Ch.6
To take a chance so bittersweet...
'You’re still a part of everything I do...
Four Months Later...
His eyes needed to focus; the ink was running into a complete blare. Each of the characters a blackened dot, melting and merging with the other. Slipping out his pocket watch, he checked the time and sighed.
He had been at it since sunset and now the hunger clawed away at his belly for the need to feed. Throwing down his pen, Henry stood and stretched the kinks out of his spine that had been bent over the drawing board for two hours straight. Walking towards the bank of windows, he stopped and watched over the city that lay out before him. Lights twinkled off and on as people moved about their business. Each heartbeat drummed into the other. Their lives ebbed and flowed, going about their lives, suspecting nothing.
A storm was blowing, not the kind that came in with the weather as the atmosphere changed, but something metallic, something dangerous....something deadly.
He’d suspected it for some time now but hadn’t reckoned on it being so soon. Things had to be put in place, people notified, arrangements made.
“Goodbye Henry...”
He closed his eyes as her voice entered his head again. Those simple words that held so much emotion, so much failure...so much meaning. He’d spent the last few months trying to make a difference in his life. Following her departure, he’d gone to meet Augustus and told him his situation had changed - that he no longer needed to move out of the city. Of course, he had then spent several hours debating with the old watcher, giving him a list of reasons why he didn’t deserve being staked for messing up his well laid plans for the move.
Returning to solitary confinement suited his needs, helped him heal the wounds that cut deeper than any knife. He kept away from the area she lived in, stayed away from the parts of town she would frequent. Did not answer any calls that blinked on his answering service from Coreen, who was only trying to help mend the situation between them, possibly felt responsible for it, but that didn’t matter anymore. He knew none came from Vicki; therefore he didn’t bother answering, but simply deleted the messages after they came in. He wanted everyone to believe he had moved to Vancouver, the sooner they forgot him the better.
After a month the calls stopped, the messages ceased, and his world was transported into silence once more.
The memories however, where much harder to erase...
He presumed they would, had guaranteed that by his next encounter with a willing female who became lost in the atmosphere he wove around her, Vicki’s face would be all but a distant memory - foolish thoughts.
If anything, he found himself missing her cryptic quips, her ever dry sarcasm. He found watching every female that walked into the small exclusive bars he went to, checking to see if she wore glasses. Did she pull her hair up tight in a ponytail, or in one of those clasps that begged to spill the tresses around her shoulders? He found conversations he had with those he delighted in the flesh as well as their blood, dull and boring. Actresses or models tended to only speak about themselves, and had little if nothing to do with anything else. They knew zero about art or poetry, even history they drew a blank. At least with Vicki, she showed an interest. Became thirsty for the knowledge and held part of his life in her head, remembering the past helped her understand his present.
How had he survived so long living between meals and enduring dull pleasantries just so he could feed? He loved women; he loved their smell, the way they held themselves, the way they responded. Up until a year ago, he had always expected his life to move from one moment to the next. Demanded his solitude, for it was a certainty he had control over...
Now?
He craved conversation, something to pass the time between twilight and dawn. He scanned every newspaper for crimes committed, and whether people like Detective Celluci captured any of these criminals? Exasperation entered his life and he found himself more than once pacing his domain, wondering whether to go out, in hope he would run into her.
Pulling his hands through his hair, slowly he turned and went to the small kitchen for some water. It was a little after nine, the time when many would be going out to the various clubs dotted around the main part of the city. He still had another two hours of work ahead of him, but right now he needed to feed. To try and banish the image of a tall, sleek woman, with long blonde hair, wide expressive eyes and no nonsense kick ass attitude.
~~~~
Across Town...
Throwing her glasses down on top of the wooden surface, eyes stung
From hours, sitting behind her laptop that hummed louder than the air con that rattled in the corner. Her newly acquired apartment still smelt of the painters who had thankfully gone for the day. Remodelling the rooms had taken every single penny she had put away from the last three cases at her old premises and she finally had something to show for it. Okay, so she’d liked the old style of wooden floors and high vaulted ceilings, large spacious bay windows of the old Vicki Nelson P.I. had to offer. The new building offered and more up market style to her business as well as four spacious rooms that that had been turned into her living quarters. Yep in a few short months she had turned her life around. This place indicated a new start, a new life, a new hope...
“You don’t need me Vicki...”
Her breath caught in her throat, and she rubbed the tight spot just above her heart. His words carried on the wind, as if he’d blown straight into her life again. The solemn tone held regret, held resignation, held closure. It had been several months now since that dreadful night. A night that still haunted her in times when sleep could not be found. Alone in her bed she would cry, relive the conversation, see his eyes and feel the pain behind them. Moving away had been the only solution. A new neighbourhood, a new area, a new direction had allowed her to try and put back the pieces of her life. Coreen had demanded she come with her, deciding Vicki needed her now more than ever. Mike had taken her decision to not get in contact with him as a sign that they were not to resume their, whatever it is they had. As much as it would have helped alleviate the emptiness left behind from Henry, she had thought it wise to just simply walk away from it all.
Besides, now that the business was in another part of town, it meant the chances of her bumping into both men was slim, if not damn right impossible,
“I’m back!”
