. Mila held her hands in a pyramid and leaned forward, making Derrek uncomfortable while Discord did his best to act casual.
After several seconds of tense silence passed, Discord tried to speak up until Mila interrupted him.
“So, explain to me why you thought it was appropriate to bring one of his kind here?” she said, staring daggers at Derrek.
“Now, you’re gonna think this is hilarious,” Discord said, which got a frosty look from Mila, “but this dude here has actually been staying here for a while.”
Mila’s eye was visibly twitching; she was not amused.
“But,” Discord said, “he’s only been like this for a few hours and had absolutely no idea about any of the weirdness of the world.”
“Weirdness?” she asked with a scowl.
“Oh, come on, you know what I mean, the stuff not everyone knows about. You should’ve seen his face when I told him there was an afterlife!” he said with a big smile, trying unsuccessfully to change the mood.
He sighed deeply and dropped the smile. “Look, I’ve got a lot riding on this kid, and I need to make sure he stays somewhere safe until he can get his jazz under control. Plus, you owe me one. Remember that problem you had a few years back?”
Mila slammed her hands on her desk. “Exterminating a few feral deadlings does not equate to putting my entire staff in danger! Give me one good reason to allow him to stay, or so help me, I’ll have you both banned!”
“All right,” Discord said, leaning forward. “He’s the Devourer.”
Mila leaned back in her chair, her hands falling into her lap, her eyes wide in shock. After several seconds of staring at them in silence, in a stern tone, she said, “Get out.”
“Now, hold on—”
“Get out now.”
“He’s with the Frostbyte party. Don’t you think it’ll look suspicious if you kick him out for no reason?”
“Don’t you think it’ll be even more suspicious that he suddenly has white hair and a different colored eye?”
“Fair point, but think about it—having him around would make for some good protection if anything happens while we’re here.”
Mila raised her eyebrows. “We? Are you intending to stay here as well?”
“For as long as he does,” Discord said, gesturing to Derrek.
“You sure have been quiet,” Mila said to Derrek. “What do you have to say about all this?”
Derrek had been sitting quietly the entire time, feeling uncomfortable being talked about while still being in the room. He took a moment to compose himself. “I’d hate to impose, Ms. Müller, and by the sounds of it, having me around would be dangerous. If you think it’s best, I’ll talk it over with my boss and make arrangements for the soonest flight home.”
Discord and Mila sat in stunned silence, staring at Derrek.
“What?” they both said in unison.
“It just seems like I’m a danger now, and I’d hate to be the reason anyone got hurt.”
Mila and Discord looked at each other until Discord spoke up.
“You see how much he cares? I’m not bringing you a blind devourer. He actually has a conscience. I would never bring a threat into your home, but I know you have a lot at stake, so whatever your decision on letting us stay, we’ll respect your judgment.”
Mila reformed her finger pyramid and stared them down for a full moment before loudly exhaling. She looked Derrek in the eye and said, “Fine, you can stay.” She then looked at Discord. “But you have to pay for a room.”
Discord jumped up from his chair and extended his arm. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Ms. Müller! But I’m gonna eat and drink your entire inventory, really get my money’s worth.”
She sighed and reluctantly shook his hands. “Fine, but you have to keep an eye on him at all times, and I swear, if he lays a finger on any of my staff, I’ll mount both of your heads over my door. Understood?”
Derrek was terrified, and Discord looked no better. In a shaky tone, they both said, “Understood.”
“Good. Now, was there anything else?”
“Yeah, actually,” Discord said. “I wanted your blessing to fill him in on what goes on around here.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Come on, he’s a lot smarter than he looks, and I’m pretty sure the reaper’s touch supercharged his thinker. He’ll figure it out on his own if we don’t let him know now. Plus, I already gave him the whole gods and monsters spiel, and he took it pretty well. I assure you, Fräulein, he can be trusted.”
Mila stared him down, and she saw the sincerity in his eyes. She looked at Derrek, groaned, and said, “Fine, but my threat of taxidermy still stands if either of you let it slip.” This renewed his terror and made Discord excited.
“Can I tell him?” Discord asked, jumping up and down in his chair.
