Courage: Chapter 6
Whoo hoo! Finally an update on this one. I had to have a battle of wills with my muse, but I won and got this chapter to turn out like I wanted. Enjoy :)
* I do not own the BT series characters. They belong to a much-more talented individual. I am however, more than happy to take credit for characters/scenarios not featured in the books or television series. Not making any money. No copyright infringement intended*
Ordinarily Henry would have thoroughly enjoyed having the opportunity to talk to Vicki without the Detective or anyone else intruding on them, but as he sat there slowly sipping his water while Vicki ignored his attempts at conversation, he rethought that assertion. Vicki’s beer remained untouched on the bar while she eavesdropped on Dex and his friends with a level of skill and inconspicuousness that had been carefully honed during her years at Metro. He watched the beads of moisture forming on the beer bottle slowly ooze downward in the increasing warmth of the club and sighed wearily.
The weight of his nearly-five century existence weighed heavily on him suddenly, and he was keenly aware of just how much of an outsider he was, not only as an immortal in a sea of humanity, but from Vicki as well. No matter how much he teased and charmed her, her work and the obligation she felt towards her clients would always come first. He really couldn’t begrudge her on that point: after all, she was fiercely loyal and independent, strong-willed and unlike any woman he had ever met-and most likely ever would-and to do so would be a tremendous disservice to her.
He honestly could never forgive himself if he ever forced her to become less than what she really was, no matter how badly he wanted her to love him in return.
A loud burst of laughter erupted suddenly from the band members and beer bottles and shot glasses clinked loudly together. One of them stood up to make an impromptu toast, and he slurred and wavered on his feet while his friends cheered him on. Vicki glanced casually in their direction and cast a flirty smile at the man giving the toast. He caught her gaze and grinned slyly, raising his glass in salute, but then his eyes flicked towards Henry and he visibly paled. He hastily turned back to his buddies and his drink and looked fairly shaken up.
Vicki turned to face Henry who tried to look as innocent as possible, but his eyes twinkled mischievously.
She leaned towards him and whispered. “Henry, play nice. I need them to stay here so I can spy on them, and you getting all possessive is not helping.”
“I’m just doing my job.” He smiled against her ear and she shivered involuntarily. “Your words say one thing but your body says another. You’re flattered. Admit it.”
She tried to appear indignant. “I’m serious, Henry.” The smile on his face widened. “So am I.” They sat there eye-to-eye, bodies pressed so closely together that barely a whisper could pass between them and she suddenly had a perfect moment of understanding. Sitting there seeing herself reflected in his eyes-those ageless and oddly-fragile eyes-she saw how much he cared for her.
Vicki would never admit it aloud to anyone, but lately she was plagued by insecurity and a pervasive sense of inevitability; the prospect of one day going blind and having to completely depend upon another human being angered her beyond words, but it frightened her even more. She just couldn’t conceive of asking anyone to shoulder such a burden, but when she looked at Henry and saw the way he looked at her, she knew that he would take that responsibility-she need only ask it of him.
She sighed and bowed her head. This wasn’t the time or place to be thinking of such things, and she needed to focus all her attention solely on the case at hand. It wasn’t the promise of a substantial sum of money that initially prompted her to take the case, although Mr. Langtry’s offer had been more than generous. She took it because it was one more way for her to prove that despite her ailing vision, she was still capable of taking care of herself and didn’t need anyone to hold her hand.
When she looked up at Henry again, he was still gazing at her with that curious mixture of hopeless adoration that always caused her heart to flutter, and she found herself smiling tenderly at him. She realized in that moment that if things progressed past the point of salvaging her vision and livelihood that she could count on Henry to always be there for her-she wanted him to be there more than she had ever dared admit to herself before now.
Something flickered in Henry’s eyes in that instant, almost as if he had heard her thoughts spoken aloud. He leaned forward, right hand extended as if to cup her face. Vicki found herself moving towards him as well and her heart sped up in anticipation. The tips of his long, sculpted fingers gently brushed her hair aside, and he brought his face against hers until their lips were almost touching.
“Can I get you another round?”
And just like that the moment broke. Cursing under their breath, Henry and Vicki turned towards the intrusion and saw the bartender waiting impatiently for them to answer him. “No, thanks. We’re fine,” they ground out in unison between clenched teeth. Swiveling in his stool, Henry turned back towards Vicki and opened his mouth to speak, but she had resumed eavesdropping on Dex and his band mates.
Judging by the set of her shoulders and the almost-thunderous roar of her pulse over the din of the club, he could tell that she was slightly embarrassed by what had almost transpired, but his other senses informed him that she wanted him. If there was anything that Vicki Nelson excelled at, it was keeping an iron-grip on her control, and he had never known her to lose it before. What nearly happened moments ago was no fluke, but was intentional from both ends. He smiled. Perhaps the evening wasn’t a total wash after all, and his desire to fling the bartender against the wall for interrupting them slowly vanished.
