Author's Note: Very, very, very sorry! *Grovels on ground* for lateness of update, but was busy moving from uni to home and getting settled in for the summer! But even though bags are still littered all over bedroom floor, I have decided that I cannot wait any longer to continue the story! So read on my friends...
Warning: Slight homosexual action, don't like, don't read.
Disclaimer: Not mine... yadda yadda yadda – is this really necessary??
"Vince? VINCE?"
Nope, it was no use. Howard slumped at the tiny table in the corner of the club and took a very tiny sip of his drink. He had no idea what it was, Vince had ordered it, but it was pink and fizzy – and obviously very, very alcoholic. Once you got used to it, it wasn't that bad, actually. He took another tentative sip. It reminded him of lemonade – adult's lemonade of course.
The club was heaving. The lights were strobing all the colours of the rainbow, and right in the middle of the dancefloor was Vince Noir, the light catching the blue-black sheen of his hair, and the sequins of his famous mirrorball suit. Vince had assured him as they were getting ready that it was famous, throughout the whole of Camden. Seeing him so clearly at home in these surroundings made Howard tug anxiously at the neck of the smart dark blue shirt that Vince had dressed him in. He hated new clothes, they never fit properly and he always felt like he was trying to be someone he wasn't in them. He'd have been far more at home here in his comfy old pullover and cordoroy trousers. But when he'd paraded in front of Vince that afternoon, the younger man had groaned and collapsed against the wall, hands over his eyes.
"What is that Howard?"
"It's my outfit for tonight. Do you like it? I thought it gave off a definite vibe, sir."
"Vibe? Too right. Geography teacher vibe, maybe. Do you really want people to start thinking you're my dad all over again?"
"Listen, Vince. This outfit has got me plenty of attention in the past, let me tell you."
"Right, course it has. Anyway, you're not supposed to be out for attention tonight, are you? You're supposed to be making it up to me," Howard winced, "and that means letting me dress you."
That had been the moment when everything had become a hazy blur for Howard, and before he knew it he was in the middle of the most happening club in Camden (apparently), in a dark blue shirt, dark blue jeans, black converses and a silver chain around his neck. Although the clothes definitely weren't what he'd usually wear, he had to admit that he was getting significantly more attention from the girls than he usually got. Most of the time he got filthy looks, or snickers whenever he so much as looked at a member of the opposite sex. As for trying to talk to them when they came into the shop, he could forget it. They looked at him for maybe a second before their eyes were inexorably drawn to Vince. From that moment on Howard was invisible. Anyway, it's not like he'd ever wanted attention from girls. He'd known most of his life he was gay – it was simply a matter of him trying to convince everyone around him that he wasn't, and that meant chasing after girls.
Perhaps he'd gone a little overboard in faking his interest in women, but he had been scared that if he didn't people would start realising that he really wanted attention from the one person he thought he would never have. And now look at him, he thought with wonder. He'd been officially 'going out' with Vince Noir for a grand total of three days. It still amazed him that Vince did actually want to be with him, did actually love him in fact. And he hadn't been at all shy about showing it, either.
Just at that minute Vince came bounding over from the dancefloor, picked up his drink, and took a long swig. While the rest of the dancers had bright red faces and sweaty hair stuck to their foreheads Vince just looked casually flushed. His hair was tousled but not sweaty and as he leant over Howard to put his drink back down a waft of some gorgeous scent surrounded the bigger man.
Howard opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything Vince had plopped himself down on his lap and shut his mouth with a long, lingering kiss. Howard had got a lot more confident with these types of situations in the past three days, and his arms wound around Vince's slender, sequinned waist, pulling him closer. As they broke apart Howard spotted several girls looking at him enviously. He grinned. It was so nice to be envied instead of being pitied.
"You having a good time, Howard?" Vince twisted one long finger into the soft curls at the back of Howard's neck, and his touch made Howard shudder with pleasure.
"Much better now you're back here," he muttered, tracing Vince's sharp jawline with his finger.
"Well, I thought we would go in a few minutes. It's much more fun at home." Howard groaned as Vince's fingers left his hair, and worked their way into the front of his jeans. He struggled to order his next sentence as Vince's nimble fingers worked their magic.
"Uhhhh, that sounds like a... a, um, very good idea... little man..." Vince grinned wickedly and his blue eyes lit up mischievously as his fingers sped up. Howard started squirming slightly. Abruptly Vince took his hand out of Howard's jeans and jumped off his lap.
"Okay, just gotta say bye to some people. See you outside in a minute, yeah?" And he was off, wending his way through the dancers. Howard gaped slightly, gasping for breath. Aware that there was a rather embarrassing tent situation in his lap he quickly reached for his leather satchel and placed it over his crotch, calming himself down before he dared to leave the table and head outside.
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Vince leaned against the wall outside the club, taking occasional drags on his cigarette while he waited for Howard. He grinned as he remembered the expression on his boyfriend's face when he'd jumped off his lap. It was a bit mean of him, he conceded, but that had been his final payback. Automatically his hand reached up and touched the almost-faded bruise on his jaw. That was in the past now. In a very weird way he felt almost turned on by thinking about Howard being all manly like that. He giggled to himself as he remembered going back to the flat from the Nabootique. The expression on Pete's face had been genius.
Pete had been sitting on the sofa, watching television, cradling a cup of coffee. He'd twisted round as Howard and Vince had clattered up the stairs. His grin had faded from his face as he saw Vince following behind Howard.
"Oh. Hi, Vince." There was no shame in his tone, his eyes remained cold and hard as he stared Vince. Well, two could play at that game, Vince had thought. He'd wrapped an arm around Howard's waist, and kissed him softly on the cheek, before staring back at Pete.
