Chapter 21

"Why the HELL should I stay back? You were pretty damn 'glad to see me' back inside," she said, her fear and guilt making her anger flare. "What the fuck was up with that…?"

"THAT is why you need to keep your distance, please Vicki. Give me a few moments." The words emerged in a choked and tightly controlled voice, the tone one of self-loathing.

She watched him wrap his arms around his torso and saw his chin drop to his chest and she knew that he struggled with what he had referred to as his "urges."

"Take your few moments," she said, "but do you have to take them out in the fucking rain? I'm fucking freezing here." The sarcastic tone seems to draw him out a little she thought, wondering if she could keep it up when her heart was whispering to her "Was Mike right? Was Henry paying a price for his involvement with her?"

There was a trace of the Henry she knew, in the voice that responded.

"I see that your vocabulary, hasn't substantially improved, in my absence."

"No, no probably not…Henry, what is it? What's wrong?" She hazarded a step closer. He drew in a sharp breath, and then let is out in a long slow sigh.

"You're cold, and wet," he said. "We should go inside."

He did not rise matching his actions to his words, but as she turned away and headed towards the door she was aware that he was behind her, keeping a careful distance between them.

When she got to the bottom of the stairs she moved into the living room, judging correctly that he would not descend the steps while she stood at the bottom.

You have to look a pretty picture Nelson, she thought, soaked through like a drowned rat, hair plastered flat, covered in goose bumps and shivering like you have the palsy. She took off her water-flecked glasses and wiped uselessly at a drop that ran off the tip of her nose with a wet coat sleeve. Mind you, out of the romantic setting, the vampire wasn't faring much better.

Bedraggled and dripping water on his hardwood floor, Henry stood warily at the bottom of the stairs, blinking in the flood of light that Vicki's insecurities had created. His flesh was still satin smooth but he shivered with a fine tremor where he stood. The soaked cuffs of his pant legs dragged to the floor leaving him standing in a puddle and after a moment he grasp the waist, bunching it up in one hand, to keep them from riding indecently low on his hips.

"If you go through the door to the left of the kitchen there is a guest suite there. You should take a hot shower Vicki; I wouldn't want you to catch a chill. Everything you need should be there. I'll loan you some dry clothes." All this was said in a tone so devoid of innuendo and suggestion that Vicki found it hard to believe it was Henry speaking.

Still he stood waiting, head down at the bottom of the stairs, one long fingered had clasped tightly around the railing and the other, defending her modesty, tangled in wet flannel.

"Henry," she said softly. When he looked up his eyes were clear and cerulean in the pale face.

"Go ahead Vicki…I'll not trouble you."

***

The heat of the water helped, the warmth did something to draw back the human to the surface.

He raised his face from the spray and allowed the water to beat down against his chest and temporarily heat the surface of his skin. It would not last, but it was a momentary, if fleeting, comfort. His flesh would grow cooler and paler by degrees the longer he went without feeding.

When he felt calm enough, he turned off the water. He could still hear the sound of the shower running in the guest bath as he took a towel from the holder.

Why was she here? Why had she come, and why suddenly, did her presence in his territory make it so hard to rein in his instincts?

When he had seen her there so golden and glowing surrounded by a brilliance so bright that he could not bear to look, he had hoped at first she was a waking dream, a hallucination brought on by his hunger.

His instincts had risen full-blown when he had scented her, truly scented her in the close confines of the atrium. When he had known that she had willingly entered his territory, that she had submitted herself to him.

Even then he had held on, knowing that she did not know the ramifications of her actions.

She did not understand that in the terms of his instincts she was HIS. She did not understand the restraint she was asking of him, as she hovered tauntingly within his grasp.

Yet he had held the vampire back, even as she held out her arms to him, her sleeves drawing up to bare her wrists, the glowing substance of her life displayed pulsing below the surface.

He knew she didn't understand. He knew it…until she said his name.

In that moment, the vampire slipped from his grasp and then he no longer knew anything but instinct.

He had been so close, so close. In the steamy warmth of the bath his sex tightened again at the memory. Her body under his control, her very breath his to grant or withhold, her life his to taste or to take.

Why was she here, when she did not want him?

***

Her hair wrapped up in a towel and her skin reddened by the heat of the water, Vicki left the bathroom cloaked in a soft burgundy bath towel.

