Vito and Joe arrived at Lincoln Park just in time for a fleet of police vehicles to arrive, blocking off the entire area from visitors.
"What the hell is goin' on here?" Joe asked aloud. He and Vito looked to each other with dread before stepping from the car to investigate. Police tape had already been stretched from one end of the main entrance to the other.
The deputy stopped the two before they honed any closer to the barrier. "Gentlemen, what brings you here to the park today?"
"Just getting some air." Joe shrugged. "What's it to ya?"
"Looks like you'll have to do that someplace else," the deputy replied, "the park here was crawling with Chinese gangsters by the time we arrived. We've made ten arrests already."
"What does that have to do with us?" Vito furrowed his brow, hands planted firmly against his hips.
"These guys weren't the only ones here," the deputy continued in his explanation, "two suspects were seen engaging the gang members. One of them looked a little like you guys; you know, olive skin, dark hair…"
"What are you implying?" Joe defensively asked. "That all wops know each other?"
The deputy chuckled. "Of course not. Although, witnesses say that this wop you supposedly don't know was accompanied by some pretty-boy with a whip."
"Say what now?" Joe's eyebrows raised with interest. Vito flashed his friend a knowing look.
"Turns out, pretty-boy beat the shit out of all these gangsters with just his whip and bare hands." the deputy added. "I've never seen anything like it. If only I were there - that must have been a sight for sore eyes. Weird how there's only a few drops of blood at the scene."
"Again, we don't know anyone like that." Vito finished with clear certainty in his tone.
"Let's hope you don't." The deputy crossed his arms, his brow lowering. "Because we have many questions for them."
"Thanks, officer." Joe nodded. "Me and the mister will be on our way now. We'll give you a ring if we see any psychos running around."
"G'day, gentlemen ." the deputy emphasized, keeping his eyes suspiciously locked onto Vito and Joe as they walked off, but averted his attention back to the crime scene once they were greater than six feet away.
The pair tried not to race towards the vehicle to not draw further attention to themselves, even as their pace quickened. Once inside of their car, Joe expressed his resentment.
"God damn it!" he cursed. "I fuckin' told Leon to stay put at the apartment. Even Henry told us not to let him get involved. What the hell was he thinkin'!?"
"My guess is he had a hunch that something bad was going to happen in the park today," Vito began, "and tried to act heroic about it. We might have something to thank him for."
"I don't give a fuck," Joe scoffed, "we're gonna go back to my place to figure out where the hell Henry ran off to with that fuckin' Marilyn Monroe lookalike with a penis."
"The gangsters that cop was talking about," Vito wondered aloud, "do you think they're talking about the Triads?"
"I don't care about the Triads," Joe huffed, "and I especially don't care about that fruit of a deputy who accented all of his fucking words . Now drive before that cocksucker tries to ask us any more stupid questions."
It was a straight shot towards Joe's apartment from the previous destination. They had passed several convertibles during their drive, and Vito even attempted to make small talk about it.
"I don't understand the deal with convertibles these days," Vito chuckled, "I can't imagine driving exposed like that, my head being an open fucking target."
Joe didn't respond, but only squeezed the steering wheel a little harder, his knuckles whitening. Vito saw this and clamped his jaw, not wanting to push his friend closer to the edge of furor.
Once on the building's second floor, Joe turned the corner past the stairs and made a beeline to his unit. He jostled the doorknob, expecting it to be unlocked from Leon's exit.
His face creased in bewilderment as he noticed the door was still locked. "What the shit?" He pulled out his key and unlatched the door before entering, mumbling several curse words under his breath. The place looked about the same as before, no sign of a break-in, but there had to be evidence of a break-out .
Joe rushed into each room of the apartment, Vito doing the same. "He in the other bathroom?" Joe called out from the one by the front door.
"No sign of him here!" Vito answered, before traversing into the kitchen with purpose. With prior experience in the army, he was able to detect clues of a compromised environment. In no time, his eyes met the kitchen window, which was shut and locked, with the exception of the blinds being ajar. There were several objects moved from the sill, as though someone tried to clear a path for exit.
"Hey Joe," Vito called for his friend, "come take a look at this."
Joe wasted no time in rushing to Vito's side, immediately irate at what evidence was presented to him.
