Sanguine

When Rika agreed to be Commander Anselm’s personal assistant, in addition to the head of electronic security and communications at the World Alliance for Supernatural Protection–or WASP, as it’s more commonly known–she had no way of knowing that babysitting an orphaned assassin-in-training would become part of her job duties. However, that is exactly what has been eating up more and more of Rika’s time for the past year and a half, or however long it’s been since the Commander came back from a raid with a stony-eyed waif called Sasha in tow. At first, Rika was indignant about this job responsibility; wasn’t developing and maintaining WASP’s entire cybersecurity system enough work? But she quickly developed a soft spot for Sasha, in spite of herself. Besides, the Commander is right; vampires make the best babysitters since they don’t need sleep.

Rest, though, is still necessary even for Rika. She’s been known to work on coding projects for days at a time, but today has been particularly challenging. She snuck out of Commander Anselm’s suite an hour ago, leaving Sasha fast asleep in her room and the Commander in a conference call in his office. From there, she made her way to her favorite place in WASP HQ: Sanguine, a vampire-exclusive hangout. A human might call the place a bar, and it does have that kind of atmosphere: inexplicably sticky wood floors, low lighting, cozy booths and wobbly tables, pool and foosball, and a long counter manned by a server of liquid refreshments. However, Sanguine serves only blood beverages–mostly human blood, but also some animal varieties for the more fastidious vampires.

Rika has never considered herself persnickety about what she drinks to keep herself “alive,” or undead, as might be more apt. She slumps into a seat at the bar and rests her head on the counter, wishing that her ability to sleep hadn’t left her when she was turned 42 years ago.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asks as he towels a glass. He could be Rika’s fraternal twin, with his bottomless black eyes, jet-black hair, and snowy complexion. As far as Rika knows, though, they’re not even remotely related.

“Whatever the house special is,” Rika answers, barely lifting her head to answer him. “I don’t suppose you can put anything…uplifting in it?”

“Still against regulations, I’m afraid. One glass of AB negative, coming right up.”

“Of course,” Rika mutters. Because Sanguine is part of HQ and was established by Councilor Anisha as part of a series of operative wellness initiatives a few years ago, there are rules about how much fun can be had. Never mind that it’s very difficult for a vampire to actually be intoxicated by anything, or that WASP operatives have some of the hardest jobs in the world; they can’t be having too much fun on WASP property, especially with the organization footing the bill.

“Here you are,” Derek smiles, passing Rika a wine glass of deep red liquid. His fangs glint in the light of the sconces behind his bar. “Try to enjoy, yeah? There’s more where that came from.”

Rika forces herself to return his smile before downing half her glass in one go, barely noticing the smooth, pleasant flavor of the blood. Derek’s eyes widen and he pulls a pitcher out of a cooler under the counter.

“I’ll just…top you off now then,” he mutters before pouring more blood into Rika’s glass.

“Thanks.”

“Hey, Derek. Long time no see,” a woman calls from behind Rika, in the direction of Sanguine’s main entrance. Rika turns around to see her friend Iona sauntering across the room. Based on her form-fitting black velvet dress, elegant scarlet updo, and full face of makeup, Rika guesses that Iona has just gotten back from some sort of seduction job.

“Looking good, Iona. What’ll it be today?”

“A positive for me. I’ve earned it.” She drops into the seat beside Rika at the bar. “Hey there, sunshine. What’s the matter?”

“Cut the crap, Iona,” Rika grumbles, but her lips turn up in amusement. Iona knows as well as anyone that Rika’s personality is far from sunny even on her best days.

“Here’s your A positive,” Derek interrupts, handing Iona her own wine glass.

“Cheers,” she grins, raising her glass to him before taking a sip. “Now, what’s happened to you, Rika? Another rough day with Commander Anselm?”

Rika shifts in her seat, then turns to look at her friend. She and Iona have worked together on a few different projects with WASP, before Rika was promoted to Special Operations and Iona went into blood supply management. They’ve always understood each other and kept each other’s secrets. If anyone is likely to be sympathetic to Rika’s current plight, it’s Iona.

