Morpheus had expected, even shamefully hoped, that Blade's interest in Joy had been predatory. He didn't yet know under what circumstances Julien would be turned into a Vampyre or how Joy ended up alone with a bottle of blood in her fridge, but he wanted to imagine that Julien wouldn't be the bad guy.
And he didn't want to find he was bad, either.
Morpheus didn't want to be any more responsible for Joy being hurt than he already was.
So he'd been extra vigilant, patrolling the areas about Thompkin's Square Park and Alphabet City while Joy slept. He hadn't seen a sign of Blade or anyone else he recognized as a Vampyre.
Yet, Joy had changed her habits.
She'd taken the L to Williamsburg and gone thrift shopping without contacting her bandmates.
She hadn't bought one pair of shoes or a velvet dress but had picked up multiple vintage motorcycle jackets.
On her way home from work, she'd altered her route to visit several art supply stores.
She'd declined early morning breakfast offers to walk home alone after gigs or nights clubbing.
"She's painting jackets," River decided, though they hadn't peered close enough to see what Joy did inside her own studio.
"I didn't know she could paint."
"Then who painted her jacket?"
That was the question. They'd been following Joy for months and the jacket had appeared as the season grew colder. It had one of those Vertigo characters painted on the back. "Maybe Opium knows, but Joy likely remembers painting it." Then, remembering River hadn't been with him, Morpheus added, "She was wearing it over her costume when Blade met her."
If Joy was painting a jacket for someone, she was taking her time.
It had been nearly two weeks and Morpheus had already passed up one opportunity to go to the Valois Gallery with Pam and implied he had extra volunteer shifts at St. Clare's to explain his even longer hours. He was glad when Joy agreed to spend the weekend in Williamsburg.
He was in New York specifically to watch her, yet it still felt fair he had breaks from the work.
He wondered sometimes if the task were more retribution for scrying on Julien than his involvement in giving Joy the blood. The balance of it probably appealed to the family.
Pam was out when Morpheus reached their flat, so he lay down on the small sofa near the window to rest.
Loren woke him later, with a whisper at his ear, and Morpheus heard the rattling of lock and keys as Pam let himself in.
Morpheus quickly assumed his Tyron form—rocker style clothes he wore when busking, not the volunteer uniform.
Pam entered, wearing one of his vintage cocktail dresses and carrying a guitar case and plastic take-out bag smelling of nut oil and spice. He kicked the door shut behind him. "I didn't know you'd be here."
"I got a slice earlier."
Pam nodded and set his food on the chest that served as coffee table. The guitar case went under the bed with the rest of the gear. He flopped to the sofa. "You don't smoke in here, do you?"
Morpheus sensed the warmth against his left arm was Hepburn. "No. Does it smell like incense?"
"Oh." Pam nodded. "It's not bad. I only noticed as I came in."
"I can crack a window."
Pam waved a hand. "Not complaining, but it does get funky in here now and then."
Morpheus laughed.
"You want to go out?"
"Now?"
Pam gave him a lopsided smile. "I nearly went to the movies, but I didn't feel like going alone."
"What do you wanna see? Is Aladdin out, yet?"
"The Disney movie?" Pam shook his head. "Closer to Thanksgiving. Dracula's out."
"He's a vampire."
Pam laughed. "Your upbringing, man."
"It was mostly cartoons and costume epics."
Pam beamed a smile. "You might like it."
"I might."
⁂
They'd walked over to a theater on 3rd Avenue and found lines at the box office and outside their auditorium. As they joined the end of the queue, Yara peered out from several places ahead and waved. Morpheus recognized her face and shape though she was dressed differently than when he'd seen her in costume. Her own hair was cropped close and dyed green and she wore a sienna colored leather blazer over a white tee, flared jeans, and platform boots.
"Hey, you," Pam said to her, stepping one foot out of the line. "You remember my friend Tyron?"
Yara looked up and smiled. "I almost didn't recognize you."
"My jewelry's silver today."
Pam laughed.
Yara's brow furrowed.
