Chapter 6: If You Seek Aimee
Fri, 13 Oct 2034
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Fri, 13 Oct 2034
Skye sat with her feet pulled up on her couch and arms slung around her legs as she told Nixie what had happened during her last delivery. Nixie leaned against the couch armchair with a frown knitted on his face as he listened quietly. His hands coiled into fists as Skye spoke.
Once she finished the story, he huffed and said, “I could make it so that Benny’s socks will always be damp.”
That surprised Skye. “Can you actually do that?”
“Aye. Little, peevish curses are what we fae are known for. He’ll have soggy socks until the day he kicks the bucket for good.” Nixie held his angry pout. “I can’t do much else. But I wish I could. I’m so mad…”
“I’m fine. I don’t ever have to go there again.” Skye straightened up, crossing her legs underneath her. “The whole ordeal has got me thinking, though.”
“About what?”
“Ceana effortlessly took him down. I don’t think Cathy would have stood a chance against Benny.” Skye met Nixie’s gaze. “Maybe I should try to find someone of an earlier generation to turn me.”
Nixie’s lips parted. “Oh.”
“Don’t tell on me, please.”
“I won’t tell anyone, promise,” Nixie said.
Skye slouched against the couch, fingers fiddling with her braids. Her gaze drifted to the window. The half-moon peeked through a gap in the curtains. On Fridays, she’d normally be Neon Black and dancing at Blush. She needed this quiet night, but also wished to be on stage.
Nixie reached into his coat’s pocket and took out a paper bag for Skye. “I got you this on the way here. You sounded sad on the phone, so I thought you could use it.”
Skye reached to take the bag and peered in to see an absurdly large chocolate chip cookie. She smiled. “Aw, cute. That’s sweet of you.”
“If Dom says he lost a fiver, don’t tell him shit,” Nixie said with a wry grin.
Skye snorted. “Ah, Nix. Thank you.”
The front door thudded thrice; Skye and Nixie jumped to their feet.
“Aimee!” a deep voice bellowed, followed by more aggressive thuds. The handle of the door swivelled. Thankfully, Skye had locked it.
“Who the fuck–?” Nixie looked up at Skye.
“I think that’s James.” James was Aimee’s boyfriend, a barrel-chested bald man with a wiry beard who was nine years Aimee’s senior. Skye had met him once before. Though he’d been jolly enough when Skye saw him, she took an instant dislike to his abrasive disposition and how touchy he was with Aimee.
The thudding grew louder. “I know you’re in there!”
Nixie looked to Skye quizzically. She shook her head and called out, “Aimee isn’t here.” Which wasn’t a lie. Skye hadn’t seen Aimee in days – which hadn’t seemed odd, considering how often Aimee slept over at her boyfriend’s.
“Then let me in!” James shouted.
“No fucking way am I letting you in.”
“‘Ey.” Nixie nudged Skye. “Maybe don’t curse at the angry guy who’s about to break the door down.”
Skye gestured to the door, whispering back. “What, I’m meant to be polite to that?”
“No, just don’t escalate things.”
“He’s escalating things.”
The door jittered. “Where is Aimee?”
“I don’t know!” Skye snapped.
“Her phone’s off, the spiteful bitch.”
Nixie cut in. “When did you last see her?”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Skye’s friend,” Nixie answered.
James stopped banging on the door. He grumbled to himself before he gave a coherent response. “We had sundowners in the woods on Tuesday. We fought. She said she’d walk home, so I left in my car. She’s been refusing to see me for two days, now.”
Nixie narrowed his eyes. “Wasn’t it pouring on Tuesday night? Would she really walk back home?”
“Fuck you!” James threw a final fist against the door before he stomped away.
Skye inclined her head towards the door, looking at Nixie. “I think he’s hiding something.”
“I think he’s piss-drunk,” Nixie mumbled.
“Of course he is. He can be drunk and hiding something.” Skye took out her phone to call Aimee. It went to voicemail. “Seems it’s off.”
“Well, shit.” Nixie rubbed the back of his head. “Where could she be?”
“If she’s not here, she’s usually at James’ place,” Skye said. “She has no other place she stays.”
“What about her parents?”