Coreen’s high pitched greeting indicated that the quietness that Vicki had wallowed and savoured, was now about to end. Sliding her glasses back onto the bridge of her nose and shutting down the applications she had running, Vicki plastered on a smile and greeted Coreen as she came through the door, her arms laden with fresh take out and two large cups of coffee, “I thought you might be hungry, since you haven’t left the place all day!”
Setting the bag filled with aromatic Chinese on her large oak desk, handing one of the cups to Vicki while she gingerly set hers on the edge that didn’t have files thrown around it, the slim dark haired assistant looked a far cry from the one who wore black with black and immersed herself in the dark arts.
Clean faced, with hair that was now pulled away from her face in a high ponytail. Bright pink top over dark pants and sensible if not slightly Goth-like boots was now Coreen Fennel’s idea of uniform for the office. A lot had changed from the night when Asteroth had tried to end her life. A lot had changed in Coreen. She no longer saw the dark and supernatural as something that drew her to it, but rather something she wanted to end. She blamed her mix up with the dark and freakish for ending Vicki’s relationship with two men who fought to protect her. Vicki, on the other hand didn’t have the heart in her to explain to her, that her involvement only helped things along to its rightful conclusion.
Vicki and men just didn’t get along.
Opening the lid of her favourite Sichuan chicken dish, she inhaled the aroma and thanked heaven they had moved to a place that still did good takeaway food, “Did Mrs. McMillan call?” her question ended with a sigh as she took her first mouthful of Kung-Po chicken. Coreen nodded as she lifted the file from beneath a dozen others and handed it to her boss with a smile, “Early this morning when you were out for your run. It seems her son has been doing a little more than moonlighting at The Royal Court!”
The Royal Court was a very glam, highly sophisticated nightclub in one of the fashionable ends of Toronto. Mostly the young and trendy frequented the place each night. All suffering from the same ailment, too much money and not enough time to blow it all. Either on speed or any other kind of amphetamine they could get their hands on. Eric McMillan had been that such kind of guy. Twenty-two, an insurance clerk for one of the main Canadian Insurance conglomerates. Flashy car, flashy lifestyle. Threw his money around like there was no tomorrow. Nice kid, but just didn’t know when to stop living the type of life that would only lead to one thing....and that one thing was the very reason his mother had come to Vicki, pleading for her to find him.
He had disappeared four days ago, so far the Police could find absolutely nothing on his whereabouts. His bank account hadn’t been touched, his car still sat in the parking lot to the side of the nightclub. It was if he had just got up and disappeared. Straight away warning bells went off inside her head. Elena had taken young men and had turned them to stone, but Vicki had put pay to that idea and using Henry’s sword...
The light of her desk lamp swayed in front of her eyes, as she clutched at the carton that held her dinner...the sword had decapitated Elena and thus ending old Medusa’s charms....
The sword had ended many things...
“O-Okay,” coughing she cleared her throat and took a long drag of her coffee. Hoping the liquid would soothe the lump that had formed in her throat, threatening to choke her, “So we have a list of people who had seen Eric that night. Anyone ring any bells?”
Coreen shook her head as she ploughed into her own meal, “Nothing substantial, except the owner seemed pretty shifty when I asked him about the girl Eric had been dancing with?”
Vicki checked her notes, “Irene Clark, Mmm she seems a good enough place to start. Did you pull up her address?” dismayed Coreen shook her head, “She’s not on the NDC, nor does she seem to have a current drivers licence. But I do know she’ll be at the club tonight!”
The broad grin told Vicki, Coreen was about to rope her into something she would regret. Sighing, she set down her half finished Kung-Po and fixed her assistant with a deathly glare, “I’m not gonna like this, am I?”
~~~~
He surveyed The Royal Court with the look of someone on a mission. His hunger needed appeased, but right now the music drummed through him. Its tempo fast and electric as he moved with grace and ease amongst the close knit bodies on the dance floor. He loved how their heartbeats rose together, creating a crescendo that was music to his ears. Watched as lace and Lycra was fashioned on slim and tempting bodies. Eyes that flashed recognition as they caught his and smiled. He loved the chase; it was the foreplay that brought everything to life for him. The place had a reputation for living life too much to the fool. Offering stimulants to enrich and lengthen the journey of the night. He had never found such favour in artificial satisfaction. Preferring to bring himself to an all time high, by mixing his pleasures, changing tactics and offering up a far better stimulant that what they were willing to pay for.
Rich people, depending on how they conducted their lives, found comfort in always having to outdo the next person by flashing their wealth. Being of Royal blood, money had never been an object, he had always enjoyed the finer things in life. It pitied him the way humans went about their existence. Always having to be the best at everything, - better than the next person, never happy with what they had. It was why he found his company with Vicki so refreshing. She didn’t care about monitory wealth, preferring to earn each penny and account for it. Simple and easy - work hard and reap the rewards.
He caught himself after his momentary lapse into the past, swallowing hard against the tidal of emotions it had brought forth. Setting himself up at the bar, he asked for a Scotch neat and stood leaning on the polished marble, taking in the surroundings and people that moved around within his vision, the night was shaping up to be very interesting,
“You new here?”
The voice was soft and challenging, yet it wasn’t the voice that startled him, it was the image it presented,
“Not new to that line!”
The challenge had been set with that very straight forward answer. Eyes flashed behind glassed frames, the face held a cool appraisal as it tilted up towards his...
