The problem with kidnapping a Vampire Lord and a Daoist Immortal in a 2014 Honda Civic was not the lack of horsepower, though that was certainly an issue. The problem was the legroom.
"Move your knee," Elara hissed, white-knuckling the steering wheel as she wove through traffic. "You're hitting the gear shift."
"I am a Lord of the Night," Aldren complained from the passenger seat, his knees pressed awkwardly against the glove compartment. "I was not designed for... compact economy vehicles. This feels like a torture device invented by the Spanish Inquisition."
"It's a sedan, not an iron maiden," Elara snapped. She glanced in the rearview mirror. No flashing lights yet, but the wail of sirens was a constant, dissonant harmony in the distance.
From the back seat, Li Wusheng sat in a perfect lotus position, hovering three inches above the upholstery. "The Feng Shui of this carriage is atrocious," he observed calmly. "The energy flow is stagnant. And it smells of... what is that? Artificial pine?"
"It's an air freshener," Elara said. "And please stop floating. You're blocking my view of the rear window."
"I am merely preserving my core," Li replied, closing his eyes. "Being this close to a creature of dark blood requires intense spiritual fortification."
Aldren scoffed, fiddling with the air conditioning vents. "You're just motion sick. Admit it, Bamboo Stick. You can fly on a sword at Mach 2, but a little stop-and-go traffic defeats you."
"Your presence defeats me," Li muttered.
Elara took a sharp right turn, throwing Aldren against the door and Li against the window.
"Ow!" Aldren yelped. "Watch the silk!"
"Shut up!" Elara shouted, her voice cracking. "Both of you, just shut up! I am currently a fugitive. I have kidnapped two unidentified super-beings. I am driving away from a crime scene that involved a fireball and a vampire suplexing a monk onto a minivan. If I get pulled over, I am going to prison forever. So, unless you have a spell to fix my insurance premiums, be quiet!"
Silence descended on the car. It lasted for exactly six seconds.
"I could turn the police into toads," Aldren offered helpfully.
"No," Elara said.
"A simple memory-wiping fog?" Li suggested. "I would need to burn a talisman, which might set off the fire alarm in this... vehicle."
"No fire," Elara said. "No toads. No magic. just let me drive."
She merged onto a side road, heading away from the highway and toward the industrial district. She needed to think. She needed a plan. She needed a Xanax the size of a hockey puck.
"Where are we going, my love?" Aldren asked, his tone softening. He reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, but his long, sharp fingernail accidentally tapped her glasses.
"Don't touch me," Elara said, swatting his hand away. "And don't call me 'my love.' My name is Elara. And I'm taking us to the only place I can think of where the SWAT team won't look immediately."
"My chateau?" Aldren's eyes lit up. "It has a moat. And a dungeon."
"My sect's hidden mountain retreat?" Li asked. "It is invisible to mortal eyes."
"No," Elara said grimly. "My apartment."
The drive to Elara's apartment complex, "The Sanguine Meadows" (which contained neither meadows nor optimism), was a masterclass in anxiety.
Every time a police cruiser drove by in the opposite direction, Aldren would hiss like a feral cat and Li Wusheng would start chanting a concealment mantra that made the radio static go crazy.
"Stop chanting!" Elara whispered. "You're interfering with the GPS!"
"I am shielding us from the Heavens' gaze," Li argued.
"Well, shield us from the speed trap on 4th Avenue," Elara retorted.
By the time they pulled into the cracked asphalt parking lot of her building, Elara felt like she had aged forty years. She parked the Civic between a dumpster and a car that had been missing its front tires since the Bush administration.
"We're here," she announced, killing the engine.
Aldren looked out the window. He took in the peeling beige paint, the overflowing recycling bins, and the neighbor, Mr. Henderson, who was walking his ferret on a leash.
"This is..." Aldren searched for a word. "Quaint. Rustic. Is it a prison colony?"
"It's affordable housing," Elara said, unbuckling her seatbelt. "Get out. And act normal."
"Define normal," Li Wusheng said, unfolding his legs and stepping out of the car with the grace of a gazelle.
"Don't float," Elara instructed. "Don't glow. Don't talk about blood feuds. And Aldren, put your sunglasses back on. Your eyes are literally red."
Aldren slid his sunglasses onto his face. "I look like a rock star. I blend in perfectly."
"You look like you're about to assault a photographer," Elara corrected. "Just follow me. And don't look at Mr. Henderson."
They walked toward the building entrance. It was a strange parade: a frazzled young woman in business casual holding a laptop bag, flanked by a 6'4" goth billionaire and a man in Tang Dynasty cosplay.