The guest room was calm and softly lit. True to his word Henry had left folded on the bed a pair of soft loose black sweatpants and a pale violet blue long sleeve T-shirt. There was no underwear and hers were soaked so she did without. She groaned softly at the soreness over her ribs, pulling the shirt over her head and down over her bare chest. There would be bruises by morning she was sure.

There was a soft pair of black fine woolen socks, which she pulled gratefully on to her feet, remembering the dark wooden floors of the living room. She towel dried her hair and used her fingers to comb it back away from her face.

Henry had been right, she had been thoroughly chilled and the heat of the shower had helped warm her physically. It had done nothing to melt the cold solid lump of what she feared might be guilt, that sat like a rock in her heart.

When she emerged from the guest room she held the wet clothing she had been wearing in a bundle in front of her body. Henry was bent over the coffee table lowering a tray, with a decanter of brandy and two snifters. He looked up, clothed in the same informal fashion, his hair fluffing into soft curls as it dried. That is so not fair, Vicki thought.

"There are a stacked washer and dryer in a closet in the kitchen," he said. "I'm sorry...I don't know how they function; Galena does the laundry while she is here."

Vicki headed for the kitchen, asking in an only half teasing voice over her shoulder, "Galena, huh! So you have a sweet young maiden to wait on you."

He did not answer until she returned to the living room, the sound of the drier tumbling, muffled by the closet doors.

"Actually it's more like I have a Russian Babushka to wait on me," he said. "Though she did kiss me on the cheek the last time she was here."

"Hrrmmppff," Vicky said as she lowered herself to the chair across from Henry, drawing up her legs beneath her.

She could see that he had opened the protective shutters on the windows so now she could see the night sky and the reflected color of the lights below in the water that ran down the glass.

He had turned off some of the lights and the room had a warm lamp lit glow, not entirely sufficient for Vicki's comfort. She supposed that it was brightly lit from Henry's viewpoint though; she had forgotten how sensitive he was to artificial light.

Henry had poured some of the golden liquid into the snifter and moved to set it on the table in front of Vicki. Vicki picked up the glass and sniffed experimentally. "I don't drink much brandy." She said.

"You should consider it as medicinal, to ward off a chill," Henry replied, a hint of his humor coloring his voice, though his body remained tense. He sat back on the sofa, holding his own glass. "You need to hold the bowl of the glass between your palms," he said, illustrating by cradling his own snifter. "To warm the brandy closer to body temperature," he continued, "that way the flavor is enhanced."

"So I guess you drink yours cold then," Vicki quipped and then could have bitten her tongue at the way his face fell.

"Henry, I…" she began.

His eyes met hers as he said, "Years ago, I had a dear friend, Ann. Whenever I would visit with her and her husband William we had a long tradition of enjoying a brandy. Ann always warmed my glass just so for me. He lifted his cradled glass by way of illustration.

"Do you still see them?" Vicki asked while mimicking his actions and swirling the golden liquid slowly around the snifter.

Henry shook his head. "I lost them both in a plane crash in Montreal, in eighty-eight. I miss them," he said simply. "Every time I pour a brandy, I think of them."

"So they knew that you…" she began.

"That I am Vampire…yes," Henry finished.

Vicki was silent for a moment and then, reached across to hand Henry her snifter. His eyes met hers as she lifted his glass out of his grasp. When she tapped them together, she said. "Here's to new traditions." Then she watched as he sipped the warm liquid, before bringing his cool glass to her lips.

Breaking eye contact, she rose and crossed the room to the windows. "Nice place you've got here…" she said, internally cursing her conversational ineptness.

Henry spoke from the sofa, "Why are you here Vicki?"

"Hmmm?" she inquired, trying to buy herself a little time.

"You heard me Vicki, why are you here in Vancouver, here, in my territory?"

Vicki knew in her heart the question he was asking, and she also knew the answer. But she could not admit it, even to herself; if she did, she feared he would somehow, KNOW. He had brought her to the brink, and she back peddled away from the edge.

"I have a case," she said slowly, testing the waters. "A case with a supernatural element…"

He had been watching her keenly; his blue gaze unblinking and she wondered suddenly, what do his "extra" senses tell him? Does my heartbeat give me away, my scent, my pheromones…my fear? The way he tilts his head a little to the side and his eyes lose focus just for a second, like he is listening to something I can't hear. What does he know?

He leaned back in his seat. A slight frown played over his features. He just let me off the hook, at least for now. She thought, relieved.

"A case…" there was a disbelieving pause. "Two cases which bring both you and the Constable, coincidentally, into my territory at the same time?"