“Fine, but you’re on thin ice.”
He pumped his fist in excitement. “All right!” he said, then turning to Derrek. “So, you know something’s off about this place, right?”
Derrek thought for a moment. “Well, I thought the pricing was weird—single rooms costing less per person and all. I’ve got a lot of holes in my memory. Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen a clock since I got here, and I have no idea how this place stays afloat with everything included for five hundred dollars for the entire month.”
Discord nodded in approval. “Now, I’m gonna give you one guess as to what’s really going on here.”
Derrek thought for several seconds. All he could come up with were ideas of embezzlement or the use of the hotel as a front for something shadier, but something told him that whatever the truth was, it wasn’t that.
“I have no idea,” he said to Discord’s delight.
“Vampires!” Discord exclaimed.
“What?” Derrek asked, not sure he heard him correctly.
Mila spoke up. “The majority of my staff, myself included, are what your people refer to as vampires.”
After saying that, she opened her mouth wide, revealing a normal set of teeth. She then flexed her jaw, and a second set of needle-like teeth slid out through her gums, covering the first set. They were jagged and filled her smile, causing Derrek to jump back in surprise, although he did manage to keep silent.
He took a moment to compose himself, then asked, “Do you … feed on your patrons?”
She flexed her jaw again, instantly retracting the sharp set of teeth, allowing her to say, “Yes, but not in the way you might think.” She looked at Discord, who was still jumping with glee.
“Vampires can be split into three major groups,” he said, “the Black Hand, the White Hand, and ferals. The ferals are just that—mindless blood-seeking creatures. The Black Hand are like classic vampires, living in secret, coming out at night to feed on human blood. The White Hand, however, finds ways to live without feeding, some living on the emotions of others, as our friend Miss Müller here can attest to.”
“We give our guests the time of their lives,” she said, “and we sustain ourselves on their memories of their individual experiences, which you know as having holes in your memory. They still get the experience as well as remembering it as pleasant. For instance, if they eat from our dining hall, they will have memories of the taste and texture but will not have specific memories of eating the meal. You may find it immoral, but this way, we are able to live in comfort and peace and provide luxurious relaxation for all who walk through our doors.”
Derrek was baffled, but he understood where she was coming from. He pieced together that his memories had been fed on the entire time he had stayed there, from the meals to the hours he spent watching Kuchenparty. After that realization, he took several seconds to compose his thoughts.
“I understand that the memories are the main reason you’re open, and since, according to you, it’s a peaceful alternative to hunting humans, I don’t see any problem with it,” he said to the relief of Mila. “But I do have some questions, if you don’t mind my asking.”
“That depends. What kind of questions?”
“Mostly about the logistics of the hotel, but a couple about vampires. I understand if you don’t want me to ask them, though.”
“No, feel free. I’ll let you know if I prefer not to answer.”
“Thank you. Now, I was the one who booked the Frostbyte party, so I’m fully aware of your low rates, especially for a single room, getting a month where the same price elsewhere might get a couple of nights’ stay. My question, then, is how do you stay open with such small profit margins?”
Mila was taken aback, as she hadn’t expected such a concise, thought-out question, especially after revealing her vampiric nature. “Our rates are calculated to be able to cover our human staff’s wages, as we fangs are ill-suited for daytime work. Contrary to popular belief, sunlight doesn’t kill us, but it can lead to extreme irritation and burns after just seconds of exposure, so having humans around who can cover the day shift is very useful. As for the rest of the expenses, I have many investments and a diverse portfolio, including stocks in all major international companies and many different cryptocurrencies, and the interest on all of them combined is more than able to cover it.”
“That makes sense, and that’s been bugging me since I saw your prices,” Derrek said. He then remembered what Discord said in the hallway and asked, “What does ‘fangless’ mean?”
Mila was surprised he knew the word but didn’t seem to be offended. “We call ourselves fangs for obvious reasons. With our lifestyle, our true teeth get little use, but some among us still made the decision to have them removed to take away any temptation of feeding. They are known as fangless.”
Derrek nodded, then looked to Discord, who had his arms crossed. “Told you it’d get explained.”