"He went out the fuckin' window!" Joe announced in his peak of exasperation.
"That's not the only thing that went out the fuckin' window." Vito jested, his index finger tapping his temple. He stopped when Joe glared at him and shoved off past the kitchen door. Without skipping a beat, the heavier set man grabbed the phone receiver and dialed out a series of different numbers on the rotary.
"Maybe he went back home," Joe trembled, dialing out to Henry's last known phone number. The line rang out several times, leaving Joe to believe his friend wasn't there. He slammed the receiver only to pick it up again and dial out a new number.
"Who you callin'?" Vito attempted to include himself in Joe's plans.
"I'm callin' around all the different places Henry could be." Joe answered. "Wherever Henry is, Leon's with him. Kill two stupid birds with one lousy stone."
Vito furrowed his brow. "You really don't think Henry's that stupid, do you?" His growing doubt towards the older man only strengthened with Joe's added negativity.
"Tangling with the Triads in broad daylight?" Joe started. "You have to be fuckin' retarded to do that. Don't even get me started on the oth- Oh, hey, Eddie. It's Joe." He stopped mid-sentence, shifting the conversation over to his capo once his voice arrived on the other end.
"Joe!" Eddie's chiming out could be heard by Vito, who was just inches beside Joe. "I'll be damned, what're you doin' callin' at this time of the day?"
"Have you seen Henry?" Joe started frantically. "The place we were s'posed to meet him is swamped with pigs. There's no sign of him anywhere!"
Eddie feigned knowledge of Henry's whereabouts before this call. He paused momentarily before giving his answer. "Hmm… no. I haven't seen or heard from him at all today. Did you call his residence?"
"Already tried that." Joe answered.
"What're you guys meeting up for anyway?" Eddie didn't want Joe to know that Carlo and the others had been made aware of their secret operation. "Having a secret hang-out session that ol' Eddie isn't invited to?"
"Somethin' like that," Joe shrugged. "Look, are you sure you didn't talk to him, or-?"
"For cryin' out loud, Joe," Eddie paused him, "Henry's a grown-ass man! Wherever he is, he's probably just laying low until the cops disappear from your guys' little rendezvous spot. Quit sweatin' it so much and go about the rest of your day."
"Fuck…" Joe sighed, rubbing his forehead, "okay, Eddie. Bye." He clicked the lever on the body of the phone, and proceeded to dial ferociously, evading Eddie's advice.
"I don't think this is gonna get us anywhere, Joe." Vito noticed. "Want me to grab you a beer?"
" Shh! " Joe hushed his friend, as the next person answered his call. "Hey, Frankie! Have you seen Henry anywhere?"
"Henry…" the gentleman stalled on the other line, "are you talking about Tomasino? That guy?"
"Yes, Tomasino ," Joe argued, "who the fuck else do you think I'm talking about?"
"I'm just pullin' your fuckin leg, bud," the recipient chuckled. "Take a joke, huh?"
"This is no time for fuckin' jokes," Joe spat, "please tell me he's at least in the VIP lounge."
"He's not here at all," Frankie answered with swiftness.
"Did you even check!?" Joe scoffed, his other hand gesturing about in an aggressive manner. "What good are you, man?"
"Joe, if Henry was here," Frankie disclosed, "I wouldn't be on the phone with you right now. You know how much that guy scares me, right? So, let me make it more clear to you; he. Is. Not. Here. Okay?"
"Are you fuckin' serious?" Joe called out, no longer directing his frustration towards the other man. "He's not even at the whorehouse!? He's ALWAYS at the whorehouse!"
Frankie seemingly detected Joe's anguish, and eased back on his humor. "Hey, Joe, I wish I could help you more; I just can't get caught up in whatever it is you guys have going on. I hope you understand."
"Whatever, thanks anyway, Frankie."
"Godbless." the other man expressed in irony.
Joe slammed the receiver down and facepalmed. "This is pissing me off." His voice began to tremble. Vito appeared at his side to place a cold beer in his other hand, to which Joe ferociously began guzzling down.
"Think harder, Joe." Vito suggested. "The officer said there was some blood at the scene. Not a lot, he said."
"What the fuck are you saying?" Joe almost spat out his beer. "Are you saying that Henry's dead!?"
