What the hell is he? I asked through our silent bond, thankful for Julian’s grip.
A wizard, Julian answered. Out loud he said, “Perhaps we can take a rain check?”
Merl clasped Julian’s shoulder. “Nonsense. No payment necessary if that’s what worries you. Just company for a lonely old man.”
Lonely old man? Julian might be old but certainly wasn’t lonely. Was he talking about himself? How old could he be if he were a wizard? Witches and wizards, as some antiquated misogynistic male witches liked to refer to themselves, aged similarly to humans, maybe an extra ten to twenty years on their life expectancy. He couldn’t be older than forty.
“I’m guessing Julian hasn’t had time to mention me,” Merl said as we took seats at a round table in the large quarters I hadn’t bothered to look at until now. He waved a hand, and three settings appeared in front of us, along with plates of steaming eggs, bacon, potatoes, and a full pot of both coffee and tea with the fixings.
Without preamble, Merl piled his plate full of food and began eating. Julian stayed still, and I glanced between them, uncertain what to make of this man.
“Go on,” Merl motioned with his mouth full. “At least have some coffee to keep me company. I have to replenish after losing blood.”
I winced as Julian reached for the ceramic pot of coffee and filled our cups, fixing mine for me in silence.
“So, what do you want to know?” Merl said, waving his fork as he chewed. Not exactly old school manners, I noted. “Ask me anything. I mean, we already did the intimate part.”
“Okay,” I said, tired of his cutting remarks. “How old are you?”
Merl smiled around his food and leaned back in his seat. “I like her,” he said to Julian. Then he wiped his mouth with his napkin and stared at me. “Six hundred and fifty-eight.”
I gaped. “Six hundred…”
“And fifty-eight,” he finished. “Elixir of Life. Next question?”
I sipped my coffee, trying to mimic Julian’s talent for acting non-plussed. “How do you know Julian?” I asked.
“We’ve been business partners for hundreds of years.”
“What sort of business?”
“Magic.” Merl gulped at a glass of orange juice that appeared at his side then set it back on the table.
“Is that why you keep saying no payment necessary?” I guessed.
“Yes. I learned early on to keep all business professional or risk losing a lucrative relationship.” Merl sipped on his tea as he stared unblinking at Julian.
“Well, this has been…enlightening,” I said with a forced smile. I set my napkin on the table beside my empty plate and rose.
“Despite my teasing, I truly enjoyed our sample interaction,” Merl said, rising to meet me.
"Sample interaction," I echoed, unsure what to do with that.
“He means you get the first sample free,” Julian said from my side.
“In fact,” Merle said, stepping close enough for me to scent his intoxicating blood. “In your case, I may consider the act payment enough in the future.”
I stiffened in Julian’s grasp and couldn’t get out of there fast enough, aware of my every step as Merl’s gaze bored into my back from his door.
The minute we made it downstairs to the lobby, I spun on Julian but found I had nothing to be angry at him for. He’d warned me to go the other direction, and I hadn’t listened. In fact, I probably owed him an apology.
“It’s okay,” Julian said when I couldn’t form the right words. “You were going to meet him sooner or later. In fact, there’s one more person I should probably warn you about if Merl’s here.”
“Who?” I asked, curiosity piqued.
“Back in the day, vampires used to align themselves with a witch. The more powerful the vampire, the more powerful the magic wielder. It’s since gone out of style—or more accurately, become a lesser discussed habit.” He guided me into the sitting room where I’d first seen my father face to face after his desertion. Today, it was physically empty of occupants, but the emotions the memory evoked seemed to leave little space for us. Even so, Julian sat on the sofa, and I joined him on the edge of the soft cushion, tilted toward him.
“So Merl was yours?” I clarified.