Page 49 of By the Pint

I stepped up to the mind version of Dima. He wore his usual long embroidered cape, but underneath he had on a pair of blue jeans and a plain, black t-shirt.

“Your clothes,” I said. “I’ve never seen you in jeans before.”

Real-Dima began laughing. “You really are very clever.”

“So, what? Your thoughts are in there? Under there?”

“Yep, pretty much.”

I didn’t understand. “How?” I poked Mind-Dima in the stomach with a finger. He felt real enough. Solid, unyielding, cool to the touch. Mind-Dima grinned back at me.

Under his clothes? I pushed his t-shirt up over his stomach, revealing his neat little row of abdominal muscles. “Remind me at some point to ask you how a six-hundred-year-old vampire got a six-pack, when muscles were not in fashion way back then.”

Real-Dima chuckled. “Okay, but I can tell you now, I have no idea. I don’t remember anything from when I was human. My guess is that I wasn’t landed gentry.”

“You were a peasant?” Vampires were almost never created among the poorer folk.

“Maybe. But you’re getting off track?”

“Am I, though? Or am I diverting your attention?”

I wasn’t sure what I was looking for on him. There was nothing about his physical appearance that seemed odd. I’d seen him naked, and nothing looked different. My fingers closed around the top button of his jeans. Mind-Dima gave me a sloppy smile.

“You can look down there, by all means, but you won’t find it in my pants,” Real-Dima said, as I tugged on his waistband and peered into the darkened void.

“Shame.” I let go. I was about to give up when I spotted a tiny bump against his sternum. I pushed his t-shirt up again, this time higher over his pectorals. So distracted by his body, it took me a second or two to spot the intricate heart-shaped silver locket hanging by a delicate silver chain in the dead centre of his chest. It was the same as the one he wore in real life, but bigger. The blood-red stone in the centre was brighter. Glowing almost.

“In here?” I said, lifting the locket and nestling it in my palm. It was heavy. Heavier than an object that size had any right to be. And warm. And seemed to vibrate like a trapped mouse. I dug my fingernail into the catch on the side, but the locket stayed closed.

“Nope, you won’t get in there yet,” Real-Dima said. “Do you remember how I said you needed more than a lock? To try a riddle or something?”

“So, I have to answer a riddle to open it? What is it?”

“It’s not really a riddle. You need to … pass a sort of test. You need to prove you’re … worthy.”

I dropped the pendant, and Dima’s mind slipped away from me. I was back on the volcano perch, the cool January evening air washed over me.

“I prove to you that I can close off my mind, and that locket will open for me. Is that what you’re saying?”

“Something like that.”

I watched Dima. His lips were curled into a gentle smile. I must have seen over a hundred of Dima’s smiles on the few occasions I’d spent with him, but I was sure this one was my favourite. Soft, unassuming … caring.

What mysteries would I uncover inside that locket? Business secrets? Truths he’d figured I wasn’t ready to know? About Killian? Or being a vampire in general? Maybe sordid sexual fantasies?

“All of those things,” he said. “Except you might be disappointed with that last one.”

“Vanilla vamp?”

He said nothing, but his smile morphed into something more teasing. Okay, I changed my mind. That was my favourite smile.

“Anyway,” Dima said, shaking his head a little as though ridding water from his ears. “You need to make your mind’s room busier. Make it more difficult for intruders to find your locker.”

I thought of the Barracuda’s locker room. One solid wall of metal lockers, benches lined up near them, the big gold and blue Barracuda’s logo painted onto the centre of the floor.

“Good start, but make more lockers. Hundreds more.”

I extended the wall. So that the rows of lockers faded into the horizon on either side like the boundaries of an endless labyrinth.

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