Page 8 of Caroled
Finally Donne gave Ferencz another poke and turned his attention to Charles. “Everything’s been quiet around here lately. Abe nabbed the jiangshi we were after, but keep an eye open. Those bastards tend to come in groups. We’ve heard a few mumblings about people disappearing, but that’s not unusual in this city. More likely the SFPD’s problem than ours. There’s an active witch coven near Twin Peaks, but they’re not doing any harm. Nice folks, in fact. Other than that—”
“I’ve been noticing a lot of ghosts,” Ferencz interrupted. “Near the Embarcadero.. And near the Presidio and the forts. At the shipyards in Richmond, the Benicia Arsenal… basically anywhere strongly associated with the war effort.” He glanced quickly at Donne. “Soldiers and sailors. They’re not hurting anyone either. You can ignore them.”
Charles, who wasn’t fond of ghosts, was happy to hear that. “So is there anything we should be concerned about?”
Donne shrugged. “Just keep your eyes and ears open. We’ve got a pretty good network of informants, so if we hear anything from them we’ll let you know. Also, Abe and I made you a list of contacts to use if you want—a couple of decent joes in the SFPD, some bartenders with good hearing, a woman who can supply you with wooden bullets or anything else you can’t get in the shops.”
“That sounds very helpful. Thank you.”
“Call us or stop by if you need help. The leg’s busted but my brain still works.”
“Most days,” added Ferencz, earning a third prod that was almost a shove. He laughed.
Charles chatted with them a little longer—mostly about which neighborhoods merited the closest attention—while Tenrael listened silently. He had a good head for geography, probably because he needed it when he flew, and although he didn’t know how to drive, he’d make a good navigator.
Ferencz was in the middle of a digression on local restaurants when Donne shifted a bit and let out a soft groan. Ferencz stopped talking, spent a moment apparently taking in the lines of pain and exhaustion around his partner’s eyes, and sighed. “Sorry, fellows. Tom needs his beauty sleep.”
But Charles had already stood, followed immediately by Tenrael. “We’re at the St. Francis if you need to get in touch with us.”
“Fancy digs,” Ferencz said. “Thomas and I stayed there once. Mayhem ensued.”
Clearly there was quite a story to be told, and Tenrael looked eager to hear it. Charles was curious too, but it would have to wait for another time. Very belatedly he noticed the candelabra perched on the windowsill of the bay window. “Um, happy Hanukkah. We’ll leave you to celebrate in peace.”
“Join us another night and I’ll make latkes. You can eat them with applesauce or jam on top—I bet you’d like that. We’ll have jelly donuts too. It’s a good holiday for someone with a sweet tooth.” He seemed sincere in the invitation—eager even. Perhaps desperate for a little company after being cooped up in the house for so long.
Charles hadn’t celebrated anything in years and had never been to a Hanukkah event. Neither, he guessed, had Tenrael. “Thank you.”
“We’ll call and make arrangements.”
They exchanged farewells with Donne, and then Ferencz walked them to the door. After they’d buttoned their coats, he handed Charles an envelope with the list of contacts Donne had promised. “Good luck. Stay safe. And thank you for giving Tom some time to heal.” He lowered his voice. “I’ve been talking to him about retiring, but he won’t listen. What else would he do with his time, he asks. I have some ideas.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Charles felt himself blush, a rare event indeed, and Tenrael laughed.
Away in a Manger
As Charles drove backto the hotel, Tenrael was quiet for several blocks. “They both have terrible dreams,” he finally announced.
Charles had no idea how Tenrael knew, but he believed him: Tenrael was the expert on nightmares. He replied, “Donne was a soldier in the last war. And Ferencz communicates with dead people. I think either of those things would be enough to make someone’s sleep uneasy.”
“Humans are remarkable. They are so mortal, so fragile, yet they can survive so much. And they can even find happiness afterward.”
Although Charles had never thought of it that way, he didn’t disagree. Ferencz and Donne certainly seemed happy despite everything that had happened and the obstacles life still threw in their way. Charles tasted that happiness, too, when he and Tenrael were alone in their cozy bungalow with the scent of the ocean wafting through open windows and the sounds of turning pages and gently rustling feathers filling the room. He couldtastethat joy, sweet as the jam Tenrael spread on Charles’s pancakes. Too bad it was so fleeting.
“I believe that Ferencz realized I am not human,” Tenrael said. “Nor are you. It does not distress him.”
“There’s a lot of that in the Bureau. You get used to it.”
“You told them we are lovers.”
“They’re queer too, so it wasn’t likely they’d throw a conniption.”
“But you admitted you care forme.”
Chagrin tasted bitter in Charles’s mouth. He pulled the car to the curb as soon as he was able, shifted into Park, and turned to face Tenrael. “I’m sorry. I’ve never said this, and I should have made it clear long ago. I am not ashamed to claim you as mine.”
Tenrael was wide-eyed. “Even when I look like what I truly am?”
“What you truly are is… someone beyond my wildest dreams.” Charles snorted at the small joke. “You know that big Hollywood sign? If I could, I’d replace it with one twice as big.Tenrael is mine, it would say. With flashing lights so everyone noticed it.”