Mr. Henderson stopped his ferret. He stared at them.
"Evening, Elara," Mr. Henderson grunted. "New boyfriends?"
Elara felt her face heat up. "Something like that. Cousins. From... out of town. Very far out of town."
"Right," Mr. Henderson said, eyeing Li Wusheng's sword. "Nice prop. LARPing?"
"Cultivating the Dao," Li replied stiffly.
"He's very method," Elara interrupted, shoving Li toward the door. "Goodnight, Mr. Henderson!"
She hurried them into the lobby, which smelled of bleach and old mail. She punched the elevator button frantically.
"The aura of this place is depressing," Aldren noted, running a gloved finger along a dusty fake plant. "It reeks of mediocrity and instant noodles."
"It's home," Elara muttered. "And it's better than a jail cell."
The elevator arrived with a shuddering groan. They piled in.
"Fourth floor," Elara said, pressing the button.
The elevator lurched upward.
"So," Aldren said, breaking the silence. "This... 'Gary' person you mentioned earlier. The one with the ham scent. Shall I dispose of him?"
"What? No!" Elara looked at him, horrified. "You can't just kill my boss!"
"Why not?" Aldren looked genuinely confused. "He causes you distress. In the 15th century, I beheaded a Duke because he made you frown during a banquet."
"And in the 9th century," Li Wusheng added, "I cursed a village harvest because the innkeeper served you cold tea."
Elara stared at the floor numbers ticking up. 2... 3...
"You guys are the problem," she whispered. "You realize that, right? You are the red flags. You are the toxic exes warning stories tell us about."
"I am not an ex," Aldren said, offended. "I am the eternal present."
"I am the inevitable future," Li countered.
The elevator dinged at the fourth floor. Elara practically ran out.
She fumbled with her keys at door 4B. Her hands were shaking. She finally managed to unlock it and pushed the door open.
"Welcome," she sighed. "To my fortress of solitude."
The apartment was small. It was a studio with a "sleeping alcove" (a closet with a window) and a kitchenette that allowed you to open the fridge and the oven at the same time. There was a lumpy grey couch, a TV that she'd bought on Black Friday, and a cat tree.
Sitting on the cat tree was Mr. Whiskers, a fat orange tabby with one ear.
Mr. Whiskers looked at the intruders. He blinked.
"Behold," Li Wusheng whispered, bowing slightly to the cat. "The Tiger Spirit."
Mr. Whiskers yawned and began to lick his butt.
"Majestic," Li murmured.
Aldren strode into the room, his cape brushing against the doorframe. He looked around with the expression of someone who had just stepped in something wet with socks on.
"It is... cozy," Aldren lied. "Like a coffin. But with less velvet."
"Sit," Elara commanded, pointing to the couch. "Both of you. Sit down."
The two powerful immortals looked at each other, then at Elara. Something in her voice—perhaps the sheer, unadulterated exhaustion of a modern corporate employee—made them obey.
They sat on the small grey couch. They were so large that their shoulders pressed together. Aldren tried to lean away, and Li tried to scoot, but there was nowhere to go. They looked like two grumpy teenagers in detention.
Elara threw her bag on the floor and paced in front of them.
"Okay," she said. "Talk. And keep it short. I want the bullet points. Who are you, why do you think I'm some ancient princess, and why did you destroy a highway?"
Aldren spoke first. "I am—"
"Bullet points!" Elara interrupted.
Aldren sighed. "Fine. 1. I am a Vampire Lord. 2. You are the reincarnation of Elara, the Golden Soul. 3. We have been lovers for 47 lifetimes. 4. The Bamboo Stick over there is a celestial cockblock."
Li Wusheng bristled. "Correction. 1. I am an Immortal Ascendant. 2. You are the Keystone of Reality. 3. We are destined soulmates. 4. The Bat Demon is a parasitic stalker who gets you killed in every lifetime."
"I do not get her killed!" Aldren shouted, standing up. "I try to save her! You're the one who failed to stop the Plague Beast in the Tang Dynasty!"
"I was holding the barrier!" Li stood up too, his hand going to his sword hilt. "You were busy writing bad poetry!"
"It was a sonnet!"
"Sit down!" Elara yelled.
They sat. The couch groaned in protest.
Elara rubbed her temples. "Okay. So, reincarnation. Magic. Destiny. Let's assume, for a second, that I haven't had a psychotic break and this is real. Why now? Why today?"
"The cycle is ending," Li Wusheng said gravely. "Usually, your soul rests for a century between births. But you were born only twenty years after your last death. The frequency is increasing. It means the barrier is thinning."