Blinking, Henry brought the face of the voice that had spoken into focus. Short dark hair cut in a bob style, bright round dark eyes held the question that had been spoken from her lips, painted red,
“No, I’ve been here a few times,” he replied and welcomed the drink the bartender put in front of him. The dark amber liquid lit a fire in his throat. Too bad he couldn’t actually savour it - the curse of being a Vampire with dead taste buds,
“Have you? That’s strange; I would have seen you before now? My name’s Irene, Irene Clark!”
Henry took the offered hand she had given him and smiled charmingly at her, as he stoked the alabaster skin of her wrist. She was dressed as most women did when they went out with the soul attention of grabbing a man’s attention. Short and revealing, the dress did nothing to hide the imagination, but covered up enough to want to see more, “Well Irene, it seems the fates have decided tonight is the night that we should finally meet...my name is Henry,”
Her smile was wide and full of expression, as she pouted her lips and took a sip of her own drink. Sliding an arm up the sleeve of his jacket, “Well Henry, it does seem as if the fates have most definitely looked down on our favour.”
He took in her open flirtation as a sign of things to come, as his eyes caught and held someone stepping onto the dance floor. Walking in slow deliberate movements, she scanned the surroundings and drank in the atmosphere.
A simple knee length black dress covered her slim frame, but there was no doubt in his mind at just how unlike she was to the women who flaunted themselves around her. Her strength and beauty bounced off the glass panelling in waves. Hair, blonde and glowing was pinned high above her head, with wisps that caught and floated around her face from the air conditioning. Beside her stood a dark haired woman with less make up than the last time he laid eyes on her. Looking excited, quirky even as she was once described, tugged on the bare arm of the one that had caught his attention, pointing towards the other end of the bar.
He watched as the blonde nodded and spoke, allowing the dark haired one to move off in the direction she had pointed to. Time for Henry had stood still, the noise no longer deafening from the loud music blaring, but had come to a complete halt. His eyes never left the woman who had captured his full attention. She had lost some weight, her skin seemed paler than normal, but the same steely determination was set in her eyes as she took in everything and everyone around her.
Four months since they had last seen each other, and to him it was as if it was yesterday, when she had left his apartment and walked out of his life,
“Are you listening to a word I’m saying?” the impatient voice brought him out of the fog that had surrounded him, as he blinked and refocused. Deciding tonight was not going to be a good night for the so called ‘fates’ that had brought he and Irene together,
“Excuse me Irene, I am so sorry that I have to do this, but a...friend of mine has just walked in and I need to see them. Please forgive me?” He raised her hand to his lips and bestowed on it a kiss, as he allowed her to drown in the inky pools of his eyes, ‘You have somewhere else to go’
She blinked once, then twice and shook her head as she slipped her hand from beneath Henry’s mouth, “I-I’m sorry ah, Henry is it? I’ve just remembered I’ve somewhere else to go...If you’ll excuse me?”
He nodded once, indicating he understood and allowed Irene to slip in between a gap in the crowd on the dance floor and out of sight.
The dress was too tight; the heels pinched her toes and caused all kinds of blood loss to her feet, never mind the cramps that were playing havoc with her calves. Coreen’s idea of investigating was to get dolled up and go to the new ‘yuppie’ bar in search of the last known person to have seen Eric. Great, just great! She felt more like a fish out of water in a place like this. Having to look pretty was not Vicki’s idea of a good time, never mind the attention she was drawing to herself standing just off the edge of the small square that was called a dance floor, waiting for Coreen to signal to the owner they were here. The strobe lights that dotted around the ceiling were not doing her eyes any good either, her focus was blurry at the best of times, never mind having to endure a headache from the lighting that lit up areas of the bodies pressed together she didn’t particularly want to see.
Something or someone caught her eye, but by the time she focused - it was gone. A familiar feeling prickled long her senses, old memories stirred deep inside her...nah, she was just imaging it, too much caffeine during an investigation was never good for ones imagination. Coreen came towards her smiling as she melded into the crowd like a pro, “Jono says he will meet us in the back in ten minutes, oh and he also said Irene is here, chatting to some young rich dude at the bar!”
Vicki squinted and scanned the people at the bar. They all looked basically the same. Young, wealthy, smarmy with too much aftershave, too much time and not enough going on in their lives. The kind of place Henry Fitzroy would feel at home in...
She balked at the idea of him standing there propped up against the bar, drinking his favourite tipple and sizing up just who he was going to eat tonight?
Swallowing became difficult as she cleared her throat and slipped her glasses further up her nose, “Okay so she was off schmoozing with some loaded guy, they pretty much look the same to me?” Coreen had to agree with her there, “Well, if it’s any consolation I have a description of her from Jono. He said she normally comes in early, hangs around and singles out the wealthy and young. Then they retire to a booth where they stay there until closing time.”
Vicki reigned in her disgust at the type of predator that liked to lure men into their lairs - again her thoughts went back to Elena and how she desperately wanted to be loved and wanted to stay young. Her own vanity was her own downfall...was Irene just the same?
“Well then, we have a busy night ahead of us, tracking the elusive Miss Clark and find out just what happened to Eric?”
They moved further into the crowd and away from Henry’s earshot, but not too far from where he could see them without being found out. She was a bright beacon amongst the dullest of lights that begged for attention. Her whole body glowed and moved with grace and strength that he found himself enraptured by her beauty once more. The months apart had done nothing to his feelings, other than make them return with a vengeance as he watched her steal a glance near where he stood hidden in the shadows, “did she feel his presence here?”