"It's just an in-joke," Pam said softly, "We didn't see you at the club that night."
"I ended up at my girlfriend's dorm."
A woman in the queue between them shifted aside.
Yara made a wide smile. "And Jules wouldn't have gone on his own."
"That's cool. We did happen to see his sister."
"Blade." There was a slight breathiness as if perhaps Yara had once had a crush on her friend's older sister, but her tight smile suggested Julien was even less likely to appear in public with Blade than alone.
"I hadn't realized they were related." Pam glanced to Morpheus. "But I guess some of his schoolmates talk."
Morpheus nodded.
"That's how we happened to hook up again." Yara gestured back toward the lobby. "My girlfriend's at Parsons."
Morpheus looked past Pam. He wasn't sure if Yara had pointed towards her girlfriend or Julien, until he saw him.
Julien walked from the direction of the concession stand carrying several paper cups.
"Another chance meeting?" River whispered from the folds of the skull-print scarf Morpheus had formed.
"It's not on purpose this time," Morpheus whispered.
Pam turned his head.
"Funny. Running into the same people. Again."
Before Julien reached them, he stopped and turned around. It looked like maybe he had forgotten something from concessions, until Morpheus noticed Athen in the lobby.
"I thought Lulu wasn't coming," Yara said under her breath.
The queue began to move.
"Yara." Pam lifted his chin.
Yara barely glanced toward Pam or the queue as she waved an arm. "Jules!"
Julien turned his head to Yara, then back to Athen, and finally turned around and waved dismissively at Yara.
The couple that had been between them moved past Yara to enter the theater.
"If we go now, we can save them seats," Pam suggested.
Yara nodded then strode along the velvet ropes.
Inside the dim theater, Yara beckoned them after her, toward a grouping of yet vacant seats.
It was a couple minutes later that Julien came into the theater, Athen walking just behind him. Yara stood from her seat the other side of Pam. There was a nod from Julien and Yara then pointed to an empty pair of seats in the row in front of theirs.
"You don't want to sit together?" Julien asked as he reached his seat.
"I wasn't sure if you both were coming. It seems sold out. I didn't—"
"I apologize. Yara. I surprised Julien. If you like, sit here with him and I'll find another seat."
Yara just stood there a moment. Morpheus was putting effort into looking like he wasn't paying attention, but it did occur to him she might be mesmerized; Athen did have a rather soothing voice. Then Yara shook her head. "I ran into Pam, and you're...." she trailed off and made some and so on motion with her hand. "I don't want to be third wheel."
Watching the exchange from the corners of his eyes, Morpheus saw Pam glance toward him.
"Tricycles are more stable—"
Julien pushed the soda and popcorn at Yara then rounded on Athen. "Sit down, Lu!"
And Athen did. Immediately.
⁂
The movie was beautiful. A modern film, set in a time when motion picture was in its infancy, preferring camera tricks to computer effects, referencing the modernity of a bygone age. Morpheus had never known how much he wanted to appear in a long-tailed dove gray suit. Just how historical was all that décolletage and the small-waisted, Victorian corsetry? Dracula's armor with the visage of a flayed bat. Lucy's slinky snake dress and monstrous wedding gown were positively reptilian. Jonathan's hair, gray from fright, was wolvish and kinda hot. The meaner things in life.
But Mina's wardrobe changed like the seasons from vernal green to bonfire red to the black velvet of winter night. She, corrupted and redeemed, could live again.
It was beautiful and meaningful and yet there was something confusing about it all.
Had Dracula and Mina been in love?
Could an engaged and apparently prim Victorian school mistress — with interest in Orientalist fiction —be seduced by a foreign prince simply because he pursued her on the street and did not know how to take No for an answer?
He'd murdered Lucy!
Could Mina want to be so close to Dracula as to willingly infect her blood?
Could a Human and Vampire do that?
Could Morpheus?
He sighed. "Lord help me, I just want to make out with a vampire right now."
Pam, beside him, chuckled. "It really was so much eye candy."