Derrek looked back at Mila. “I’ve only got one more question: Did you say you had something to do with Kuchenparty?”
For the first time since she noticed Derrek, Mila smiled. “Yes, actually, it’s a bit of a passion project of mine. It also helps the feedings, as one can gather a lot of joy from watching it, which I’m sure you’re aware of.”
“Absolutely! I lost three hours on that show in the blink of an eye on my first day here!”
“I’m glad you enjoy it, I don’t get to speak to many fans about it, as I opted to keep my name out of the credits for the sake of secrecy.”
“I can see how that would make things difficult,” Derrek said, glad to see her mood had finally lifted.
Mila spoke to both men. “Well, Cordy, you and your friend may stay, as long as you adhere to our conditions.”
Derrek wasn’t sure he heard her right. “Cordy?”
Discord looked at him with the same smile he always wore. “Hey, what can I say? I love nicknames. Ain’t that right, Milly?”
Mila narrowed her eyes at Discord, and in a flash, grabbed a letter opener off of her desk, and threw it, hitting him in the center of his forehead, embedding it to the hilt. He hadn’t so much as blinked, and with the blade still lodged in his skull, he said, “That’s fair. You warned me this would happen if I called you that again. This is on me.” He casually yanked it out, and the wound closed seconds later.
Derrek was taken off guard by the attack but remained calm aside from an initial jump. After wiping his blood from the letter opened, which blended in perfectly with his red coat, Discord placed it back where it once was, perfectly in line with a row of pens.
“Hold up. My noggin still has some damage. Can’t wiggle my toes,” Discord said, gently hitting the side of his head with his palm. “Gotta make sure it heals right. Last time my headpiece messed up I was stranded in Alaska, totally convinced I was a lumberjack.”
He hit himself hard on his right temple, making an audible crack. His body fell limp. His eyes glazed over, and he began to drool before coming back to his senses all at once.
“There we are, a quick reboot and we’re good to go!”
Mila sighed. “You know I hate it when you do that. It’s weird.”
“Said the vampire to the reincarnation of an ancient being created to kill another reincarnation of another ancient being, whom he was sitting next to.”
“Nobody asked for your sass, Cordy,” Mila said, fighting back a smile.
“Nobody ever does.”
The three of them shared a hearty laugh, after which Mila looked as if she realized something. She opened a desk drawer and rummaged around in it, eventually pulling out a small white container.
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“Here,” she said, handing the container to Derrek. “I think those will come in handy.”
He held it and recognized it as a container for contacts, as Jenkins had been through a phase a year prior where he thought his glasses made him look old. Opening it, he found a pair of color contacts in a shade of brown similar to his own, aside from his newly green eye.
“They may not match perfectly with your natural hue,” Mila said, “but it should help avoid suspicion. I’m not sure what to do about your hair though … maybe we could dye it?”
Discord spoke up. “Won’t work. Reaper-white consumes all color. You’d just be wasting perfectly good dye. What’s your opinion on hats?”
“I literally cannot think of a time I’ve willingly worn a hat,” Derrek said.
Discord leaned forward in his chair. “Plan C it is then. As far as the story goes, after you left the site, you stopped for a beer, met some eccentric weirdo, drank a lot more beer, and ended up getting your hair dyed whilst you were wasted.”
Derrek thought about the story, committing it to memory. “Easy enough to remember, and most of it’s true, just in a different order of events.”
Discord perked back up and slapped him on the back. “Atta boy! See, Mila? Like I said, smarter than he looks!”
“Smart, yes,” Mila said, glaring at Discord, “but even the smart ones can do stupid things.”
He smiled. “If I were anyone else, I’d probably take offense to that.”
Derrek chimed in, “If you were anyone else, you probably would’ve died three times today.”
Everyone laughed, and when it subsided, Derrek decided to have a go at putting on his new contacts. As he never needed them before then, he had a bit of difficulty getting them lined up properly. After some prodding and a lot of blinking, he got them lined up and could see just as well as he could before. Mila opened a drawer and pulled out an ornate mirror and handed it to him.