His clenched his jaw as the movement of her hips caught his attention as they swayed beneath the silk of the dress. The predatory glint in his eye forced the howling of the hunger deep inside him to rattle and make its presence known. He could not let her out of his sight, not even for a moment. She had come to this part of town for a reason? This was way out of her jurisdiction as she so loved to explain. To him that meant she had stumbled into someone else’s territory - namely his. She obviously did not come here to pick up someone, that simply was not Vicki Nelson’s style, and not heavy stench that was Mike Celluci, drifted across his nose, so the only conclusion was, she was here on work related business, investigative protocol...but why and who?
Keeping himself hidden, offered Henry a selective view of both Vicki and Coreen and they spoke to the bartender - Ricky, who pointed them in the direction of the ladies washroom, a place Henry knew he could not risk being seen in, just in case he would get caught in a compromising position and thrown out. The last thing he needed was to draw attention to himself - again.
What was it with her? His life had become respectively mundane and quiet, yet here he was again, battling with the inner demon inside him that begged to inhale her fragrance, feel the softness of her skin and drown in the beating of her heart as blood rushed through her veins. Shaking his head, reprimanding his thoughts and cursed his body for responding to them. His urgency to find a meal was upsetting his train of thought and he needed to act quickly for fear of losing Vicki through the crowd that closed in around she and Coreen as two men came up to have a more than casual exchange with them. Blood boiled in his belly and the rush of anger spread across his skin like a fever. Clenching and unclenching his fists, he strolled down the steps from the balcony and with lightening speed, knocked the glass that one of the tall, lanky upwardly mobile shakers had in his hand, all over his companion as they stood gawking at the two women in their company,
“JESUS Stan can you be a little careful!”
Stan the taller of the two blushed red and excused himself, as the beer he had been enjoying toppled over his friends light grey shirt. Darkening the silk and soaking his skin,
“AW sorry Errol, don’t know how that happened, here let me get that for you?” Stan grabbed a paper napkin from the bar and proceeded to try and rub at the shirt of his best friend, who was swatting his hand away while trying to appear cool in front of the two women they had begun chatting up, “Gerroff you great big clampit, I can do it myself!”
Coreen and Vicki exchanged looks and simply laughed. A momentary lapsed in the most sickening of chat up lines was welcome, if not eerily staged as Vicki could have sworn she caught a whiff of a well known cologne that only one person in her life had ever worn, and had hung in the air long after he left...
Shaking her head, reminding herself that she was on a job and that thinking about a certain creature of the night was not going to help her mood one bit,
“Soo, you were saying about Irene?”
Stan looked blankly at Vicki as he tried to clean up the mess of his expensive $400 shirt, “Irene?”
She could sense this was going to be a very long night. The music blared, drowning out any kind of sensible conversation, never mind having to conduct a light hearted investigation with Laurel and Hardy, “Irene Clark, you said she is in here most nights?”
Stan registered what the tall good looking blonde was talking about, ah Irene, “Oh yeah, so I was. She comes in her most nights hot to trot - you know what I’m saying? Always looking for a catch, always hanging around the flash and slinking off to the booth near the back. Pretty y’know, sort of oriental...not my type personally but I hear what she does is give men something to remember her by!”
Vicki took in the information Stan willingly provided, “Something to remember her by?” Dread sunk deep into the pit of her stomach, she didn’t like the feeling about this,
“Yeah, I hear she has all kinds of...mind blowing ways of making a man remember her...if you know what I’m saying?”Stan’s grin said it all as Vicki nodded slowly, not really wanting to go into the details of just what Irene Clark did as a token of her affection. A scream came from the direction of the washrooms, ending their conversation pretty quick, as people began rushing forward to see what the commotion was all about. A young red headed girl stood just at the doors of the ladies washrooms, her face pale and tight as she let out a scream and brought her hands to her face. Lying just to the right of the door, slumped over like a rag doll. His blank eyes staring up at the ceiling, with a deep grotesque wound across his chest and down his left hand side, lay Eric McMillan.
Coreen make a squeak beside Vicki, as they both looked down at their client’s dead son. Not exactly the ending Vicki anticipated for the night, but at least his body and indeed his whereabouts had now been found. Movement brought more people closer to see what was happening, someone yelled from across the room to dial 911, others either stood around and gawked or made gagging sounds and tore away to barf up. Mrs. McMillan was not going to be happy Vicki thought dryly, having to let her client know her son was found dead, was not a prospect she was looking forward to. No one deserved to die, especially someone as young as Eric. Lifting her cell phone out of the small purse that Coreen insisted she carry, she began to dial the woman in question’s number, when through the crowd he moved until he was standing directly in front of her. Dressed in black, a dark blue shirt dramatically showing off his pale skin, matching blue eyes and long hair that always hung tussled, as if he had ran his hands a thousand times through it. He drank her in as much as she gawked at him.
Four months, four months it had taken for Vicki to try and wipe him out of her memory - unsuccessfully that is. Yet here is was in the flesh, so to speak. Standing directly opposite her at a now crime scene...what were the odds?
That odd familiar tug in her solar plexus, the strain of the shortness in her breath as if she had ran too fast, came flooding back with just one look at him,
“H-He-nry?”
A smile slowly crept on his face, faint enough for her to catch before it went away,
“Victoria?”