"No, not dead you fuckin mook." Vito shook his head. "He might just be injured."
"Your point?" Joe began to sound more worried.
"Jesus H. Christ… Joe, where do guys like us go with an injury?"
Joe thought for a moment, and his eyes lit back up. Putting the beer down, he utilized the phone once more, dialing out a final number. This one took a little longer to ring, until the voice of a Greek man answered.
"El Greco's residence," the voice cheerfully sang out, "you split it, I splint it."
"You need to work on that intro," Joe retorted.
"Oh, Joe!" El Greco gasped. "What brings you to my landline today? Let me guess; another case of the scabies? I told you to stop reusing condoms. Flipping one inside out is not considered protected ."
"Is Henry there?" Joe asked, cutting off the doctor from his string of humorous comments.
El Greco paused. "Yes, actually. He's here, with a pretty bad cut on his wrist. It appears as though he severely nicked an artery. No worries - I stitched it up and put a clean bandage over the site."
Joe ran his fingers through his hair, sighing with relief. "Oh, thank God! How is he?"
"Henry's going to be just fine, okay?" the doctor continued with a lightness in his voice. "You don't need to worry about your friend. In fact, it's the other one you should be more concerned with."
"Yeah, we know." Joe bleakly replied. "We're gonna have some words for him, no doubt about it."
"Two of those words," El Greco paused, "should be thank you ."
"Why would I thank him!?" Joe grit his teeth. "He almost got our friend killed! He went behind my back and tried to fuck with the operation!"
"Quite the opposite actually," El Greco responded, "if it weren't for Leon, Henry would be a plate of chop suey by now."
"So you met him." Joe observed.
"Indeed, I met him." El Greco answered. "He's still here keeping Henry company, like a lapdog, not wanting to leave his side. Kind hearts like his are rare in this cold, cruel world. A soft heart and bright soul like his needs to be paid attention to. Nurtured, in fact. "
"Why are you telling me all this?" Joe inquired, trying not to let his forgiving nature show. "Why do you think I fuckin' care?"
"I don't expect it from you three wise-asses," El Greco continued, "but Leon is someone you should extend mercy to. Get what I'm saying?"
Joe decided to not argue with the doctor anymore about Leon's existence in their lives. "Can we come see Henry?" he finished bleakly.
"Of course." El Greco affirmed Joe's request. "I'm sure he'll be more than relieved to know his friends are concerned with his well being."
"Okay. Thanks." Joe cut the conversation short. "Bye now." After hanging up the phone, he faced Vito. "Henry's with El Greco, and Leon ." Joe stated the other man's name with contempt.
Vito shook his head. "You need to go easy on him, Joe. You're the most hot-headed, impulsive son of a bitch I've ever met! And now that you've met another equally hot-headed, impulsive son of a bitch, suddenly that sort of thing pisses you off?"
"You callin' me a fuckin' hypocrite?" Joe almost became combative with his friend.
"You know what?" Vito crossed his arms defiantly. "Yeah. I'm callin' you a fuckin' hypocrite."
Joe scoffed, ready to lay into him, but Vito continued the lecture. "Jesus, Joe. With all the shit we've gone through, and the people we've lost, I'm surprised you ain't just a little bit thankful that Leon stepped up to the plate when we couldn't be there."
His friend turned away, shaking his head and avoiding dialogue by pressing the bottle to his lips, tilting it back to dispense the rest of the foamy beverage. Vito saw through his verbal evasion, and stepped forward once again.
"I'd do the same for you, y'know." Vito sounded strained as he felt obligated to express sentiment. "So why don't we just extend an olive branch to the poor guy? Can't be that painful."
Joe replied with the silent gesture of retreating to the kitchen, only to return with a handful of beers. "I'm downing three more of these. You're driving."
"Hold still, and stop flinching."
El Greco carefully stitched the wound in Henry's arm shut, causing the mobster to wince and grunt. Leon sat beside him on the operating chair, grasping the man's shoulder as a means of comforting him.
"I fuckin' hate stitches…" Henry complained, small beads of sweat forming on his forehead. "...hated them ever since I was a kid." He tilted his head away, trying not to let his eyes fall on the service being done to his limb.
"You don't hate stitches." El Greco corrected him. "You hate having the stitches applied. Without these strong threads, you would continue to bleed out. Same thing could have happened with your leg had I not done what I needed to do.'