"I told you Henry, I don't need your permission to come to Vancouver," she said irritably.

"We've established that Victoria. You said there is a supernatural element? I am sure that is making the good detective, ecstatic."

"Actually Mike doesn't know," she said a little sulkily. "When I called him to tell him, we got in an argument before I had a chance to enlighten him. He spent a little while telling me what a fucked up person I am, and then he hung up on me."

The aristocratic brow arched upward and Henry smiled slightly as he drawled. "You and Celluci got in a fight? I'm shocked! Let me guess, you umm, called him a liar?"

"Well, sort of…" she replied uncomfortably, remembering only too well the last e-mail correspondence she had had with Henry.

Henry allowed the rest of the brandy to slip warm down his throat. He needed to feed, but he needed this more.

He set the glass on the tabletop. "Perhaps you had better start at the beginning."

***

Henry watched Vicki as she paced back and forth in front of the window.

"So you see I just had this feeling that Linda was keeping something from me," she said.

He watched as she raised her arms to tie back the honey colored hair that had dried while she told her story. The soft knit of her shirt rode up and then as she lowered her arms, was trapped under the weighted curve of her breasts, smoothly molded and outlining that full round shape…

Henry dragged his attention back to her words; if she had noticed his lapse, she gave no sign.

"That was when she told the story of how she found out her husband was a seal. How she watched him change form in the moonlight, how she stole his skin to imprison him," Vicki said, shaking her head.

"Selchie," Henry said, an inward focused expression on his face.

"Yes, that was the name she used, Selchie" Vicki said. "Do you know about them?"

"I have had some dealings with the Selchies in the past, but that was long ago. It did not occur to me that they may be here in my territory." Henry said.

"Do I want to know how long ago?" Vicki asked.

"Probably not," Henry shook his head slightly then continued, "And you believed this Linda person when she said her husband was a Selchie?"

"You're not the only one who knows how to tell if someone is lying, Hank."

Henry inclined his head gracefully, choosing discretion.

"Even if I hadn't believed her though, I saw Orion Galen while I was on a run in the park this afternoon. He was at the Aquarium with a group of men at the marine mammal rescue there. When I called out to him, he took off running across the parking lot to Third Beach."

Vicki paused and then went on, "I chased him but he was…faster. By the time I got to the beach he was in the water up to his thighs. I watched him transform. He just kind of blurred around the edges and…"

"And then slipped away into the water," Henry finished her thought, his eyes deep blue with memory.

"Yes, one minute a man and the next minute a seal," Vicki said. "So do you think you could help?"

"Your clothes should be dry by now, Victoria," he said standing. "Get dressed. I think we should drive over to the park. I want to look around."

***

The parking lot of the aquarium was deserted at almost midnight, when Henry guided his Jag smoothly into the spot closest to the Marine Rescue buildings.

The rain had eased off and there were small breaks in the heavy clouds overhead where the clear black depth of the midnight sky showed through. The wet surface of the asphalt of the lot was bright in the reflected light of the lampposts of the parking area.

The ride to the Aquarium had been short and conducted mostly in silence. Vicki could see that Henry's body thrummed with a contained tension which she had not seen in him before.

As she watched the wet Vancouver nightscape stream past outside the windshield of the car, Mike's words came back to haunt her.

"What the fuck makes you think, that you can go around screwing with everyone's heads and hearts and that there won't EVER be any price to pay, Huh? Or maybe it doesn't matter to you, as long as you're not the one who pays that price." Again she wondered what price had Henry paid for his involvement with her, and the consideration of her culpability tore at her carefully constructed defenses. She shook the thought away.

Once they had parked, Henry turned in his seat and said, "You can stay in the car if you wish; I just need a chance to..."

"Like hell, I'm going to sit in the car and wait," Vicki said as she popped her seat belt and opened the door.

"Some things never change," Henry said under his breath.

"What was that?" Vicki asked, though she had heard full well.

"I said...some things never change," Henry repeated louder.

"You should know, Your Grace," was her response.

There were no lights on in the Aquarium complex proper, but there was a single window lit in one of the "rescue" buildings. Henry held up a hand to Vicki, silently telling her to wait as he edged up closer to the building. He appeared to listen for a second or two and then held up three fingers.

Shit, Vicki thought, three inside. Then she saw Henry slip around the corner of the building and out of sight. I hate being left behind to wait, she thought, as she crept forward to the corner of the building and peered across the moonlit yard to the pool.