'You’re still a part of everything I do...
Four Months Later...
His eyes needed to focus; the ink was running into a complete blare. Each of the characters a blackened dot, melting and merging with the other. Slipping out his pocket watch, he checked the time and sighed.
He had been at it since sunset and now the hunger clawed away at his belly for the need to feed. Throwing down his pen, Henry stood and stretched the kinks out of his spine that had been bent over the drawing board for two hours straight. Walking towards the bank of windows, he stopped and watched over the city that lay out before him. Lights twinkled off and on as people moved about their business. Each heartbeat drummed into the other. Their lives ebbed and flowed, going about their lives, suspecting nothing.
A storm was blowing, not the kind that came in with the weather as the atmosphere changed, but something metallic, something dangerous....something deadly.
He’d suspected it for some time now but hadn’t reckoned on it being so soon. Things had to be put in place, people notified, arrangements made.
“Goodbye Henry...”
He closed his eyes as her voice entered his head again. Those simple words that held so much emotion, so much failure...so much meaning. He’d spent the last few months trying to make a difference in his life. Following her departure, he’d gone to meet Augustus and told him his situation had changed - that he no longer needed to move out of the city. Of course, he had then spent several hours debating with the old watcher, giving him a list of reasons why he didn’t deserve being staked for messing up his well laid plans for the move.
Returning to solitary confinement suited his needs, helped him heal the wounds that cut deeper than any knife. He kept away from the area she lived in, stayed away from the parts of town she would frequent. Did not answer any calls that blinked on his answering service from Coreen, who was only trying to help mend the situation between them, possibly felt responsible for it, but that didn’t matter anymore. He knew none came from Vicki; therefore he didn’t bother answering, but simply deleted the messages after they came in. He wanted everyone to believe he had moved to Vancouver, the sooner they forgot him the better.
After a month the calls stopped, the messages ceased, and his world was transported into silence once more.
The memories however, where much harder to erase...
He presumed they would, had guaranteed that by his next encounter with a willing female who became lost in the atmosphere he wove around her, Vicki’s face would be all but a distant memory - foolish thoughts.
If anything, he found himself missing her cryptic quips, her ever dry sarcasm. He found watching every female that walked into the small exclusive bars he went to, checking to see if she wore glasses. Did she pull her hair up tight in a ponytail, or in one of those clasps that begged to spill the tresses around her shoulders? He found conversations he had with those he delighted in the flesh as well as their blood, dull and boring. Actresses or models tended to only speak about themselves, and had little if nothing to do with anything else. They knew zero about art or poetry, even history they drew a blank. At least with Vicki, she showed an interest. Became thirsty for the knowledge and held part of his life in her head, remembering the past helped her understand his present.
How had he survived so long living between meals and enduring dull pleasantries just so he could feed? He loved women; he loved their smell, the way they held themselves, the way they responded. Up until a year ago, he had always expected his life to move from one moment to the next. Demanded his solitude, for it was a certainty he had control over...
Now?
He craved conversation, something to pass the time between twilight and dawn. He scanned every newspaper for crimes committed, and whether people like Detective Celluci captured any of these criminals? Exasperation entered his life and he found himself more than once pacing his domain, wondering whether to go out, in hope he would run into her.
Pulling his hands through his hair, slowly he turned and went to the small kitchen for some water. It was a little after nine, the time when many would be going out to the various clubs dotted around the main part of the city. He still had another two hours of work ahead of him, but right now he needed to feed. To try and banish the image of a tall, sleek woman, with long blonde hair, wide expressive eyes and no nonsense kick ass attitude.
~~~~
Across Town...
Throwing her glasses down on top of the wooden surface, eyes stung
From hours, sitting behind her laptop that hummed louder than the air con that rattled in the corner. Her newly acquired apartment still smelt of the painters who had thankfully gone for the day. Remodelling the rooms had taken every single penny she had put away from the last three cases at her old premises and she finally had something to show for it. Okay, so she’d liked the old style of wooden floors and high vaulted ceilings, large spacious bay windows of the old Vicki Nelson P.I. had to offer. The new building offered and more up market style to her business as well as four spacious rooms that that had been turned into her living quarters. Yep in a few short months she had turned her life around. This place indicated a new start, a new life, a new hope...
“You don’t need me Vicki...”
Her breath caught in her throat, and she rubbed the tight spot just above her heart. His words carried on the wind, as if he’d blown straight into her life again. The solemn tone held regret, held resignation, held closure. It had been several months now since that dreadful night. A night that still haunted her in times when sleep could not be found. Alone in her bed she would cry, relive the conversation, see his eyes and feel the pain behind them. Moving away had been the only solution. A new neighbourhood, a new area, a new direction had allowed her to try and put back the pieces of her life. Coreen had demanded she come with her, deciding Vicki needed her now more than ever. Mike had taken her decision to not get in contact with him as a sign that they were not to resume their, whatever it is they had. As much as it would have helped alleviate the emptiness left behind from Henry, she had thought it wise to just simply walk away from it all.
Besides, now that the business was in another part of town, it meant the chances of her bumping into both men was slim, if not damn right impossible,
“I’m back!”
Coreen’s high pitched greeting indicated that the quietness that Vicki had wallowed and savoured, was now about to end. Sliding her glasses back onto the bridge of her nose and shutting down the applications she had running, Vicki plastered on a smile and greeted Coreen as she came through the door, her arms laden with fresh take out and two large cups of coffee, “I thought you might be hungry, since you haven’t left the place all day!”