It was the first time he had taken a good look at himself since his transformation, aside from a few glances in the side view mirror of the SUV, and was surprised to see how natural they looked. Upon closer inspection, he saw a very faint shade of green from his left eye, but figured it would suffice, as very few people would be close enough to tell, and it could easily be explained away by saying it was a trick of the light.
“What do you think?” Mila asked.
“They look great. Thank you, Ms. Müller.”
“Oh, please, call me Mila. Any friend of Cordy is a friend of mine.”
“All right, thank you, Mila.”
Mila smiled warmly, then looked at a clock hanging on the wall opposite to her and her eyes widened.
“Scheiße! I’ve got a meeting two towns over to get to!” she said as she hurried to her feet and gathered several of her belongings on her way to the door, including her coat, her purse, and a dagger she strapped to her calf so it would remain covered by her skirt.
“I keep telling you, Fräulein, a gun would serve you better. I even picked one up on the way here if you want it,” Discord said, producing the gun he claimed as a trophy from the fight earlier.
“Put that away,” Mila said. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: not every problem can be solved by shooting at it. Besides, I have to keep my nose clean if I want this hotel to stay afloat.”
“Suit yourself,” Discord said, tucking the pistol back into his coat.
“I’ve got to be off. See yourselves out and keep our agreement in mind. If all goes well, I’ll be back before morning,” she said, halfway through the door.
She put her hand on the door frame for a moment and looked back at Derrek with a look of suspicion, which shifted to a faint smile as she left. She had protected the staff of the Schadenfreude for so long, and she wasn’t sure if letting him stay was the best move, but she was sure that she trusted Discord’s judgment.
Back in her office, the men remained in their respective seats, Derrek still looking in the mirror, making sure the contacts stayed in place, and Discord fiddling with a bird that dipped into a glass of water.
Suddenly, Discord shot up from his chair. “All right, let’s get some grub!”
Derrek looked up at him and nodded his head silently, then carefully set down the mirror on Mila’s desk. The two made their way to the dining hall, Discord overtly waving to the receptionist who responded with an evil glare. It was clear she was no longer a fan of either of them.
As soon as they entered the dining hall, Derrek realized more time had passed than he thought, as the room was nearly empty. Discord picked out the same table Jeffrey had for every meal he ate there. Apparently, it was universally ideal. The two took their seats and they were quickly met with a familiar face.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” Emmett said. “Is there anything I can get you to drink? Perhaps an appetizer?”
“How’s it hanging, choir boy?” Discord said.
Emmett was confused as to how he knew his name but quickly realized who he was talking to. “Ah, Herr Discord! It’s been quite a while since your last visit. Might I ask what the occasion is?”
“Same old life. Just happened to bring me around these parts. How’re you doing? Adjusting all right?”
Emmett looked at Derrek suspiciously, then back to Discord. “Does he …?”
“He knows, bud, and Mila knows he knows, so we’re on the level.”
Emmett seemed relieved. “Well, it’s been a difficult few years, but the people here are so accommodating! Every step of the way, Frau Müller has been by my side. The transition to this lifestyle can be … hard. But I’ve settled in nicely.”
“I’m glad to hear it, bud. Any chance me and my friend here could get a couple of bottles of liquor?”
“Setting in for the night, huh? Any preference?”
“Dealer’s choice. As long as it’s good, it’ll tide us over while we look at the menus.”
“Right away, sirs,” Emmett said as he went off to fetch their drinks.
Derrek looked over at Discord. “You really do know everyone, don’t you?”
“Damn right. What’re you hungry for?”
Derrek stared at the menu, weighing his options. Discord chimed in. “You should get the Sauerbraten. It’s one of their best dishes.”
“That’s interesting. I had that for my first meal here. It was really good.”
“True, but they were sapping your memories then. Imagine how it would be with your brainwaves intact.”
“Humph,” Derrek said. “You make a good point.”
Just then, Emmett returned, holding two bottles of Steel Barrel whiskey, placing one gently next to each of them along with a single crystalline glass he was balancing on his forearms.
“Have you decided on your orders?” Emmett asked as Discord had already chugged a third of his bottle.