"Your leg?" Leon glanced towards Henry with curiosity, but the older man tried to avoid eye contact. "What happened to your leg?"
"I don't want to talk about that." Henry shook his head. "Not really a proud moment of mine."
El Greco smiled, glancing up at Leon over the round frame of his glasses. "Years back - right around the time we met Vito and Joe - Henry here was shot by his contract. Right in the center of the thigh, about five inches away from his, um, blessing ."
"Ouch." Leon cringed, grasping his own thigh sympathetically.
"More than ouch!" El Greco chuckled. "Henry was crying like a schoolgirl having her period. I almost wanted to offer him some homemade chocolate pie, until he threw up on my carpet."
"Sh-shut up!" Henry stammered, more embarrassed than frustrated. With his face almost turning the same shade as his wine-colored undershirt, he called out El Greco for his indiscretion. "He doesn't need to know that shit!"
"Aw, you're blushing." El Greco teased, finishing the last stitch and tying off the thread. "How adorable. Now, if I hadn't humiliated you, you would still have felt the needle gliding through your skin. So, you're welcome for the distraction."
Henry looked in surprise at the newly sutured wound on his arm, and nodded approvingly. "Thanks, El Greco. I should probably get out of here, huh?"
"Absolutely not," El Greco paused, "I need to wrap this. It'll keep the bacteria away. Sepsis is no joke, Henry."
Leon watched as the doctor unwound a fresh, white gauze, wrapping it snugly around Henry's forearm to conceal the results of his operation. His eyes shifted back to Henry, who was staring off into the distance while his arm was being bandaged.
"I know I'm not supposed to ask these kinds of questions," El Greco started, "but what happened?"
Leon glanced at Henry, wondering what he was about to say. The mobster glanced back with a tale of honesty in his eyes before giving El Greco the dirt.
"I was supposed to meet up with Vito and Joe in Lincoln Park to discuss some business." Henry began. "I was alone at first, or so I thought. This was when I saw Leon jump out of the bushes and attack one of the Triads. I guess they tailed me to the park, probably in an attempt to whack me."
"The Triads!" El Greco gasped. "Henry, those men are no joke. You could seriously have met your end there!"
"I… I know," Henry sighed. "I wasn't expecting them to show up, but then again, I wasn't expecting this one to show up either." He gestured his head towards Leon, who tried not to look too proud of his decision.
"What's your name again?" El Greco asked Leon, making direct eye contact with him.
The vampire hunter answered with courtesy, "It's Leon."
"Oh, yes. Leon." El Greco noted aloud, before setting the remaining roll of gauze back into his medical supply box. "Leon; promise me you'll look after this one here. He needs a guardian angel, as it seems chaos follows him wherever he goes."
Leon obliged. "I promise to take good care of him," he proclaimed. Henry sheepishly peered down at his lap, to which Leon placed a hand on his shoulder. Once gaining the mobster's attention once more, he gave an affirming smile to ease his uncertainty.
"I have to ask, though," El Greco added, "how did you take out all those bastard Triads? Magic?"
Leon reached beneath his jacket, and exposed the Vampire Killer. "This." he explained proudly.
"What is that?" El Greco tried to get a better look at the weapon in the younger man's hand. "Is that what I think it is?"
"It's a whip infused with-," he soon paused, not wanting to divulge in the whip's painful history, so he played it vaguely, "-real leather. Imported from a… small shop in a country... far away from here."
"Where could I get one?" El Greco beamed with curiosity.
"They... stopped making these." Leon fibbed. Henry glanced over and cocked an eyebrow, visibly perplexed by the weapon and Leon's attempt at hiding its origins.
El Greco nodded. "A whip… against several meat cleavers. Huh. Interesting. Henry, why didn't you withdraw your gun?"
Henry was trapped in the moment of feeling the need to explain why. "I don't really know." he answered bashfully. "I… should have done more. Otherwise I wouldn't be sitting here."
"No, no," El Greco placed his hand on Henry's shoulder. "You did good. You survived. I'm actually happy to see you in this chair; it tells me you were smart enough to get somewhere safe while you had the chance. Besides, if you had discharged your weapon, there would be a citywide manhunt for you."