Setting the bag filled with aromatic Chinese on her large oak desk, handing one of the cups to Vicki while she gingerly set hers on the edge that didn’t have files thrown around it, the slim dark haired assistant looked a far cry from the one who wore black with black and immersed herself in the dark arts.
Clean faced, with hair that was now pulled away from her face in a high ponytail. Bright pink top over dark pants and sensible if not slightly Goth-like boots was now Coreen Fennel’s idea of uniform for the office. A lot had changed from the night when Asteroth had tried to end her life. A lot had changed in Coreen. She no longer saw the dark and supernatural as something that drew her to it, but rather something she wanted to end. She blamed her mix up with the dark and freakish for ending Vicki’s relationship with two men who fought to protect her. Vicki, on the other hand didn’t have the heart in her to explain to her, that her involvement only helped things along to its rightful conclusion.
Vicki and men just didn’t get along.
Opening the lid of her favourite Sichuan chicken dish, she inhaled the aroma and thanked heaven they had moved to a place that still did good takeaway food, “Did Mrs. McMillan call?” her question ended with a sigh as she took her first mouthful of Kung-Po chicken. Coreen nodded as she lifted the file from beneath a dozen others and handed it to her boss with a smile, “Early this morning when you were out for your run. It seems her son has been doing a little more than moonlighting at The Royal Court!”
The Royal Court was a very glam, highly sophisticated nightclub in one of the fashionable ends of Toronto. Mostly the young and trendy frequented the place each night. All suffering from the same ailment, too much money and not enough time to blow it all. Either on speed or any other kind of amphetamine they could get their hands on. Eric McMillan had been that such kind of guy. Twenty-two, an insurance clerk for one of the main Canadian Insurance conglomerates. Flashy car, flashy lifestyle. Threw his money around like there was no tomorrow. Nice kid, but just didn’t know when to stop living the type of life that would only lead to one thing....and that one thing was the very reason his mother had come to Vicki, pleading for her to find him.
He had disappeared four days ago, so far the Police could find absolutely nothing on his whereabouts. His bank account hadn’t been touched, his car still sat in the parking lot to the side of the nightclub. It was if he had just got up and disappeared. Straight away warning bells went off inside her head. Elena had taken young men and had turned them to stone, but Vicki had put pay to that idea and using Henry’s sword...
The light of her desk lamp swayed in front of her eyes, as she clutched at the carton that held her dinner...the sword had decapitated Elena and thus ending old Medusa’s charms....
The sword had ended many things...
“O-Okay,” coughing she cleared her throat and took a long drag of her coffee. Hoping the liquid would soothe the lump that had formed in her throat, threatening to choke her, “So we have a list of people who had seen Eric that night. Anyone ring any bells?”
Coreen shook her head as she ploughed into her own meal, “Nothing substantial, except the owner seemed pretty shifty when I asked him about the girl Eric had been dancing with?”
Vicki checked her notes, “Irene Clark, Mmm she seems a good enough place to start. Did you pull up her address?” dismayed Coreen shook her head, “She’s not on the NDC, nor does she seem to have a current drivers licence. But I do know she’ll be at the club tonight!”
The broad grin told Vicki, Coreen was about to rope her into something she would regret. Sighing, she set down her half finished Kung-Po and fixed her assistant with a deathly glare, “I’m not gonna like this, am I?”
~~~~
He surveyed The Royal Court with the look of someone on a mission. His hunger needed appeased, but right now the music drummed through him. Its tempo fast and electric as he moved with grace and ease amongst the close knit bodies on the dance floor. He loved how their heartbeats rose together, creating a crescendo that was music to his ears. Watched as lace and Lycra was fashioned on slim and tempting bodies. Eyes that flashed recognition as they caught his and smiled. He loved the chase; it was the foreplay that brought everything to life for him. The place had a reputation for living life too much to the fool. Offering stimulants to enrich and lengthen the journey of the night. He had never found such favour in artificial satisfaction. Preferring to bring himself to an all time high, by mixing his pleasures, changing tactics and offering up a far better stimulant that what they were willing to pay for.
Rich people, depending on how they conducted their lives, found comfort in always having to outdo the next person by flashing their wealth. Being of Royal blood, money had never been an object, he had always enjoyed the finer things in life. It pitied him the way humans went about their existence. Always having to be the best at everything, - better than the next person, never happy with what they had. It was why he found his company with Vicki so refreshing. She didn’t care about monitory wealth, preferring to earn each penny and account for it. Simple and easy - work hard and reap the rewards.
He caught himself after his momentary lapse into the past, swallowing hard against the tidal of emotions it had brought forth. Setting himself up at the bar, he asked for a Scotch neat and stood leaning on the polished marble, taking in the surroundings and people that moved around within his vision, the night was shaping up to be very interesting,
“You new here?”
The voice was soft and challenging, yet it wasn’t the voice that startled him, it was the image it presented,
“Not new to that line!”
The challenge had been set with that very straight forward answer. Eyes flashed behind glassed frames, the face held a cool appraisal as it tilted up towards his...