Derrek took one last look at his menu, then up at Emmett. “I think I’ll go with the Sauerbraten.”
Discord came back up for air and slammed his bottle down on the table. “I’ll take one of everything off your dinner menu thrown into a giant bowl. Oh, and a diet cola. I’m trying to watch my figure.”
Emmett smiled and wrote down “Discord special” underneath Derrek’s order. It was at this point Derrek realized Discord hadn’t even looked at his menu, which Emmett collected before walking away.
Discord went back to drinking his whiskey, polishing it off and placing the empty bottle on the corner of the table to be collected. Derrek looked at him for a few seconds, impressed that he could drink an entire bottle of whiskey in less than a minute even though he saw him drink at least three gallons worth of beer not an hour earlier.
“How can you drink so much?” he asked as he poured himself a glass of his own whiskey.
Discord belched loudly. “My metabolism works almost instantly, and my liver processes it so quickly I have to either drink enough to kill a lesser man to feel any of it, or I have to destroy my liver before I go out.”
“You’re immortal, right?”
“Far as I know.”
“Do you even need to eat, then?”
Discord gave a slight laugh. “Pretty much all my biological functions are optional. I don’t need air, food, water, sleep, shelter, clothing, heat, or any amount of my biomass at any given time. Really pisses people off when they can’t kill me after cutting my head off. Man, you should’ve seen King Louis! His face when I kept talking while my head rolled around!”
Discord then started laughing intensely, slapping his hands on the table, causing his empty bottle to shake and jump, nearly knocking it over. After several seconds, he collected himself. “Eh, I guess you had to be there.”
“I suppose so.”
Immediately after Derrek spoke, the two saw Emmett standing before them, a plate of Sauerbraten in one hand and a comically large bowl in the other, which he placed in front of the men. After setting the food down, it was revealed he was also carrying a glass of iced cola in the crevice of his elbow, which he gingerly placed next to the bowl.
“Can I get you gentlemen anything else while I’m here?”
Derrek looked to Discord, who shook his head no, then said to Emmett, “I think we’re good for now, but thank you very much.”
Emmett smiled and silently nodded, bowing slightly, then hurried off to another table; he was apparently the only waiter working at the time.
Derrek looked around his surroundings to see if anyone was in earshot, and when he saw the coast was clear, he leaned in toward Discord and whispered, “So, is he a vampire too?”
Discord replied in his normal speaking voice, “Yeah, but they generally prefer to be called fangs. Vampire is kind of a slur to them.”
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”
“But yeah, Emmett’s probably the youngest fang here and the freshest face. In fact, I’m the one who got him here,” Discord said as he turned to watch Emmett work.
“Every fang has unique abilities. Choir boy here can get into people’s heads, make them do what he wants, or figure out what they want. As far as it goes, it’s one of the stronger fang abilities. He was a victim, as many of the fangs here once were, of the greed of others. Some piece-of-shit pastor was using him to get his congregation to pour their life’s savings straight into his pockets. Kidnapped him and kept him hidden from the world in the church basement. I don’t make a habit of defiling religious sites, but I feel no remorse for burning that church to the ground.”
“Huh …” Derrek said, looking at Emmett the same as Discord was.
The idea of every fang having a unique power, for whatever reason, resonated with Derrek, and a thought suddenly struck him.
“Do you know what Mila’s is?”
Discord looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a flat expression. It was clear he wasn’t sure if he should answer the question at all, but he didn’t want to just brush Derrek off entirely.
“Honestly, I do know, but it isn’t my place to say. Maybe you could ask her the next time you see her.”
“You’re right. That would probably be more appropriate.”
Discord clapped his hands together, regaining Derrek’s attention. “Enough chitchat, let’s dig in!”
He then unwrapped his goldware and dug his fork into the bowl, pulling out an entire ribeye steak which he ate in a hardy three bites, then reaching into his mouth and pulling out the bone he had stuck in his throat. After gnawing on the bone and getting all the meat off, he dug right back in, going through entire feasts worth of food faster than Derrek could watch.