"Hi, Pete. Me and Howard just got together! Isn't it great?"
Pete hadn't replied, just stalked off to his room, throwing a filthy look at both of them. Vince had thought that would have been it, and Pete would have gone back to Leeds. Yet to his surprise, and Howard's, that hadn't happened. Pete had stayed in the flat, seemingly as deeply embedded there as a limpet on a rock.
What was even stranger was that Pete hadn't gone out of his way to make life unpleasant for them. In fact he'd been, if not friendly, then cordial with Vince. His relationship with Howard seemed to have gone back to normal. This was why, when Vince asked why Pete hadn't left yet, Howard always muttered that there was no need for him to go when they were all getting on so well together. This seemed incredibly naive to Vince, but quelled his suspicions. Naboo would have got back to him if he'd found anything suspect about Pete, and he hadn't.
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The truth was, Naboo had been incredibly busy with Shaman business, and hadn't had much of a chance to investigate his own suspicions about Pete. A few minutes after Vince and Howard had left their flat to go to the club, Naboo had settled down to watch 'Blood Brothers' with Bollo. For some peculiar reason it was one of Bollo's favourite films. About halfway through the film, a quarter of an hour or so before Vince plopped himself down on Howard's lap, Naboo sat bolt upright, a random thought occurring to him.
"Naboo allright?" Bollo questioned, pausing the movie. Naboo didn't answer, but jumped off the sofa and ran into his room. Bollo shrugged and continued watching the film. Naboo was often behaving strangely. Too much hookah, he decided.
In his room Naboo was flinging cardboard boxes frantically out of his wardrobe.
"Where is it, where is it?" he muttered desperately to himself, diving further into the wooden cupboard. He knew exactly what he was looking for, a tattered black notebook which Dennis had given him when he'd first joined the Shaman Council. In it was a Prophecy. Naboo had given it a cursory glance, and filed it safely away. But he'd suddenly been reminded of it, and now it was of the utmost importance that he find it.
Ten minutes later he had it in his hand. He flipped through it. Yes, there it was. The Prophecy that concerned the whole Shaman Council, what was clearly Howard and Vince and also... Pete. Naboo spent the next five minutes checking and double checking. Then he was sure. Frantic, Naboo grabbed his phone and started dialling Vince's number.
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Vince finished his cigarette and threw it to the ground, stubbing it out with one boot heel. Where was Howard? he wondered. It shouldn't have taken him this long to calm down. Just as he was contemplating going back into the club a car drew up by the kerb. It was black, and unremarkable, but Vince felt a frisson of fear crawl down his spine. Quickly he glanced up and down the road. Deserted. He started to move towards the door of the club, which was just around the corner.
Suddenly he found himself being slammed face-first into the club wall. He gasped in surprise, all the breath knocked out of his body. Strong arms were pinning him against the brick, while another pair of hands grabbed his wrists and dragged them behind his back. He groaned and tried to wriggle free, but whoever had hold of him slammed him against the wall again, effectively stopping him escaping. His wrists were being bound with what felt horribly like rope. Then he was hauled away from the wall, blindfolded with what might have been a bandana or a napkin and something horrible was stuffed into his mouth, gagging him. His captors dragged him to the open door of the car, flung him in, and the car screeched away from the pavement.
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"Shit, he's not answering." Bollo had never seen Naboo look this anxious before. "Come on Vince, you stupid twat!" Naboo shouted at his phone, before glancing at Bollo. "Bollo, get me Howard's mobile number. Quickly!"
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Howard was finding it difficult getting out of the club. Wherever he moved there was always a gaggle of people blocking his way. Vince would leave soon if he carried on at this rate. Finally he located the exit and made his way towards it, shouldering people out of the way. Bursting out into the cold night air he breathed in deeply. Oh yes, that was more like it. He glanced around. No Vince. Well, he'd probably be waiting around the corner or something. Howard walked briskly down the pavement, and around the brick wall. Still nothing. The whole street was empty. Howard's phone started ringing in his bag, and, still glancing up and down the street in confusion, he pulled it out and put it to his ear.
"Hello, Howard Moon speaking."
"Howard! Thank God. Listen, is Vince with you?"
"Naboo? Um, no, actually. He left the club a few minutes ago, but I'm outside now and I can't see him anywhere."
"Howard this is really important. Do not go back to your flat. Find Vince and bring him straight here. I don't want either of you anywhere near Pete."
"Pete? What's he got to do with anything?"
"I'll tell you when you get here..."
As Naboo rambled on about something or other, Howard's attention had been caught by something glistening on the wall. With a sick feeling of foreboding he walked over, and trailed his fingers over the brickwork. They came away red.
"Naboo. Um Naboo?"
"What is it, Howard?"
"There's blood on the wall."
"There's what?"
Howard's voice rose in pitch. "There is blood on the wall."
"Oh shit. Don't move Howard, I'll be right there."
Four minutes later Naboo came shooting around the corner of the street on his magic carpet, with Bollo sat behind him. He leaped off the carpet before it had come to a full stop and stood next to Howard. He closed his eyes. Howard stood still, knowing not to disturb him. His mind was in turmoil. Why was Naboo so frightened and anxious? Where was Vince? Why was there blood on the wall? And what did Pete have to do with this?
Naboo opened his eyes, and spoke four words that chilled Howard right to his very core.
"Vince has been taken."
Well, that's it for the moment. Next update tomorrow or the next day – I still have to finalise the plot a little!
Please Review, I love reading them. xxxx