The band members were getting increasingly rowdy and their conversations more slurred and incoherent, and to Henry, appeared to have no significance regarding the particulars of the case. The empty seats at the bar and the small scattering of tables were quickly filling up, and it wasn’t long before there was a crowd of people jockeying for position and the bartender’s attention. A couple of rough-looking men dressed in standard biker-wear loomed over them and tried to appear intimidating. Apparently they wanted their seats.
The bigger of the two peered down at Vicki and Henry, eyes flicking from one to the other and their drinks on the bar, which remained untouched. He sneered and even in the dim light of the club, the tobacco stains on his teeth stood out. “If you ain’t drinkin’, leave the fuckin’ bar. There’s plenty of us who are thirsty.”
They ignored the man; Vicki because she didn’t want to lose her vantage point, and Henry because while he was confident that he could take him, he was hesitant to do it in a bar packed full of witnesses. Apparently the man didn’t like being ignored, because he extended one beefy hand and shook Vicki’s shoulder roughly. “Hey, sweetheart, you hard of hearing or something? I just told you and lover-boy to get lost, so get with it.” Henry bristled and felt a growl rise in his throat, but Vicki pivoted on her stool and stared up at the man passively, then slowly got to her feet, hands balled into fists at her side.
Conversation began to slowly dwindle away as the other people seated at the bar sensed a confrontation brewing, and a few began to shift uncomfortably in their seats. Just as Vicki opened her mouth to fire back a witty and sarcastic comeback, one of the band members stood up, beer in hand. “Hey, no need for violence, man.” He took a swig of his beer and nearly fell over from the effort. “There’s plenty of room over here-me and my buddies were just leaving.” He winked at Vicki and gripped the edge of the counter for balance, then joined the rest of his friends as they stood up and shuffled towards the exit.
Vicki turned and smiled back at the man and his friend. “After you, gentlemen.” They blinked, puzzled. Once they were seated, Vicki grabbed Henry’s arm and steered him towards the exit.
“Let’s find Coreen and get out of here before we lose them.”
The crowd seemed to have gotten thicker since they had arrived, and there was a loud commotion going on over by the exit. Men in t-shirts with Security written on them were shouting against the roar of the crowd and motioning people to step back. Vicki craned her neck to see over the people jockeying for position and saw a group of men dressed in black leather carrying instruments fighting to get through the crowd. Occasionally they paused to shake hands and sign autographs, and the crowd surged and swelled against them. From her vantage point, Vicki spied one man who fought his way through the crowd with something akin to desperation. The intensity of his gaze and the way he seemed to be tracking the band through the crowd raised alarm bells in Vicki’s mind, and she squeezed Henry’s hand and motioned towards him.
Henry turned in the direction that she had indicated but sensed nothing unusual about the man. He was dressed rather conservatively for the club scene-starched shirt and slacks with a matching belt-but nothing that screamed obsessed or violent fan. Overall, the man was unremarkable in appearance, and more than a few leather and vinyl clad patrons glared venomously at him as he pushed and shoved his way through their ranks.
He reached the lip of the stage just as the band began to ascend the short flight of stairs to begin setting up and extended his hand towards them. The last man to climb the stairs reached down and shook the man’s hand and appeared to be thanking him for his support. After a few moments, they parted ways and Henry felt a chill arc its way down his spine. His grip on Vicki’s hand tightened almost painfully, and she winced and attempted to draw away.
“Henry, what’s wrong?”
He let go but kept his gaze fixed on the man who stood off to the side with a strange smile on his face. Vicki shifted beside him.
“Henry, if we don’t leave now we’ll lose them. What…?”
“Don’t ask me how I know this, but I think something is about to happen.” Henry’s instinct told him that the man in question was involved in some way with this case, though he couldn’t for the life of him say how exactly. He just knew that something had passed between the two men that whispered of magic. As they watched, the band scurried around to set up and within a few minutes, they were ready to begin their set. The man who had shaken hands with the mysterious stranger strode confidently up to the microphone and greeted the crowd, who roared and stomped their feet in anticipation.
He motioned towards the drummer seated off to the side, and a steady beat began that was soon accompanied by the other musicians. The man at the microphone swayed and began to shake his head in time to the music, tousling his hair and snapping his fingers at his sides. When his cue came up, he gripped the microphone in both hands and leaned forward with his eyes closed and then opened his mouth.
Nothing.
The music slowly tapered off and the lead singer, looking shaken, motioned for them to start the set again. He mumbled a hasty apology and prepared for his cue again, but the results were the same. Angry mutterings and scattered boos erupted from the crowd, and within seconds the projectiles started up.
Henry sensed Vicki start beside him and immediately began scanning the crowd for the mysterious stranger, but he was nowhere to be found.
“That’s just great,” Vicki muttered turning around and squinting at the crowd. “We found our haystack, but where the hell’s the needle?”
TBC