“She’s from Glasgow,” Skye said. “There’s a chance she went there, though I got the impression Aimee’s got a complicated relationship with her family.”
“So, what now?”
Skye sighed. “I think I should call the police.”
The call was disheartening. The person on the other side quickly lost interest after Skye said that Aimee was nineteen. Skye was left with instructions to visit the station in the morning. Not wanting to sit idle, Skye left with Nixie in tow. Maybe that would put some pressure on them.
They arrived at 23:30. The two on-duty officers looked a stumble away from retirement, and the receptionist was a glassy-eyed thirty-something year old bloke. The liveliest employee was a roving Roomba. After Skye pushed for the officers to be more proactive, they told her to wait while they looked at the data systems.
Skye and Nixie took a seat on the icy metal chairs. The police station had frigid white tiles, harsh LED lights and plastic plants. The Roomba looked equally dated, certainly over a decade old.
Nixie nudged Skye. He showed her the time on his phone: 00:12.
“It’s already Saturday,” Nixie said.
“The officers will see you as soon as possible,” repeated the receptionist, pushing his blue-rimmed glasses up his nose. He clicked away at his desktop computer. Skye was certain he was not doing work.
The Roomba headbutted a wall. It paused, lights flashing momentarily. Then it whirred off in another direction.
Skye showed Nixie the missing poster she had made on her phone while they waited. She had provided some basic details of Aimee, including a guesstimate of her height, and used a picture of Aimee beaming over a cup of coffee and quiche. Skye had taken the photo in September at Aimee’s request. Back then, Skye had misread Aimee’s impulsiveness as naivety. But, as time went by, Skye realised that Aimee wasn’t naïve to danger, but rather uncomfortable in its absence.
An officer stepped through. He leaned up against the high reception desk, his pink, wrinkled fingers clamped around a mug of tea. “The hospitals have not seen her. Our computers did not pick up on her face being on any public transport since last Tuesday afternoon.”
Skye stood up. “That’s bad.”
The officer shrugged. He drew in a deep breath before heaving it out to clear his throat. “We managed to get a hold of her parents. They say she has a habit of running away.”
“Her boyfriend left her in the woods on a rainy night. That is not her running away,” Skye asserted.
“It’s not exactly the Amazon out there. Besides, her phone pinged last in the city,” the officer said.
Skye frowned. “‘Last pinged’ – so it is off.”
“Not abnormal behaviour for a runaway.” The officer slurped at his tea, the noise grating Skye. “We deferred to her parents. They say to give it a week or two.”
Skye’s fingernails dug into her palm. “It’s nearly been a week since she went missing. And this is their daughter. Even if she did run away–”
“She’s an adult. Adults are allowed to run away.” The officer sighed. “Listen, students do this often. And, from her history, it seems she’s popping in and out of people’s lives all the time.”
“Will you at least question her boyfriend?” Skye asked.
“Sure.”
“When?”
The officer looked languidly to the side. “Not tonight.”
The Roomba knocked against a chair. Paused. Changed course.
“You can leave, now. Thank you for reporting her missing, though.”
Skye shook her head as the officer departed. Then, she turned to leave, her shoes loud against the tiles.
“Maybe we can set up search parties?” Nixie suggested as they exited the station. “Mornings and late afternoons? Maybe the late afternoons go a bit after sunset, so some of those in the vamp scene can join. Their senses should be helpful.”
“I think that’s a good idea, since the police aren’t doing shit.”
“Can add that to her poster.”
“I will.”
Skye pulled on her coat as she stepped through the station doors and into the chilly autumn night. For a moment, she imagined Aimee in the cold of the forest. With the cold was Benny’s stench. What if he found her? Skye pushed that thought away, as if allowing it to linger would make it true.
As the pair sat down at the bus stop, Nixie commented, “We sprites don’t have parents, but I’m pretty sure that Aimee’s parents aren’t reacting normally. Right?”
“It’s not normal, no.” Skye stared past Nixie. A little hesitant, she said, “Though I doubt my mum would care if I vanished. Last thing she said to me was that she has no daughter, just a dead son.”
Nixie gasped. “That’s fucked up. It’s her loss not having you in her life. You’re the coolest person I know.”