Henry's eyes went from shame to understanding. "Thank you again, El Greco. I don't know what to say to you sometimes…"
"Don't say a word," El Greco stood from his stool and adjusted the bow tie just below his neck, "thank me by getting better."
Leon arose to meet him eye-to-eye, and extended his recognition. "I'm eternally grateful for all that you've done."
"Let's hope that eternal gratitude is extended your way as well." El Greco replied with heavy implication. "You deserve it."
The doctor turned to walk out of the room, then looked back at Leon and Henry. "You two stay as long as you need to. Not all night of course, but just enough to get back into the right headspace. That sounded like one hell of a battle."
Once he disappeared behind another door, the distant sound of a phone ringing could be heard. Leon cocked his head, wondering who may have been attempting to communicate with El Greco. He was snapped out of his haze of wonder by Henry, who abruptly started questioning him.
"Who are you?" Henry challenged, visibly bewildered by Leon's presence beside him.
Leon stared back at Henry, worried about him. "Whatever do you mean?" His worry turned to panic. "Are you having a bout of amnesia? Do I need to get El Greco?"
"No! Jesus," Henry sighed, placing his hand on his forehead, "what I mean is - just, help me wrap my head around this; you say you're a tourist from somewhere in Europe. You don't even tell me where in Europe. You're completely clueless about your nationality. And you also told me that this guy who ruined your life is here in Empire Bay plotting to kill everybody."
"Does my life not seem credible to you?" Leon's eyes narrowed with apprehension from Henry's catechizing.
The mobster sighed. "I didn't want to tell you this before, in case it would scare you away, but I know you're holding out on me. There's something going on that you're not letting on, and…"
"You think I'm a liar." Leon's heart sank into his stomach, which could be heard through his dropping voice.
"It's just…" Henry turned his gaze away, shifting from suspicion to disappointment, "...something seems off about your story, that's all."
Leon gulped, bracing himself for the moment of truth he'd been mustering up the courage to achieve. "That's because… it's not my story."
Henry's gaze returned to Leon, his expression still as he tried to process which emotion was best to expose in this very second. He parted his lips, the words jumbled around in his mind leaving him to the point of silence.
The vampire hunter took this opportunity and put his hands together. Dread started to form a pit in his stomach, but he trusted in himself to tell the deepest truth. "I'm from Europe, yes… or at least I think I am. It's unclear, as my parents perished in a fire while I was just out of infancy."
"Shit…" Henry's expression fell. "That must've been hard."
Leon shrugged. "I never knew them, so I'm not aware of what I've lost. Eventually, I was found by members of the clergy. Within the clergy, I was raised into nobility; I trained for the majority of my youth, bearing years worth of skill and strength. The stronger I became and the taller I grew, I was able to best my colleagues in battle. Only, it wasn't until I decided to hunt the night, that these skills came perfectly in handy."
The beginning of his explanation was cut short in that moment by a confused Henry. The mobster leaned forward, keeping his injury in mind. "Wait a minute - clergy ? Hunting the night ? Correct me if I'm out of line for asking this, but what the hell are you talking about?"
Leon sighed regretfully. "I knew you wouldn't understand… just forget I said anything. My truth isn't worth bearing openly if all it causes is confusion and fear."
"No," Henry projected with interest, "I want to understand. Please, tell me more. It sounds like you have a compelling life."
"You won't believe me." Leon appeared deeply saddened.
"Okay, how about this," Henry began, putting his own hand on the other's shoulder, "no matter how outlandish your story is about to become, I'll believe you. I promise."
"Why would you make such a bold commitment?" Leon asked with doubt in his tone, gaze still folded away from Henry.
"You saved my life," the wounded mobster obliged, "so it seems only fair that I listen to your story. No bells and whistles, no cutting corners, and no bullshit either; I want your real story."
Leon took another deep breath through his nose, his eyes meeting with Henry's. Even as he was afraid to break the man's mind with unbelievable knowledge, he gave in to his air of generosity.
"I'm from the late eleventh century," the hunter began, "my last location being Wallachia. It was during the hunt for my arch nemesis that I was suddenly pulled through a cosmic portal into this current era, precisely eight hundred-fifty seven years into the future."
"What were you doing before then," Henry probed, "with the clergy?"