The credits played accompanied by some pretty love song, and in the row before them, Julien sat leaning forward as if at the edge of his seat with Athen's hand on his back.
"He OK?" Yara asked.
Julien straightened then twisted around. "Fine. Just ate some popcorn too fast."
"You still...?" Yara didn't finish the question.
"I'm fine," Julien repeated. "You liked the movie." It didn't seem a question.
"You know I love vampires, but..."
"It wasn't the costumes."
"No."
"Costume design was beyond fierce. Like savage. Or, what dudes at the molly house would say."
"Batty-fang?" Julien quizzed at Athen; Morpheus hadn't heard the term either. "Thoroughly thrashed. Beat."
"Oh, they were fuckin' beat. With a fang."
Yara laughed. "Jules."
"I'm so gonna use that."
Julien glanced briefly at Pam. "Whatever. Put it in a song."
The silence between them was almost awkward and the theater was quickly emptying though credits still rolled.
"Was it the romance plot, Yara?" Morpheus asked.
"Thank you! Yes. He knew you were engaged. He raped and murdered your best friend! But I guess choosing him is kinda better than being some enthralled minion of darkness that doesn't make any choices."
"I don't think Mina knew he was the rape-wolf," Pam said, but then seeing Yara's disgust added, "but we know. It's...well it's a Horror movie."
"Not," said Morpheus.
"Except it's not," Julien agreed, though he barely looked at Tyron. "We're supposed to believe absinthe makes you remember past lives, and, even if Mina chooses Jonathan, her soul that was Elisabeta wants to be with Vlad. It's a tragic Romance."
"It's tragic all right."
"Shut up. You liked it despite the complaints. At least you got to see Mina and Lucy dancing around in the rain."
"Please, come at me." Yara wiggled her fingers at Julien.
"Trace the tracks of my fucking tears!" His tone was so weirdly gleeful Morpheus didn't know if Julien were serious. "The tears, Yara! The tears!" Maybe it was self-deprecating humor?
"Bryan Ferry?" Morpheus whispered.
Pam tsked at him. "Smokey Robinson."
Yara jumped up from her seat, causing Pam to flinch towards Morpheus. Yara then grasped Julien's shoulders. "But don't you want to come away on a murder spree, live on the lam, and die gloriously together?!"
Pam leaned in further to whisper, "We're gonna get kicked out of here."
Morpheus stood and dusted bits of popcorn from his clothes.
In the next row, Julien stood and took Yara's hands in his. "Sign me up, Sister. Praise Jesus!"
"We're gonna go this way," Morpheus said as Pam rose to leave with him.
Julien and Yara lowered their hands, then lifted them again, touched elbows, and finally stepped apart into their respective rows.
Athen watched them with narrowed eyes. "Jay, are you coming to the loft tonight?"
Pam took Morpheus by the hand and kept him from leaving immediately.
"I gotta walk Yara where she's going."
"Well, I drove."
"Can't we give Yara a ride?"
"No," Yara said. She paused just a moment. "I mean, I can go crash at the Parson's dorms."
"You can walk with us," Pam offered.
Morpheus thought the dorms might be out of their way, but he nodded.
As they walked out of the theater, Julien complained quietly behind them that he missed Athen staying at his place.
"Your sister came back and made her feelings clear."
"You're my husband, Lu. Whatever she says, we're married."
⁂
Morpheus felt like he'd walked Yara to the dorms in his sleep. It was all vague and less memorable than Julien's overheard words. He supposed, when it came down to souls, all that was required for marriage was for those involved to declare it so. Julien could be married, no matter what 20th Century New York laws said.
For divorce, it only required the one party's declaration, as Psyche was said to have done.
Of course, Angels existing across time, effect of these declarations on reality was tenuous at best. At any point in space-time the single, married, or divorced versions of Psyche and Eros may exist, so effectively, all exist, unless it's observed one of them indicate otherwise. Sometimes, they even co-exist with a mortal maiden Psyche or young married Psyche expecting her child.
How did it work with Vampyres, always sealed to the same flesh?