He eventually shook it off and decided to start his own meal and was immediately struck with the symphony of flavors and the tenderness of the meat. It was cooked to perfection, and brought Derrek back to his first meal, except he was able to experience every single bite. In a flash, he was done, but he remembered every bite, and finally had a full understanding of how, and why, the hotel was the way it was.
When he took his last bite, he looked to see Discord holding his bowl up, slurping up the juices that had accumulated at the bottom of his pile of a feast in the same way one would drink the broth from a soup. After several seconds and several sideways glances from others dining, he finished his meal, slamming down his bowl and letting out a belch that, despite him doing his best to stifle it, had enough force to cause the table to visibly vibrate. Derrek caught a glance of the inside of the bowl and found it completely empty—not a speck of food to be seen.
“Satisfied yet?” Derrek asked Discord, who was slumped back in his chair, patting his swollen stomach.
“For now, but now that we sit with full bellies, we have something to discuss.”
“Then by all means, lay it on me.”
Discord then sat forward, straightening his back, his stomach visibly retracting to its original size. He leaned over the table and spoke with a serious tone.
“I know I’ve been unhelpfully vague in general, brushing off what seems like important info, telling you to wait for it to reveal itself, and I might’ve dropped more on you all at once than I should’ve. I know I haven’t even really explained why I’m sticking around you, and I appreciate you going along with it. But I have a reason for it all, and I have a plan, but I needed to know you were willing to go along with it before I proposed it to you. I want you to guess what my plan is.”
Derrek pondered the question. From his perspective, Discord was acting as a guide into the world he had lived in his entire life but had never known. To him, reality stopped seeming real immediately after his hair turned white.
He took a sip from his glass and thought of Shale. He thought of the man who took him from nothing and molded him into the hard-working man he was. He thought of Jeffrey, who only days before had taught him the value of training not only one’s mind but one’s body. He looked at Discord and realized just how much of them he saw in the man sitting before him.
He still wasn’t sure of whatever plan Discord could have come up with, but he collected his thoughts and put forth the best he could come up with.
“My best guess is you want to train me to not be overcome by the Devourer.”
Discord smiled. “You keep impressing me, you know that?”
Derrek was surprised by that and replied, “Excuse me?”
“Everything you’ve done. I’m certain anybody else in your position would have either turned tail and ran away or gone power-mad after the whole reaper thing. You weren’t in control when you devoured Boyd, but you snapped back into it once it was said and done. You did your best to stop the fight back at the pub, and even though it didn’t work, we still managed to take them all down without killing them. And I swear, if you didn’t make such a good impression on Mila, we wouldn’t even be sitting here right now.
“At every turn, you’ve made the right choice, and by the looks of it, everything lined up perfectly so that the right person was standing on the right spot on the right day at just the right time. The universe isn’t just a place, Havok. It’s a living, breathing thing. It thinks and feels just as we do, albeit on a much bigger scale, and it pushes events to happen when they’re supposed to happen. I wholeheartedly believe we were pushed together so we can finally bring an end to the constant cycle of death and destruction that comes with the whole devourer/warrior spirit feud—to stop some otherworldly evil from popping up every fifty-odd years and to stop me from hunting them all down.
“You may not fully understand it yet, but it seems to me you’re destined for something great, and even though I hate being destiny’s lackey, it seems I’m destined to lead you down the right path. So now I ask you: Do you feel the same way?”
Derrek looked out the window, briefly catching a glance of a snow-white owl perched on the other side of the huge field. Despite the vast distance, he saw it clearly, and he looked into its eyes. In that instant, which lasted less than a second, he understood what Discord meant.
“Yes, I do,” he said, looking back at Discord with a smile.
Without saying a word, Discord grabbed the remaining bottle of whiskey and poured his own glass, raising it toward Derrek.
“To a new future and a better world,” he said with conviction.
Derrek raised his glass to meet his toast, and they both drank. They slammed down their glasses in unison, getting the attention of Emmett, who made his way to their table.
“I see everything was to your liking. Would you like me to bring your bill?”
“Bill?” Derrek asked. “I thought meals were complimentary.”
“Oh, they are, Herr Snowe, but I just received a phone call with explicit instructions from Frau Müller to charge Herr Discord for every expense he partakes in.”