“She grew up in Angola, and my maternal side is super religious. Initially, she tried to accept me.” Skye felt numbness dab over her senses, the world dimming. “But then the NHS stopped funding any gender affirming care. At all. My dad wanted his savings to go towards my transition and education. My mum didn’t have much in terms of her own savings – after bills and sending money back home, she only had pennies. She felt like he was choosing me over her. He divorced her to make sure his money would go to my future.”
“It was his choice. That’s not your fault,” Nixie said. “It’s not right that she shut you out like that.”
“I don’t blame myself.” Not anymore. As a teenager, Skye had hated her mother nearly as much as she hated herself. That hatred was gone, even if the pain was not. “I know that she went through a lot. We all did. I wish things had been easier, but they weren’t.”
Nixie tilted his head. “You’re really strong, you know?”
Skye smiled, though it didn’t meet her eyes. “Thanks.”
The two fell quiet. Skye took out her phone to make some final adjustments to the poster. Though it was 00:35, she sent the poster out to every student group chat she had.
“Nix?” Skye murmured.
“Yeah?” Nixie looked up at Skye.
Skye’s voice cracked, “I fucked up.”
“What do you mean?”
“I should have noticed Aimee was missing,” she said.
“Well, Aimee usually was at her boyfriend’s, wasn’t she? And it wasn’t like you two were close.”
“She wanted to be close.” Skye clutched her phone tight. Her bare fingers were growing numb from the cold air. “I think she saw me as an older sister, in a way. And I let her down.”
Nixie poked Skye’s shoulder. “Hey, you’re doing what you can right now.”
Skye bit her lower lip. “I just hope it’ll be enough.”
꩜
Skye slept until her alarm woke her at eight. Her phone had dozens of notifications about Aimee, but none of them had any useful information. Amidst the noise was a message from Auntie Marina.
‘Hi, Skye. We haven’t spoken in a while! How have you been doing?’
Skye gritted her teeth.
Before becoming a member of the undead, a familiar had to distance themself from their human relationships. Under the strictest enforcement of Command law, this had to be through faking one’s death. Inge was more lenient, instead allowing a gradual drifting apart, but it had to be complete prior to being turned.
Skye had accepted these terms without much deliberation. It did not feel like a change in her life’s trajectory after she discovered that she would develop Huntington’s. She had promised herself that she’d deal with the disease on her own to spare Auntie Marina of enduring its horrors all over again.
Auntie Marina had spent her whole life being a caretaker – first for her sickly mother, then her sickly older brother. When Skye’s own mother left, Auntie Marina became Skye’s rock as well. Auntie Marina had spent so much time being the foundation of her family that she only seemed to be starting her life now. She recently had her first baby, Melody; the product of eggs frozen twenty years ago. Finally, she got her chance to caretake out of choice and not obligation.
Skye knew from her own experience that Auntie Marina’s love and support was unconditional. Which was why Skye did not want to steal any more of that love for herself. She couldn’t tell Auntie Marina about her test results for Huntington’s, or about her missing flatmate, or any of her other woes. Because, no matter how trivial or heavy, Auntie Marina would help. And that would ruin her much-deserved happiness.
To achieve this gradual distancing, Skye intentionally only gave positive updates – decent grades, decent job, great performances. It was a veneer of adulthood, of success. Of independence. Of not needing Auntie Marina’s help.
So, Skye replied, ‘I’m doing well, thanks! Just stressed with uni, but nothing new.’
Typing out and sending that message twisted Skye’s heart, just like every other lie she’d given her Auntie. Each one pushed Auntie Marina further out of Skye’s life. Skye had to tell herself to push through the pain. I’m the last bit of Huntington’s left in the family, she told herself. I’m gifting Auntie her freedom. She deserves that.
Another message came in, pulling Skye’s attention away from her heavy thoughts. It was Kei. ‘Hey, you’re going on the search parties?’
‘I’m going to as many as I can,’ Skye replied.
‘I think I can do the evening ones. I’ll see you tonight?’
Skye wondered why Kei was asking her. She hoped that he didn’t view this as some way to get close to her. That would be messed up.
She brushed off her worries. Whatever his motive was, he was another pair of eyes. She replied, ‘Sure.’