“I’ll say,” Rika admits. “I feel like I can’t get anything done anymore. I’m way behind on the encryption software project because the Commander expects me to keep an eye on Sasha.”

Iona scoffs. “The pet he brought back from that raid a year ago?”

“Don’t call her that.” Rika shoots a harrowing glare at Iona, then shakes her head and takes another gulp from her glass. “She’s a handful, but she doesn’t deserve that. She hates him.”

“Fair enough. Think I would, too, if he’d murdered my family in front of me.” Iona takes a sip from her own glass, contemplating Rika’s gloomy mood. “What does he plan to do with her?”

“Commander thinks she has potential as a special ops assassin. I’d agree with him if she wasn’t trying to end herself at least once a week. I’m not sure she’ll make it long enough to test his theory.”

Iona’s eyes widen in alarm. “Shouldn’t you be watching her now, then?”

“Six months ago I would have agreed with you. But I have a good feel for how to handle this now. I’ve lost count, but this has to be at least the thirtieth attempt. I gave her a sedative and she should be sleeping for at least a few more hours–”

“Rika–!”

“A sedative I developed especially for her, don’t worry. It’s an appropriate dose.” Rika resists the urge to remind Iona that she has degrees in biochemistry from Yale, Harvard, and the WASP Research Institute. “I just needed…a little time away.”

“Understandable. Was it worse than usual today?”

“I wouldn’t say worse. Just…unexpected. She hasn’t tried to drown before. Not a way I’d pick to go, personally.”

“Where would she even manage that here?” Iona raises a good point; access to merfolk quarters in WASP isn’t handed out to just anyone, least of all trainees with no certifications, and swimming pools aren’t part of the regular training and fitness centers for special operatives. “In a bathtub? During training?”

“She was in the shower after training. Commander ran her hard today. The way the water sounded changed, so I called her name…no answer.” Rika shudders and then takes another drink. “She was face-down on the shower floor. Her mouth and nose were submerged.” Rika’s eyes close as an image of the bony, battered eleven-year-old crumpled in the shower sears her mind.

“But she’s okay now?” Iona prompts.

“As far as I know. It’s not for nothing I’ve done all the medic training WASP offers. I got the water out of her lungs and got her stabilized. She even woke up for a bit–no signs of brain damage or anything. But I don’t think she was listening to the lecture about how she can’t keep doing this.”

“Doesn’t she care about you, at least? She has to know this is taking a toll on you.”

Rika shakes her head. “Even if she cares about that, it’s not enough to change her mind, given what she’s been through. I’ve told her there has to be something left for her to live for, but I don’t think she believes me. She’s so young, and she’s lost everyone she cared about, in such a violent, traumatizing way…”

“Maybe you can work with that.” Iona’s expression turns crafty, almost menacing.

“What do you mean, Iona?”

“If I were her, I’d want revenge.”

“In this case, getting revenge would be committing treason.”

Iona leans closer to whisper in Rika’s ear. “I know the Commander’s not your favorite person. He’s made a lot of enemies lately with stunts like the one with Sukoshu’s family and the dryads that orphaned your charge. What goes around comes around, yeah? Why not give karma a little help?”

“Immortality is kind of a waste if I’m going to get myself executed as an accomplice to treason,” Rika mumbles. Fortunately, Derek is at the other end of the bar, entertaining other patrons.

“Just because something is illegal doesn’t mean it’s wrong. Especially since, in this case, planting the idea would be giving Sasha something to live for. Saving her life.”

Rika runs a finger around the rim of her glass. Iona has a point. Real life doesn’t work like computer coding; answers aren’t always black and white, ones and zeros.

“I’ll talk to her about it. When she wakes up. Thanks, Iona.”

Iona flashes Rika a brilliant grin, and Rika wishes for the eighty-seventh time since she’s met Iona that her friend wasn’t straight.

“Another round, please, Derek!” Iona calls the bartender. “Rika needs to have at least a little fun before she goes back to the grind.”

“You got it!” Derek agrees. Rika doubts that she’ll be able to have any fun, under the circumstances; all she wanted was some respite. But as her eyes meet Iona’s, she decides it can’t hurt to try.