0.6-The Asylum Interviews: Trixie (6 page)

“Ha!” he exclaimed, briefly waving his pen in the air before filling in five empty squares on his crossword puzzle. Smiling to himself, he set aside his folded newspaper and pen before looking up at me. “It’s good of you to visit me, Gage,” he said as he blindly reached for the cigarette burning away in the overflowing plastic ashtray next to his radio. He took one last pull from it before crushing it out, dislodging a few old butts so that they tumbled out onto the table.

I shrugged, my hands still in my pockets, not offering to shake hands. Of course, I didn’t think that Chang liked to shake hands. People in the know didn’t. “Sorry it’s been so long. It’s been quiet.”

“Until now,” Chang said with a soft chuckle.

A snort escaped me. That was an understatement. When I had a problem, it was never a small thing. Chang wasn’t my usual black market vendor. I only went to him for the extremely rare (and usually expensive) item and this was the first time I had visited him in regards to a personal problem.

Grabbing his cane, Chang pushed slowly to his feet. He patted one of the dogs on the head before they both darted off in the direction we had come while Chang motioned for me to follow him down another aisle. We walked silently. Every once in a while he would stop and fiddle with one item or another before putting it back on the shelf.

“You need new cloak?” Chang asked, picking up the corner of some folded black fabric. As it caught the light, a rainbow of colors rippled across the surface. I cocked my head to the side and reached for it. My fingers halted inches from the material, feeling the crackling energy rise from it.

“Merlin-grade protective magic,” I murmured in awe. I didn’t actually believe there had been an old warlock by the name of Merlin, but the magic world still used his name in relation to the highest grade of magic. It was extremely rare, and when it came to Chang, extremely expensive.

“Ha! Merlin’s cloak,” Chang said, putting the cloak back down.

I smiled and shook my head, taking a step away from the cloak. It was tempting, but I was trying to extricate myself from that part of the world, not dig back in. Chang shrugged and continued to walk, his cane rhythmically tapping on the concrete floor as we progressed. He stopped in front of a large glass case that held several musical instruments. I stopped and peered at them. Some were a little worn looking, but I knew better than to take something at its appearance.

“You got a rat problem? That flute will fix it right up,” Chang offered. “Or maybe you need to win over a pretty lady. That will do the trick. No problem.” I looked to where the little man was pointing, my eyes falling on a well-worn lyre.

“That belong to Orpheus?” I asked, arching one brow at him.

Chang puffed up a little bit, as if offended by the question. “Of course.”

“You’re a dangerous man, Chang.”

“Not my fault this world is filled with idiots,” he grumbled as we continued down the aisle. “I screen the people I deal with. I don’t show my collection to just anyone!”

“I know, Chang, and I am honored that you trust me enough to barter with me.”

Chang harrumphed once and stomped on down the aisle, the end of his cane seeming to hit the ground a little harder now.

“You got a goose that lays golden eggs?” I asked, trying to distract him.

The old man paused and shook his head as he turned to face me. “No, not anymore.”

“Really?”

Chang patted his flat stomach and smiled broadly up at me. “She was delicious.”

My mouth fell open and I stood aghast for a second. “You ate it!” How could he eat something that was worth a fortune?

“It was noisy and messy. Hissed at my babies.” He then leaned close and whispered, “Besides, it’s not as rare as you think.”

I threw my head back and laughed. Leave it to Chang! The man had the pleasure of dining on something that most of the world would never see while confident that he could always get his hands on another.

“Now, if you find a goose that can lay those chocolate eggs with the white and yellow cream inside, I will barter with you. Love those eggs,” he said, rubbing his stomach again.

“I’ll keep an eye out,” I murmured. Chang always had a knack for lightening my mood no matter how bad of a day I was having.

“So, what do you need?”

A sigh slipped from me as the weight of my problem settled back on my shoulders. Chang had provided a nice diversion but it was time to return to the real world. “I’ve got a problem. I’m trying to help a friend who’s in trouble.”

“Girlfriend?” Chang inquired with a sly smile.

“Girl, yes. But just a friend.”

“Do you want her to be your girlfriend?”

“Chang.”