Blinking, Henry brought the face of the voice that had spoken into focus. Short dark hair cut in a bob style, bright round dark eyes held the question that had been spoken from her lips, painted red,
“No, I’ve been here a few times,” he replied and welcomed the drink the bartender put in front of him. The dark amber liquid lit a fire in his throat. Too bad he couldn’t actually savour it - the curse of being a Vampire with dead taste buds,
“Have you? That’s strange; I would have seen you before now? My name’s Irene, Irene Clark!”
Henry took the offered hand she had given him and smiled charmingly at her, as he stoked the alabaster skin of her wrist. She was dressed as most women did when they went out with the soul attention of grabbing a man’s attention. Short and revealing, the dress did nothing to hide the imagination, but covered up enough to want to see more, “Well Irene, it seems the fates have decided tonight is the night that we should finally meet...my name is Henry,”
Her smile was wide and full of expression, as she pouted her lips and took a sip of her own drink. Sliding an arm up the sleeve of his jacket, “Well Henry, it does seem as if the fates have most definitely looked down on our favour.”
He took in her open flirtation as a sign of things to come, as his eyes caught and held someone stepping onto the dance floor. Walking in slow deliberate movements, she scanned the surroundings and drank in the atmosphere.
A simple knee length black dress covered her slim frame, but there was no doubt in his mind at just how unlike she was to the women who flaunted themselves around her. Her strength and beauty bounced off the glass panelling in waves. Hair, blonde and glowing was pinned high above her head, with wisps that caught and floated around her face from the air conditioning. Beside her stood a dark haired woman with less make up than the last time he laid eyes on her. Looking excited, quirky even as she was once described, tugged on the bare arm of the one that had caught his attention, pointing towards the other end of the bar.
He watched as the blonde nodded and spoke, allowing the dark haired one to move off in the direction she had pointed to. Time for Henry had stood still, the noise no longer deafening from the loud music blaring, but had come to a complete halt. His eyes never left the woman who had captured his full attention. She had lost some weight, her skin seemed paler than normal, but the same steely determination was set in her eyes as she took in everything and everyone around her.
Four months since they had last seen each other, and to him it was as if it was yesterday, when she had left his apartment and walked out of his life,
“Are you listening to a word I’m saying?” the impatient voice brought him out of the fog that had surrounded him, as he blinked and refocused. Deciding tonight was not going to be a good night for the so called ‘fates’ that had brought he and Irene together,
“Excuse me Irene, I am so sorry that I have to do this, but a...friend of mine has just walked in and I need to see them. Please forgive me?” He raised her hand to his lips and bestowed on it a kiss, as he allowed her to drown in the inky pools of his eyes, ‘You have somewhere else to go’
She blinked once, then twice and shook her head as she slipped her hand from beneath Henry’s mouth, “I-I’m sorry ah, Henry is it? I’ve just remembered I’ve somewhere else to go...If you’ll excuse me?”
He nodded once, indicating he understood and allowed Irene to slip in between a gap in the crowd on the dance floor and out of sight.
The dress was too tight; the heels pinched her toes and caused all kinds of blood loss to her feet, never mind the cramps that were playing havoc with her calves. Coreen’s idea of investigating was to get dolled up and go to the new ‘yuppie’ bar in search of the last known person to have seen Eric. Great, just great! She felt more like a fish out of water in a place like this. Having to look pretty was not Vicki’s idea of a good time, never mind the attention she was drawing to herself standing just off the edge of the small square that was called a dance floor, waiting for Coreen to signal to the owner they were here. The strobe lights that dotted around the ceiling were not doing her eyes any good either, her focus was blurry at the best of times, never mind having to endure a headache from the lighting that lit up areas of the bodies pressed together she didn’t particularly want to see.
Something or someone caught her eye, but by the time she focused - it was gone. A familiar feeling prickled long her senses, old memories stirred deep inside her...nah, she was just imaging it, too much caffeine during an investigation was never good for ones imagination. Coreen came towards her smiling as she melded into the crowd like a pro, “Jono says he will meet us in the back in ten minutes, oh and he also said Irene is here, chatting to some young rich dude at the bar!”
Vicki squinted and scanned the people at the bar. They all looked basically the same. Young, wealthy, smarmy with too much aftershave, too much time and not enough going on in their lives. The kind of place Henry Fitzroy would feel at home in...
She balked at the idea of him standing there propped up against the bar, drinking his favourite tipple and sizing up just who he was going to eat tonight?
Swallowing became difficult as she cleared her throat and slipped her glasses further up her nose, “Okay so she was off schmoozing with some loaded guy, they pretty much look the same to me?” Coreen had to agree with her there, “Well, if it’s any consolation I have a description of her from Jono. He said she normally comes in early, hangs around and singles out the wealthy and young. Then they retire to a booth where they stay there until closing time.”
Vicki reigned in her disgust at the type of predator that liked to lure men into their lairs - again her thoughts went back to Elena and how she desperately wanted to be loved and wanted to stay young. Her own vanity was her own downfall...was Irene just the same?
“Well then, we have a busy night ahead of us, tracking the elusive Miss Clark and find out just what happened to Eric?”
They moved further into the crowd and away from Henry’s earshot, but not too far from where he could see them without being found out. She was a bright beacon amongst the dullest of lights that begged for attention. Her whole body glowed and moved with grace and strength that he found himself enraptured by her beauty once more. The months apart had done nothing to his feelings, other than make them return with a vengeance as he watched her steal a glance near where he stood hidden in the shadows, “did she feel his presence here?”