Discord sighed. “Can you just put it on my tab?”
“I’m afraid not, sir. Frau Müller was very particular with her instructions. ‘Cordy is to pay for every penny he costs us as soon as he finishes partaking,’ and I don’t believe a tab would suffice. And if I remember correctly, you have a hefty unpaid tab with us already, which I was also instructed to collect,” Emmett said with his arms behind his back.
“Shit.”
Derrek leaned over the table and whispered, “I can cover you if need be.”
“Nah, I got hella cash, and besides, I doubt you’ve got one point two mil on you.”
“Huh, one point two million? How do you even accumulate that much debt?”
“Gold-flake milkshakes.”
Derrek decided not to ask further, as he was already rummaging around in his coat, presumably for money. Emmett has been holding a platter behind him, which he had set on the table, and Discord was producing several stacks of bills and piling them up in a pyramid shape.
“That’s one point four million in five hundred euro bills so I can get ahead of myself. Make sure you put on the invoice that I said, ‘I thought killing the deadlings would cover this.’”
“I will be sure to, sir,” Emmett said as he pulled out a large handkerchief from his pocket, using it to cover the pile of money. He balanced it on his right palm, collecting their plates and glasses with his left. “I hope you have a pleasant evening, gentlemen,” he said, and he walked away.
Discord looked upset but not angry as he stared out the window. It was clear to Derrek that he had been aware of the debt and was likely avoiding it, and it was possibly the reason he hadn’t visited in so long. He figured a change in the subject may help his mood, and he had a new question to ask.
“So, what are deadlings?”
Discord quickly shifted his gaze to him and put on a fresh smile.
“Deadlings are the most common form of undead and occur when some kind of external force causes one’s soul to be bound to a body, regardless of how alive the body is. They’re usually caused by some low-level necromancer trying his hand at some more advanced stuff, but they have been known to pop up due to some supernatural strain of a disease, a high level of spiritual energy mixed with some industrial waste, or someone just having so much willpower that they refuse to fully die. Usually they’re just some mindless zombies like you see in movies, just wandering about aimlessly, but sometimes, they remain sentient.
“A few years back, a herd of about fifty of them started hanging out in those woods over there,” he said, pointing out the window, “but they don’t usually come out during the day. Makes them rot. Some of the fangs wanted to deal with it themselves, but Mila wouldn’t have any of it. I swear, she considers her entire staff family.”
Discord had a smile on his face, but it was different from his usual cocky grin. It was warmer and caring.
“So, she gave me a call, and I wiped them out in about an hour. They aren’t too much trouble. The hardest part about fighting them is making sure you get them all, because if you let even a single one live, they can get the whole damn herd back up to numbers in a week. If you shoot them just right, they pop like a balloon! It’s great.”
He stared out the window, looking longingly at the woods. He eventually looked back and poured himself another drink from Derrek’s bottle, drinking it down in one gulp. He stood up and grabbed the bottle, signaling for Derrek to follow.
Discord led him to the lobby, and they both did their best to avoid dirty looks from the receptionist, and Derrek made a mental note to learn her name. They went up to the roof and took a seat on the same bench Derrek had shared with LaFayette several nights before.
They passed the bottle back and forth, taking sips and admiring the stars. Once Discord threw back the final gulp, he looked at the bottle, then back at the stars. Then the bottle. Then the stars.
He stood up and threw the bottle high in the air, pulled out a suppressed pistol, and fired a single silent shot. Derrek was surprised but didn’t flinch as the shards of glass rained down around him, as he could see he was in no danger: Discord had somehow shot it so precisely, the glass formed a perfect outline of a circle around them.
“Did you have to do that?” Derrek asked.
“No, but if I didn’t, they’d win.”
“They? Who are they?”
“They.”
Discord gave him a look that said, I dare you to question this, and Derrek decided to drop it. The two leaned back and stared up at the stars, the infinite expanse of empty space and lights. Derrek had done this before in the exact same spot, but he had a newfound appreciation for the unknown that surrounded the planet he called home.