"I was formerly a knight in the First Crusades," Leon proclaimed, "and admittedly, it was a lavish life. It felt like yesterday since I abandoned my fame and fortune to become a well-renowned vampire hunter. It's a more modest life, but it's something that needs to be done. Because if not me, then who?"
"There's gotta be another reason." Henry inquired. "Who in their right mind would just give up everything to be at the bottom again?"
"I did it for the sake of my late betrothed," Leon answered sternly, "whose soul resides within my whip. She was bitten by a vampire - one who captured a great radius of land beneath an Eternal Night. I saved her, but it was too late - the only way to save her and countless others from the same demise, was through ritualistic sacrifice. A binding ritual was performed by an old man - the same one who crafted this whip - which made it so her tainted soul intertwined with my weapon, allowing me to possess the power to destroy all related to the Lord of the Night."
"The Lord of the Night you're talking about," Henry started, "is he the same guy who bit your girl?"
"No," Leon sighed, "this was a different vampire. However, once he perished by my hand, his soul was torn from his body to be absorbed by a mortal man. No mortal should have been able to do this, however this man was in possession of a great stone, allowing him to obtain this vampire's immortality."
"And you didn't kill him either?" Henry furrowed his brow.
"In that initial moment of shock, I couldn't think to raise my whip against the man." Leon confessed. "I mean, I tried again recently. But that time it was too painful to imagine doing."
"Why?" The mobster's curiosity grew.
"The man had called himself my best friend at a point in time," Leon confessed. "We were fellow clergymen - I was the bravest knight, and he was the smartest tactician. Together, we were unstoppable. Which is why it was impossible to slay him the moment he appeared to me as a vampire."
Henry nodded in an understanding manner, watching Leon as he held his whip in his lap, thumbs tracing the woven material. The younger man sighed, "I know Sara is still with me, and she wouldn't want me to feel this way, but I still can't help but to be deeply hurt by what had happened. I'm angry with my nemesis while also saddened by the fact that he had called himself my best friend and ally for so long, only to stab me in the back while defiling his own humanity."
"So, you tried going after him again," Henry helped Leon progress along in his story, that way he wouldn't get lodged in one moment by his negative emotions, "and then what?"
"I found him in an abandoned chapel." Leon proceeded. "It took me over a month to find him once he disappeared. I had hurriedly put together an informational guide to finding and hunting down Dracula, which was pieced together with local knowledge and my own experiences. I would be damned if I wasn't prepared to fight him, so I channeled all of my time and energy into tracking him down before he was able to find me again. Only…"
"He sent you two forward in time." Henry completed his sentence. "Probably didn't see that one comin', huh?"
Leon shook his head. "I don't know how he did it but he was able to manipulate this strange relic in his possession. The last thing I remembered were these blinding lights that swallowed him and I whole. I still don't know what this thing is, and what he wanted to do with it. However, it is my destiny to find out, and bring an end to Dracula's reign of terror!"
There were several moments of silence, which caused Leon major discomfort. He looked to Henry, whose expression said it all.
"So, no." Leon finished. "I'm not a tourist. That's the disguise Vito and Joe placed upon me to assure my anonymity within this new civilization. I never wanted to lie to you, Henry. I only want to live my life in the light of honesty and goodness."
"Well, I appreciate you finally telling me the truth." Henry grinned. "It's a big thing to do, even when your friends are trying to put you up to the opposite. I do need to ask one more thing."
"Sure." Leon braced himself for another series of questions.
"Now," Henry put his fingertips together, "when you say Dracula, do you mean, Count Dracula , right?"
"I don't recall him going by the title of Count ," Leon shrugged, "but I wouldn't put it past him. Why do you ask?"
Henry's typically serious expression twisted into that of amusement. "You kiddin' me? There are films and plays about Count Dracula. One of the more popular ones being Nosferatu . In this day and age, he's a fictional, no more than a Halloween costume."
"Your version of Dracula," Leon spoke dimly, "holds no candle to the Dracula I'm referring to. This man, despite once being a mortal clergyman like myself, is the epitome of all evil in this world."
"Then answer this one," Henry proceeded to ask, "do vampires really hate garlic and sunlight? Or is that all just bullshit?"