Would fictional Mina be married to both Jonathan and Vlad?
No, she lived in the Empty World with linear perception of time. To her, she was only really the wife of one. She had a choice each lifetime.
But if Julien believed his marriage valid against laws of his world, then it must be a marriage of his soul that could only be ended if he declared it so.
How did that seem to Athen? Psyche reportedly his lover whether she were at any given moment married to Eros or not, Julien his husband with vows unrecognized by Human society, and Julien yet likely to receive his blood?
The blood created some form of bond. Morpheus was sure of it. It wasn't just the fictional stuff of movies. Julien had sensed Vampyre presences so much more quickly than Morpheus could. And if that bond were physical and Vampyre souls were even more in their bodies than other souls, then it was a bond that didn't go away, even if the soul willed it.
Morpheus was so mired in thought he barely noticed Pam sitting beside him on their bed in the shoebox, until he spoke.
"Ty, you wanna just make out or something?"
Morpheus was still, eyes rolling to the side towards Pam. "You want to kiss me?"
Pam made a sound, as if clearing his throat. "No pressure or strings. Just, if you want to."
Morpheus took a breath, conscious of how shaky it was. "I would like to, but I don't think I can."
Pam nodded. He didn't look upset or surprised. He just nodded like it was expected.
Morpheus fidgeted with his snake-print scarf. "I'm really not with anyone, but I said something — not a vow or an oath — and if I kiss you, it will make me a liar."
"You don't have to explain."
But...."
But Pam had offered and now so many memories surfaced: every time Pam touched Morpheus, or leaned in close, or suggested they leave a crowded place, or do something together. Friends did those things. But, not only friends.
Why couldn't he just say yes and kiss Pam?
Because a future version of Julien had told Morpheus that he was going to claim no one else had ever done it?
If he hadn't made that claim, or Julien hadn't told him about it, then now, in this time, Morpheus would have totally made out with Pam here on this bed. He didn't know if he would love him or do much more than that, but Morpheus would have accepted and considered it a good thing they could show each other how worthy of affection they were.
"Ty, you don't have to answer or explain, but...." Pam paused a moment, sighed and leaned back to rest his weight in his arms. "If you need to, I can still listen."
"I am questioning my own sanity in this moment."
"I'm sorry, Man. I didn't want to bring up bad feelings."
Morpheus shook his head then glanced at Pam. "It wasn't you. I liked how you asked me so directly and casual. I wish I could do that."
But he would. That's what Julien had said. Morpheus apparently walked up to him and asked. Just like that. Would he have done that if he hadn't met Pam in this time?
"I feel I'm making an utterly stupid decision."
"But you still have to make it, because that's what's in your heart, even if your mind doesn't agree."
"Yeah." Morpheus gazed at Pam. That was it exactly.
"You can't — like Lucy says — go to him and love him?"
There was no point in denying there was someone in his heart, because there obviously was. "It doesn't seem possible right now."
"Prison?" Pam asked. "Or married?"
Morpheus nodded. "Something like one of those."
⁂
Morpheus hadn't intended to treat Pam any differently, but the knowledge had affected his decisions. It seemed important to Humans and New Yorkers to know one had a place to go on Thanksgiving. With the student population the question was often, "Are you going home?" And when home wasn't an option there was often the offer, "you are welcome to join us...." Because it wasn't acceptable to not have a group, even if that group's plan was to reject tradition and go gamble with tourists in Atlantic City.
Morpheus hadn't invited Pam to the flat in Williamsburg, even though Mother had extended the invitation. Bringing a guest to a family Thanksgiving dinner seemed to come with implications. Joy had already proven herself too perceptive on that front and Morpheus knew Opium was his mother, even if Pam had no idea Tyron was related to the lead singer of Robert's Pill.
Instead, he'd gone along when Pam suggested they volunteer at a soup kitchen, where people without another place to go on Thanksgiving could be alone together.
It had been a late night, playing hymns, standards and carols by request, which River had to talk him through when the songs were unfamiliar.
