Loud music was blaring from the garage of a beige, sandy colored house, located in a suburb of Phoenix. The garage door was open, offering a peek of what was inside. The hood was up on a black Chevrolet Camaro ZL1, and tools were carefully spread out on a bench nearby. A lone individual, currently bent over from the left side of the vehicle, wrench in hand as he worked on the engine, sang along with the music as he worked.
It was evening, garage lights as well as shop l flights were on to help him see. There had already been at least one complaint from a neighbor about the music, but he didn’t care. It helped him focus. He was tightening a bolt when his phone began to ring. Pausing a moment, he walked over to the bench to see who was calling, wrinkled his nose, swiped the call away, and set the phone back down before heading back to the car and beginning his work again.
The phone rang again, but he ignored it, and kept working. When the fourth call began, he just started grumbling. “He’s just going to keep calling me, and calling me…and eventually probably summon me if I don’t pick up.” He gripped the wrench hard, the urge to throw it was strong. But, he took it back over to the bench, wiped his greasy hands with a rag, and answered.
“What do you want, Marcus?” he growled.
“My, aren’t we in a mood.” Marcus said, sounding amused. “Is that really any way to greet me, Jarrett?”
“Don’t call me that.” he snapped.
“I can call you whatever I want.” Marcus retorted.
“I’m hanging up now.” Jett replied, moving to do just that.
“Feel free. I’ll just summon you.” Marcus said. “In fact, perhaps I’ll do that anyway. I’d love to see you.”
“Fuck off.” he said, putting the phone back to his ear. “What do you want?”
“To talk.” he explained. “Now turn off that dreadful music, stop tinkering with your car, and head inside.”
Jett grumbled some rather colorful language as he shut off the music and closed the garage. He took his sweet time doing it, since he was aggravated, and it was only exacerbated by Marcus lightly humming on the other end.
“If you don’t calm down, I might just show up and make you.” Marcus eventually said after Jett took too long for his patience.
That statement made Jett freeze. “Please don’t.” he found himself saying.
“Are you settled yet?” Marcus asked.
“Go.” Jett said, reaching into the fridge for a beer before making his way to the living room to sit down.
“There’s something that’s been weighing on my mind as of late, about kin of mine.” Marcus began.
“What kin? You don’t have family.” Jett snorted as he took a drink.
“I have clan.” Marcus reminded him.
“Touché.” he conceded, taking another drink.
“There is man who, I feel, is being irresponsible with his abilities.” he began.
“So chastise him for it. Shouldn’t be hard for you.” he replied.
“I can’t.” Marcus sighed.
“Why not?” he wondered.
“He’s my elder.” Marcus explained.
“Who the hell is older than you, that’s still awake?” Jett said incredulously.
“A rather respected man.” Marcus said, a hint of irritation in his voice.
“Alright, alright.” Jett said, picking up the hint. “So how is he being irresponsible?”
“One of our abilities is to be able to reach back through time and retrieve objects. I believe I have told you this, yes?” he asked.
“Yea, I think so.” he replied.
“This man use that ability to retrieve a child’s toy for his infatuation.” Marcus said with disdain.
“His infatuation a kid?” Jett asked pointedly.
“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s a grown woman.” he scoffed.
“Better than you.” he spat back.
Marcus was silent for a while. It had been a long enough silence, that Jett was about to hang up, when he spoke again. “Uncalled for, don’t you think?”
“You know exactly what I think.” he said after chugging some of the beer. “So what’s the big deal, anyway?”
“Doing this requires immense effort, and causes extreme pain.” he explained.
“What kind of pain?” he asked.
“Like damage from fire, or sun.” Marcus continued.
“Well that’s stupid. What’dya expect me to do about it?” Jett asked as he frowned.
“I hardly think there’s anything you could do, mea voluptas unica.”
“Oh come on, you know I don’t know my Latin.”
Jett could practically hear the smile. “Well, I guess you should learn. But back to the topic at hand. How would you handle the situation? He’s older than I, in both generation and age. Keep that in mind.”
Jett thought for a long moment. “Find someone they would listen to. Someone they respect. Explain the situation to them so they can talk to the old man.”
Marcus chuckled. “Of course. Excellent then. I have a job for you.”
“For me? Why me?” Jet asked, nearly doing a spit take.
“Because if you don’t, I’ll give you what you least want.” Marcus explained.
Jett grumbled. “I don’t want to get involved in vampire bullshit.”
“If I have to get involved, you’re going to be more present in my life, and behaving like a proper ghoul, do you understand?” he said sternly.
Jett sighed. “So who am I supposed to talk to.”
“Ms Octavia West. She owns a club called Arcadia — do you know it?” he asked.
“I know of it, yeah.” Jett explained, frowning at his empty bottle.
“Good. You’ll go there, and tell her you are passing along concerns about Adam Pierce. Got that?” he instructed.
“Yeah yeah.” Jett said as he got up, tossing the bottle into the trash, and reaching for another.
“Do it sooner, rather than later.”
“And Jett?”
“Yeah?”
“I know where you are. I always do. So do this soon, or I will come claim you, and force you to play your role.”
“Sir, yes sir.” Jett said, emphasis on the last word, before hanging up. His tone had been heavily sarcastic, but Marcus did know how to push his buttons.
The last thing he wanted was to be more of a lackey than he already was. He didn’t want to get involved with other vampires more than he had to in order to survive, anyway. And now, he had to speed rush this task, because who knew when Marcus would decide he’d waited long enough.
First, though, he needed to fix his car. Heading back into the garage, he flipped on the overhead and shop lights, and set the beer on the workbench. Picking up the wrench, he headed back to work under the hood of his baby.