"And He knows," Aldren added, his voice dropping an octave. " The Weaver. The Deity who cursed us."
"The guy who likes to watch me die?" Elara asked.
"The guy who thinks your suffering is prime-time entertainment," Aldren corrected. "He has sent hunters. That is why we had to intervene. If we hadn't grabbed you, the Shadows would have."
Elara walked over to her kitchenette and opened the fridge. She took out a bottle of cheap white wine. She didn't bother with a glass. She took a long pull straight from the bottle.
"Okay," she said, wiping her mouth. "So, people are hunting me. You two are... protecting me?"
"With my life," Aldren vowed.
"With my soul," Li promised.
"Great," Elara said. "So my bodyguards are a vampire who can't drive and a monk who thinks my cat is a god."
"He has a powerful aura," Li insisted, glancing at Mr. Whiskers.
Elara sighed. She looked at her phone. 14 missed calls from Gary. 3 texts from her mom asking if she was dating a magician (Mom had seen the news).
"We can't stay here," Elara said. "If the police run my plates, they'll come here. They have my address."
"I have already obscured the ley lines," Li said. "To anyone searching for 'Elara Vance' in the digital or spiritual realm, you do not exist. I scrambled the... what is it called? The IP Address? The Social Security Chakra?"
Elara stared at him. "You hacked the government with magic?"
"I clouded the minds of the clerks," Li said modestly. "It is a simple confusion hex. Anyone who looks at your file will suddenly remember they left the oven on and walk away."
"And I," Aldren added, checking his nails, "have purchased your building."
Elara choked on her wine. "You what?"
"I bought it. While we were in the elevator," Aldren said, holding up a sleek black smartphone. "I liquidated some assets. The Henderson Logistics corporation now owns this building, and I own Henderson Logistics."
"You bought my company?" Elara shrieked. "In the elevator?"
"It was a hostile takeover. Very exciting. Gary is fired, by the way."
Elara sat down on the floor. It was too much. It was all too much.
"So," she said weakly. "I'm unemployed. But I own my apartment?"
"Technically, I own it," Aldren grinned. "But you can live here rent-free. As my concubine."
"Roommate," Elara corrected sharply.
"We shall negotiate the title later."
"There will be no concubines," Li Wusheng said, crossing his arms. "I shall sleep on the floor to guard the door. The Bat can sleep in the bathtub."
"I require a coffin!"
"You can have the shower curtain," Li said dismissively.
Elara looked at them. They were ridiculous. They were dangerous. They were undeniably powerful. And, for some reason, they were looking at her like she was the only thing in the universe that mattered.
A strange feeling tugged at her chest. A sense of déjà vu. She looked at Aldren's red eyes and felt a flash of... a ballroom? A waltz?
She looked at Li's jade hairpin and smelled... incense? Rain on a mountain peak?
She shook her head, clearing the phantom memories.
"Okay," Elara said, standing up. "Here are the rules. Rule one: No magic in the apartment unless we are under attack. Rule two: You explain everything to me, slowly, starting tomorrow. Rule three: Whoever uses the bathroom last has to put the seat down."
"I do not use the bathroom," Li said. "My body is pure energy."
"Showoff," Aldren muttered. "I accept your terms, my love."
"Elara. My name is Elara."
"For now," Aldren said softly.
Suddenly, a loud knock echoed from the door.
Elara froze. Aldren hissed. Li Wusheng's hand went to his sword.
"Elara?" a voice called out. "It's Mrs. Gable from 4A. I heard shouting. Is everything okay? Do you have... men in there?"
Elara looked at the two supernatural warriors ready to slaughter her elderly neighbor.
"Hide," she whispered.
"I do not hide," Aldren declared.
"Get in the closet!" Elara pointed to her sleeping alcove.
"I am a King!"
"Closet! Now!"
Grumbling, the Vampire Lord and the Immortal squeezed into her tiny closet, crushing her winter coats. Elara slammed the door shut just as the knocking came again.
She took a deep breath, smoothed her hair, and opened the front door.
"Hi, Mrs. Gable!" Elara said, forcing a bright, manic smile. "Everything is fine! Just... watching a movie! A very loud, action movie!"
Mrs. Gable peered inside, sniffing the air. "Smells like sulfur. And expensive cologne."
"4D technology," Elara lied. "Very immersive. Goodnight!"
She slammed the door and leaned against it, sliding down until she hit the floor.
From the closet, she heard a muffled voice.
"Get your elbow out of my ribcage, Bamboo Stick."
"Remove your foot from my robe, Bat."
Elara closed her eyes.
"Welcome to life number forty-seven," she whispered. "It's going to be a long one."