Leon blinked. "Garlic is something I have not tried. I don't know where that part of the mythos came from, so I would assume it's a more recent discovery. Sunlight, however, doesn't inherently weaken vampires; the darkness of night makes them stronger. Their only known aversions - besides the Vampire Killer - are holy water, crosses, silver, rosary beads, and locked doors."
"What's the deal with locked doors?" Henry looked amused.
"Vampires cannot enter a domain without explicit permission." Leon smirked. "Therefore, if Dracula came to this very doorstep right now, he would be… oh what's the word Joe used… screwed ."
Henry laughed, tickled by Leon's usage of modern slang. This kind of reaction wasn't within his typical nature, but the younger man was capable of pulling a sliver of lightheartedness out of the deep pit Henry called his soul.
"If he came to El Greco's door," Henry started, "figuratively, what would you do?"
"Nothing, as he cannot enter." Leon answered.
"No, I mean," Henry chuckled, sounding exacerbated. "Let's say some wisecrack lets him in, not knowing who he is. Suddenly, he's in the living room, ready to sink his teeth into us. What would you use to fend him off?"
"My whip." Leon blankly replied. "I assure you, my whip works just fine."
"Okay, fine." Henry rolled his eyes. "You'd use your whip, but what do you suggest I use? Do I fling a medical tray at his head as a distraction?"
"You could take the garlic from the kitchen," Leon played along, "and start pelting him with it. Only causing a brief diversion as I cut him to pieces with the Vampire Killer."
"Oh come on, it can't be that easy1" Henry retorted. "He'd probably turn into a bat and start shitting all over the place."
"Ew, why!?" Leon gagged.
"Hey, if I were a vampire that could turn into a bat," Henry smirked, "I would do the same thing. Shitting on your enemies is a valid defense mechanism."
"Have you excreted on your enemies?" Leon scrunched his face, disgusted with Henry's suggestion.
"Fuck no!" Henry laughed plainly. "Are you kidding me? Although, I knew a guy who had beef with his neighbor across the hall. He pinched one off right in front of his doorstep. Housekeeping couldn't get the smell out of the hallway for a week."
"I think I want to end this topic now." Leon shook his head, trying to rid the imagery from his mind. Henry patted him on the back with camaraderie, but stopped for a moment, his hand still pressed firmly against Leon. This continued for an extended period of time.
Leon peered back at him with a relieved smile on his face. "Joe is probably furious with me right now."
"Oh yeah?" Henry asked, a knowing gleam in his eyes. "What's he got to be pissed at you for?"
"He told me to stay within the confines of his residence," Leon explained, "so that you three would have privacy during your stroll at Lincoln Park."
"I'm the one who gave the order for you to stay put, actually." Henry chuckled, seemingly embarrassed with his initial decision.
"I decided not to," Leon negated proudly, "as I knew something wrong was afoot. I saw the weapons these men brandished - El Greco's right. You could have met a terrible ending if I hadn't been there to protect you."
Henry's amusement gradually turned grim. "I feel like shit about this whole thing, and the fact you had to step in and protect me. I knew it was a death trap to go alone. I don't know why I did it… I thought Vito and Joe would get there on time as back-up. I guess I was wrong…"
"They're still good friends nonetheless," Leon comforted him. "There's no shame in needing help sometimes. That's what colleagues do - we stick together. I wish I'd asked for help before facing Dracula lone. Maybe I wouldn't be in this predicament."
Henry gave a weak chuckle, "Maybe if there's a next time, you won't have to be alone."
Leon smiled. "I appreciate that, Henry. Thank you."
Henry's look of affirmation turned grim once more. "Those men who came after me - the Triads - are some of the deadliest gangsters you will ever have the displeasure of meeting. I don't know why they came for me, but that's something I'll need to find out later, or rather… we ."
"You and I?" Leon queried, "How come?"
"It can't be avoided," Henry explained, "these men know your face. That means, not only will they be coming after me with more force and manpower, but they're coming for you now, too."
"I can handle them." Leon expressed confidence in the matter. "Have you ever traversed five levels of a vampire's castle, having to face monster after monster? The Triads are nothing compared to that."
Henry felt himself glowing with appreciation for the younger man. "I don't even wanna ask about the fire trick. That may be another can of worms to open."