So, Morpheus was startled to be woken by a knock at their door. He shifted quickly to his Tyron form and saw Pam silently watching him.
But there wasn't time to wonder about that. Morpheus could sense a more-than-Human presence beyond the door. The Djinn were also present in their most diffuse form, but they couldn't speak or show Morpheus who was there without revealing themselves.
"I'll see who it is," Morpheus said.
Pam got out of bed at the same time. He stalked to the door and lifted the wooden baseball bat that leaned against the jamb.
Morpheus questioned the need with a glance and called out. "Who is it?"
The voice was timid and familiar. "Splendor."
"I know xem." Morpheus unlatched the door.
Pam cocked his head, but soon stepped back as the door opened.
"I'm sorry." Splendor stood in the narrow hall above the stairwell in a silver-blue suit that might have been a vintage or fetish chauffeur uniform. Splendor reached towards Morpheus — Tyron — with gloved hands then, as if in second thought, folded xir arms. "I'm so sorry, but I thought you should know."
"Know what?" Morpheus stepped aside. "Do you need to come in?"
Splendor peered around the edge of the door.
"My friend Pam is here."
Pam stood behind the door of the wardrobe pulling on a satin robe.
"Splendor's a sort of distant relative."
Covered, Pam stepped away from the wardrobe. "Faerie?"
Splendor answered, "Their court doesn't recognize our house."
Pam smiled.
Morpheus closed the door behind Splendor. "Why have you come? Are you OK? Did you have somewhere to go for Thanksgiving?"
"I've unwillingly become a bearer of bad tidings and I am not truly OK about it, but it could have to do with the holiday. I don't know why she did it!"
Morpheus shook his head. "Who?"
"My mother. Do you think she could have been angered by the holiday? We couldn't be with Athen this year because Julien — I'm sorry. I had no idea! I don't know what either of them were thinking."
"Who is Athen?" Pam whispered. "Or, should I leave you?"
Morpheus reached for his hand. "No. I mean, you may as well stay, if you want." He sighed. "Athen is Lulu — Louis."
"There's something off about that guy. Handsome, but he has a vibe like he knows where bodies are buried."
"He's nice to me," Splendor said softly, "but that's not why I'm here."
"You can tell me. OK?"
Splendor looked up at Morpheus, brow furrowed. "Julien's dead."
"No."
It wasn't possible. Morpheus knew it couldn't be, the way he'd known Steven must survive being shot.
"How?" Pam asked.
Morpheus felt River pinch his ankle then climb up his exostructure.
"He did it. Himself. With a knife."
Morpheus stepped back and felt for the edge of the bed.
Pam hissed through his teeth. "Shit. I'm sorry."
"He's not dead."
"I saw it and...it was bad. He was dead."
"But didn't someone call an ambulance?" Pam asked. "People can have that near-death and be resuscitated."
"I didn't think I was supposed to interfere," Splendor whispered. "I couldn't do anything. I came right here."
Morpheus took a slow breath and looked up. "Splendor." He tried looking into Splendor's mind, just deep enough to see if there was some acceptance of contact or offered information. There wasn't anything he could read, not even a desired form. Maybe didn't have the same sense of time as Morpheus. "The thing that you know about me, from the past, would have been his future."
"I don't know what you mean."
"There's another possibility besides his being dead or revived in a hospital."
"Please don't say some kind of movie Vudú."
Morpheus glanced up at Pam from the bed, "Not exactly."
"Would they do that? Can they do that? After someone's dead?"
Morpheus nodded. "Yeah. If he was only near-dead. If his body was dead but he hadn't passed on yet. He can still be turned."
Pam sat down on the bed beside Morpheus. "You aren't kidding about this?"
Morpheus shook his head.
"The choice he never had," River whispered from his shoulder perch.
It seemed an odd phrase, but Morpheus understood. Joy wasn't the only one who'd received the blood without being able to give consent.
---
video media top: Annie Lennox "Love Song for a Vampire"
mid-chapter image media: The Kiss by Gustav Klimt, 1907-1908. Painting is in the public domain.