The old man waved his hands at me as he shuffled over to a large chair that looked like it belonged in an ancient throne room. “Okay. Okay. Just friend.” He settled his small frame into the enormous chair, slouching in relief. “What kind of trouble is your friend in?”

“Undead trouble.”

“Zombies?”

“Vampires,” I corrected.

Chang made a noise in the back of his throat, scoffing at me. “You don’t need me. Hardware store. Wooden stakes on sale five ninety-nine for a dozen.”

“The only way I can stake a vampire and live is to attack while he’s sleeping. Last I checked, the courts still ruled that as first-degree murder. Trying not to go to jail on this one.”

“Gasoline and match?”

I crossed my arms over my chest and shifted my weight to my left foot. “Try for subtle, Chang.”

He scratched his chin as he sat thinking. “Guillotine? I have one made in Paris. Used only a few times.”

“How is that subtle?” I demanded, throwing my hands up.

“You say, Chang, I have vampire problem. To get rid of vampire problem, you stake heart and cut off head. That’s it. You want something else? Then you tell me what you want.”

I sighed. I hated to say it aloud. It was dirty and underhanded. Sadly, I felt more comfortable discussing Chang’s suggestions because at least they represented a forthright attack on Chester. This was sneaky and dangerous.

“I’m hoping to get this vampire arrested, which means I need him to attack me. But I want something I can use to protect myself.”

“Religious relics?” Chang asked, looking skeptical.

I shook my head, shoving my hands back into my pockets. Religious relics were always sketchy at best and I had heard of few that actually worked like they were supposed to, particularly on the undead. “I am pretty sure I can get him to attack me, but I’m afraid that I might not be able to stop him before he takes too much blood. I thought there might be something . . .”

I trailed off, but Chang was following my train of thought. He shot out of his chair, his eyes wide with excitement. “Poison? You want poison?”

“Yeah,” I murmured, feeling like a real asshole.

Chang laughed, wagging one finger at me. “Oh, Gage, you’re a sneaky bastard! I always liked you.” He grabbed my arm just above my elbow with his bony fingers and led me deeper into his maze of shelves. The little old man was surprisingly strong and excitement seemed to make him forget that he needed his cane to help him walk, because he was now swinging it around as he giggled to himself.

“So you got something that might help?” I asked.

“I got something, but you must be careful. Only get one chance.”

Chang released my arm and started to use his cane again after we rounded a corner and came upon small area that looked like a kitchen. There was a sink and faucet against one wall. Along the opposite wall were a tiny stove and a rounded yellow refrigerator that looked like it had limped out of the 1950s and curled up here to die. I followed Chang to the refrigerator and gazed over his thin shoulder when he pulled open the door. It was a strange hodgepodge of items. Inside were containers of bologna, cans of foreign sodas, a plastic bowl filled with what looked to be raw meat soaking in its own blood. I was grateful that I didn’t find any body parts, but then I never saw what was in the freezer.

The old man stooped down and pulled open a drawer in the bottom of the fridge. Inside were several types of fruit, separated into clear plastic bags. On top was a large bag of big red apples.

I couldn’t stop the groan that rose from my chest as I walked away from the fridge. “Oh, come on, Chang! Please don’t tell me you’re going to hand me a poison apple and expect me to shove that down the vamp’s throat.”

Chang paused and glared at me over his shoulder. He turned back toward the open drawer and shook his head. I could hear him muttering something in another language. I didn’t understand it, but it certainly didn’t sound complimentary. He pulled something out of the bottom drawer, slammed it shut, and then closed the fridge before turning back to me.

“You read too many silly books,” he muttered as he approached me. “Hold out your hand.” I did as he asked and he slapped what looked to be a rose-tinted orange in my palm. As I lifted it to get a closer look, Chang hit me on the chest. “Don’t eat it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I muttered, watching him shuffle to the other side of the kitchen area. He pulled open a small cabinet with a glass front. He was talking to himself again as he moved small bottles and boxes around, searching for something. When he came back to me, he was carrying a tiny brown bottle that reminded me of the vanilla extract my mother kept in the cupboard for sugar cookies.