His clenched his jaw as the movement of her hips caught his attention as they swayed beneath the silk of the dress. The predatory glint in his eye forced the howling of the hunger deep inside him to rattle and make its presence known. He could not let her out of his sight, not even for a moment. She had come to this part of town for a reason? This was way out of her jurisdiction as she so loved to explain. To him that meant she had stumbled into someone else’s territory - namely his. She obviously did not come here to pick up someone, that simply was not Vicki Nelson’s style, and not heavy stench that was Mike Celluci, drifted across his nose, so the only conclusion was, she was here on work related business, investigative protocol...but why and who?
Keeping himself hidden, offered Henry a selective view of both Vicki and Coreen and they spoke to the bartender - Ricky, who pointed them in the direction of the ladies washroom, a place Henry knew he could not risk being seen in, just in case he would get caught in a compromising position and thrown out. The last thing he needed was to draw attention to himself - again.
What was it with her? His life had become respectively mundane and quiet, yet here he was again, battling with the inner demon inside him that begged to inhale her fragrance, feel the softness of her skin and drown in the beating of her heart as blood rushed through her veins. Shaking his head, reprimanding his thoughts and cursed his body for responding to them. His urgency to find a meal was upsetting his train of thought and he needed to act quickly for fear of losing Vicki through the crowd that closed in around she and Coreen as two men came up to have a more than casual exchange with them. Blood boiled in his belly and the rush of anger spread across his skin like a fever. Clenching and unclenching his fists, he strolled down the steps from the balcony and with lightening speed, knocked the glass that one of the tall, lanky upwardly mobile shakers had in his hand, all over his companion as they stood gawking at the two women in their company,
“JESUS Stan can you be a little careful!”
Stan the taller of the two blushed red and excused himself, as the beer he had been enjoying toppled over his friends light grey shirt. Darkening the silk and soaking his skin,
“AW sorry Errol, don’t know how that happened, here let me get that for you?” Stan grabbed a paper napkin from the bar and proceeded to try and rub at the shirt of his best friend, who was swatting his hand away while trying to appear cool in front of the two women they had begun chatting up, “Gerroff you great big clampit, I can do it myself!”
Coreen and Vicki exchanged looks and simply laughed. A momentary lapsed in the most sickening of chat up lines was welcome, if not eerily staged as Vicki could have sworn she caught a whiff of a well known cologne that only one person in her life had ever worn, and had hung in the air long after he left...
Shaking her head, reminding herself that she was on a job and that thinking about a certain creature of the night was not going to help her mood one bit,
“Soo, you were saying about Irene?”
Stan looked blankly at Vicki as he tried to clean up the mess of his expensive $400 shirt, “Irene?”
She could sense this was going to be a very long night. The music blared, drowning out any kind of sensible conversation, never mind having to conduct a light hearted investigation with Laurel and Hardy, “Irene Clark, you said she is in here most nights?”
Stan registered what the tall good looking blonde was talking about, ah Irene, “Oh yeah, so I was. She comes in her most nights hot to trot - you know what I’m saying? Always looking for a catch, always hanging around the flash and slinking off to the booth near the back. Pretty y’know, sort of oriental...not my type personally but I hear what she does is give men something to remember her by!”
Vicki took in the information Stan willingly provided, “Something to remember her by?” Dread sunk deep into the pit of her stomach, she didn’t like the feeling about this,
“Yeah, I hear she has all kinds of...mind blowing ways of making a man remember her...if you know what I’m saying?”Stan’s grin said it all as Vicki nodded slowly, not really wanting to go into the details of just what Irene Clark did as a token of her affection. A scream came from the direction of the washrooms, ending their conversation pretty quick, as people began rushing forward to see what the commotion was all about. A young red headed girl stood just at the doors of the ladies washrooms, her face pale and tight as she let out a scream and brought her hands to her face. Lying just to the right of the door, slumped over like a rag doll. His blank eyes staring up at the ceiling, with a deep grotesque wound across his chest and down his left hand side, lay Eric McMillan.
Coreen make a squeak beside Vicki, as they both looked down at their client’s dead son. Not exactly the ending Vicki anticipated for the night, but at least his body and indeed his whereabouts had now been found. Movement brought more people closer to see what was happening, someone yelled from across the room to dial 911, others either stood around and gawked or made gagging sounds and tore away to barf up. Mrs. McMillan was not going to be happy Vicki thought dryly, having to let her client know her son was found dead, was not a prospect she was looking forward to. No one deserved to die, especially someone as young as Eric. Lifting her cell phone out of the small purse that Coreen insisted she carry, she began to dial the woman in question’s number, when through the crowd he moved until he was standing directly in front of her. Dressed in black, a dark blue shirt dramatically showing off his pale skin, matching blue eyes and long hair that always hung tussled, as if he had ran his hands a thousand times through it. He drank her in as much as she gawked at him.
Four months, four months it had taken for Vicki to try and wipe him out of her memory - unsuccessfully that is. Yet here is was in the flesh, so to speak. Standing directly opposite her at a now crime scene...what were the odds?
That odd familiar tug in her solar plexus, the strain of the shortness in her breath as if she had ran too fast, came flooding back with just one look at him,
“H-He-nry?”
A smile slowly crept on his face, faint enough for her to catch before it went away,
“Victoria?”