He remembered he had access to seemingly all the knowledge of the universe through Discord, the only man he had ever met who claimed to speak to God and gave a solid reason to believe him.
“Discord, can I ask you something?”
“Go for it.”
“What’s the meaning of it all?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, earth, humans, monsters—everything, I guess. Is there some grand plan beyond mortal understanding, or is it all just truly random? Are we all born with meaning, or do we pave our own paths? Humans have spent thousands of years looking for these answers, and I figured you just might have them.”
It was too dark for Derrek to see, but his words made Discord smile wide. He let a few seconds pass as he formed his sentences and tried to find a satisfying answer.
“There isn’t anything predetermined. Even things that destiny pushes toward are not set in stone. They’re more like suggestions from the universe. You already know how it all began, with you eating me billions of years ago, but as far as I know, there was nothing further behind it. And personally, I think humans spend way too much time looking for an answer when there isn’t even a question to ask. They consume their lives in pursuit of a higher power or some kind of vindication for their very existence when all there is for them is a shrug and a middle finger.”
He turned to make eye contact with Derrek. “Don’t worry about the big answers; they’re never gonna make sense. Look for what makes you happy—that’s all you need for an existence that goes for a max of one hundred thirty years.”
Derrek saw sincerity in Discord’s eyes, but he also saw a flash of sadness before he turned away and looked back at the stars.
“Although,” he resumed, “I’ve gotta give it to humans: no other creature on earth would ever do as they did. No fang would ever build an empire. No jiangshi would ever invent the car. No Lamia would aspire to something larger than their base needs. None of the species on this planet could ever compete with the raw ambition that is synonymous with humanity.”
He paused as a meteor passed over the two, sending a streak of light across the sky.
“You may not be human anymore, but you know what it’s like. A lot of things used to be human too, but they tend to lose their humanity pretty quick. Keep your head and keep yourself, and I’d be willing to bet anything you’ll do great things.”
They sat in silence, letting the time pass and dwelling on the events of the day. Derrek wasn’t sure if he could have stayed as calm if Discord hadn’t stuck by his side, even with the reaper’s touch. He would have been blindly stumbling around, with no idea what had happened to him and no idea he was able to control his powers, even though he couldn’t yet.
Discord had shown no sign he was going to leave, and he made it clear he was going to stay for as long as he was needed. Derrek got the feeling that he truly cared not only about him but about everything and everyone on some level. Despite knowing him for only a few hours, he was proud to call him a friend.
After about thirty minutes, Discord stood up.
“It’s getting pretty late, and I’ve got some business to attend to. You should probably get yourself some sleep. You might actually need it.”
“What? You don’t know if I need to sleep?” Derrek asked.
“In your case, not one bit. Hosts of the Devourer have the same biological needs as any other member of their species—since, for all intents and purposes, that’s what they are—but you ate a Reaper. I’ve never seen a devourer get one, and I have no idea what kind of effect that could have on a normal human, let alone one with a reaper’s touch. We’re in uncharted territory. Gotta play it by ear.”
“Fair enough. I’ll set in for the night,” Derrek said as he stood and extended his arm for a handshake.
“Nope, not my style,” Discord said as he embraced Derrek, lifting him a full foot off the ground, pinning his arms to his sides and crushing his torso. He didn’t remember the pain from having his entire spine dislocated earlier, but he assumed it felt something like that.
As suddenly as he had picked Derrek up, he dropped him, and he just barely landed on his feet. He took a moment to stretch and reset his shoulders as Discord stood before him, hands on his hips.
“I’m a hugger.”
As Derrek realigned his spine, Discord had climbed atop the railing, the toes of his boots hanging over the edge as he balanced himself perfectly on the inch-wide surface.
“Training starts tomorrow. Get whatever rest you can,” Discord said, his coat swaying in the breeze.
“All right. See you then,” Derrek said, unfazed by his choice in places to stand.
Discord smiled one last time, then turned around to face Derrek. He saluted and took a step backward, free-falling to the ground.
Derrek looked over the ledge to find exactly what he expected: nothing. As he suspected, Discord was long gone. He smiled and went to the elevator, making his way back to his room to set in for the night.