Chang motioned for me to follow him out of the kitchen area and down another aisle. As we turned the corner, I came to a sharp halt as I saw the same folding chair and table he had been sitting at when I first met him. I looked around, verifying that I was indeed in the same spot, even though I could have sworn that I was on the other side of the enormous warehouse. I shrugged my shoulders and joined Chang at the table. I already knew that there was more to this place than met the eye. It was better if I didn’t ask any questions.

Setting his cane aside, Chang sighed as he sat down and moved his feet as if he was easing some pain in his ankles. He set down the bottle and motioned for me to give him the fruit.

“This is a sanguinello,” he said, holding up the fruit.

“I think I’ve heard of that,” I murmured, kneeling next to the table.

Chang nodded, lowering his voice closer to a whisper. “Common in Europe. Also called a blood orange, dark red inside. There are many kinds of blood orange, but only a sanguinello grown near special mountain can do what you want.”

“But it’s still just an orange, which means that that’s the poison,” I said, pointing to the little brown bottle.

Chang smiled at me. He put down the sanguinello and picked up the brown bottle. He carefully took off the cap and held it out to me. “Smell.”

I leaned in and caught a quick whiff. That was enough. I lurched away, crawling several feet from Chang, coughing and gagging. My stomach felt like it wanted to flip inside out before jumping up my throat. Behind me I could hear Chang cackling with amusement. The man was fucking insane.

“What the hell!” I wiped the tears from my eyes as I twisted around to look at him. Chang had recapped the bottle and set it on the table again.

“Extract from plant. Related to foxglove family, but not poison.”

“Like hell it’s not,” I snapped, returning to the table.

Chang smiled a sly grin that gave me chills as he once again waved for me to kneel beside him. “Not poisonous. You drink this and you get sick. Your stomach will empty, but it won’t kill you. Drink this and it do nothing to vampire that drink you.” Chang picked up the blood orange and held it in front of my face. “You eat this. It’s very good. You eat this and it do nothing to vampire that drink you. Now,” Chang paused, holding up one spindly finger. He put the orange on the table next to the bottle. “You cut sanguinello in half and pour extract on both halves. Let sit for . . . at least two hours. Eat all.”

“Rind, too?”

“Rind? No, not rind. Just fruit. Who eats the rind?” Chang gave me a little smack on the back of the head while giving me a look of disgust. I didn’t regret the question, stupid or not. You always asked questions with magic or you didn’t live to regret it later.

“Will it make me sick?”

“No, eat all. It’s very good. And for twenty-four hours after, vampire drink from you, he die of poison.”

“It makes my blood poisonous to vampires?” I stared at the blood orange and the brown vial. “Interesting.”

“Yes, but there’s a catch.” I jerked my attention back to Chang instantly. There was always a catch with something good, particularly with a good potion. “You can only do once in whole lifetime. Once you eat, it never fully leaves your systems. You eat this again, you die.”

“What if I eat the combo, and then a year later eat just the sanguinello?”

“Fine.”

“What if I eat the combo, and then a day later drink what’s in the bottle?”

“You sick but not poisoned.”

“What if—” I started but Chang cut me off with a smile and a wave of his hand.

“Eat combo once, that’s it. You can eat or drink separately after that every day for as long as you live. You may be sick, but not poisoned. Just can’t eat combo twice. Ever.”

“And it only last twenty-four hours?”

“Yes. Minute after that, your blood fine for vampires.”

“What if I only wanted to make the vampire very weak and sick, but not dead? Well, not permanently dead.”

Chang frowned for a moment, staring at the orange and the brown bottle. “It’s risky, but if you eat only half the sanguinello, it should work. But I don’t know how long it would last.” He shrugged, flashing me a concerned look. “Blood might be poisonous for only a few hours. Very dangerous. Better to just eat whole and kill vampire.”

“And how would I explain that to the cops?”

Chang gave a little giggle. “He ate something that didn’t agree with him.”

I nodded as I picked up the blood orange and looked at it. Other than the color being more pinkish than orange, it felt and smelt like a normal orange I might pick up at the local grocery. I looked down at the bottle, but didn’t pick it up. “So, what’s actually in the bottle?”

Chang shook his head. “That’s the price I ask for this trade. I won’t tell you what is in there.”