"The Svarog Statue." Leon finished, "is a relic that allows holy flames to appear beneath one's feet. Very useful, but I don't utilize it all that often. It takes a lot of energy out of me to bring those flames to life." He pulled the carved, red relic from his pocket to show Henry.
"What other tricks do you have up your sleeve?" Henry's interest reignited. He tried to look around at Leon's pockets to see what else he had in store.
"There's so much more," Leon spoke excitedly, "and I'm going to show you all of it! Only, under one condition."
"Yeah?" Henry spoke with willingness.
"I need to remain at your residence." Leon concluded.
"Already sick of Joe's fuck-shack, huh?" Henry teased.
"I mostly feel like I get in the way," Leon shrugged.
"What made you want to crash there in the first place?" Henry displayed his confusion and contempt this time. "I gave you a perfectly clean place to stay, and you turned it down at first. Why's that?"
"Free beer and sandwiches." Leon answered. "No offense to you and your lovely home, but Joe's seemed like the appropriate place to indulge for a few evenings."
"Who's to say you can't indulge at my place?" Henry's lips curled into a sly grin, his voice developing into that distinct purr. "We can have all sorts of fun at my hotel. Whatever you wanna do, I'm game."
Leon could feel himself heat up in response, and chuckled sheepishly while bringing his hues back to the other man. At quick glance, Henry's eyes appeared as a plain brown, but the closer Leon inspected, the more detail he could make out in the older man's iris. Rings of gold and green burst from the center, forming rays of complementary colors around the pupils.
The two held this eye contact for an extended period of time, not knowing what to do with themselves as they unintentionally gawked into the other's soul. Simultaneously, they both jumped at the sound of loud banging at the front door.
Leon and Henry's gazes turned to one another, before the mobster blurted out, "Hurry, Leon! Get the garlic!"
Although he was joking, Leon hurriedly brandished his whip in preparation for the unknown guest. Henry saw the seriousness wash over this warrior of a man, and he placed his hands on his forearms.
"Relax! I was joking!" Henry laughed. "Do you really think he's gonna come all the way to Highbrook just to drink our blood?"
"He may have ulterior motives," Leon explained, his tone dimming, "Dracula's presence isn't something to take lightly."
"Oh. Well, sorry." Henry rubbed the back of his neck.
El Greco proceeded through the living room, his trail ending at the front door where the knocking had occurred. Upon opening it, Vito and Joe could be seen with intense worry smeared across their features.
"Oh, hello ladies!" El Greco cracked. "Are you here for your pap smears?"
His jest was met with silence, which prompted El Greco to let the men in without joking any further. Vito and Joe passed by him and came towards Henry, their faces lightening up with relief.
"Holy shit, Henry!" Joe gasped, wrapping his arms around his unsuspecting friend while ignoring Leon's presence in the process. "I thought you were a goner!"
"You all right, bud?" Vito asked, trying not to express too much excitement in front of his mentor, despite the fact Joe had thrown his body against the other's.
"I've been better." Henry sighed, returning Joe's hug to a lesser extent. "Eight stitches - that's one more stitch than the last injury."
"You mean the time you almost lost your balls?" Joe reminisced, releasing Henry from his affectionate grasp. "No bullshit - I'm glad you aren't dead meat. I was worried about ya!"
Leon stood off to the side to witness the exchange, trying not to let the others sense his rising anxiety. Vito glanced over at the vampire hunter, slipping him a proud grin. But just beneath this grin, was a look that said 'You did good, but it's not over yet.'
Moments later, Joe turned to face Leon, who had mentally prepared himself for the other man's wrath. There was a look of displeasure on his features for an instant, typically one that predated him yelling at his victims. Instead, Joe sighed heavily, and grabbed Leon by the shoulders before pulling him into a tight embrace.
"I'm still mad at you," Joe started, "but most of all, I appreciate the shit out of you. Thanks a million, Leon."
Leon felt a rush of happiness course through his system as he embraced Joe with the same level of passion. Smiling with content and eyes still fixed on Henry, he responded humbly to his friends' gratitude. "No worries. It's what I do."
"I don't mean to break up our little Tupperware party," El Greco appeared before the group, scoffing heavily with sarcasm, "but could you all hit the road please? The last thing I want is a full-on orgy right in the middle of my operating area."