Chapter 12 (No Title as yet)

Victoria Nelson was fuming. She was livid and someone was going to pay. She sat with her hands spread flat on her desk top, her eyes narrowed as she reread the e-mail that marched across her screen.

She had been uncomfortable with breaking the news to Henry that she was going to be in Vancouver. When she had finally opened her e-mail she had found his message from the previous night. It made her angry, and she did angry so much better than she did uncomfortable.

Her fingers moved to the keys and she typed in a hurried line, then reread it and back spaced to delete the words. Her eyes travelled back down the screen.

He had sent this message at 3:00 AM Vancouver time, probably right after he had 'dined' she thought. That was 6:00AM for her. She had still been in bed, a prisoner to her dreams. Dreams of Henry's hands and lips on…

That's what she got for not checking her e-mail all day! Now it was after 11:00PM and she knew that he would be rising soon. Though it was long ago dark in Toronto, she pictured the sun low on its crimson course to drown itself in the waters of the Pacific.

She reread his message again.

Victoria,

One might assume that Detective Celluci has already apprised you of our meeting yesterday evening. I want to assure you that our encounter was entirely by chance. I happened across him in a local restaurant while I was 'prowling' the streets.

I must admit that contrary to your request, I am afraid that we did have some words.

Despite what Celluci may have told you, please allow me to allay your fears in regards to the Detective's health. To paraphrase the children's tale, I didn't harm a hair on his chinney-chin-chin…

H

She sat back in her seat. Jeez! Henry let it go already…I'll never use the word 'prowling' again, she thought. I just asked him one little favor, just exhibit some self control and leave Mike alone to do his job, but could he do that? No. Why should, what a lowly little human wants matter to the Vampire Prince of Vancouver? Damn that Mike, he had already seen Henry when I talked to him yesterday night. He lied to me. And the Little Prince is only admitting to the meeting because he thinks that Celluci ratted him out!

Henry:

Don't take that high and mighty tone with me. Do you expect me to believe that in a city the size of Vancouver, that you "happened across" Mike in a restaurant by chance? Let's just lay aside the question of what the hell you were doing in a restaurant in the first place; given your dietary restrictions I would have thought a back alley on Hastings more likely…

You promised you wouldn't bother him…

V

She hit send.

She was going to give Celluci a piece of her mind when she talked to him. What the hell was up with him anyway? How totally out of character that he hadn't taken the chance to let her know that Henry had contacted him. Usually he was the first in line to try to cause trouble for Henry.

The "new mail" message appeared in the corner of her screen. She read the single line response from Henry.

Victoria:

Are you calling me a LIAR?

H

Vicki thought to herself that, apparently the sun had set in Vancouver because the vampire was awake and…angry was he? She hit reply.

You tell me…Hank. Did you or did you not go out searching for Celluci and approach him after you promised that you would not?

Did you or did you not harm him or try to influence him in any way?

V

***

The "new mail" message appeared in the corner of his screen.

The vampire was furious; he stood in his living room-studio in just his boxers. The last lingering color of the drowned sun was still a deep red stain in the sky. In his anger and frustration his pale chest rose and fell at almost a human rate. He felt rumpled and worn even though he had risen but a few minutes before. How did she reach out across the miles with such a true aim, he wondered? His ebony gaze dropped to her reply.

You tell me…Hank. Did you or did you not go out searching for Celluci and approach him after you promised that you would not?

Did you or did you not harm him or try to influence him in any way?

V

His eyes narrowed dangerously and he tasted his own blood where his fangs had run out and nicked his lower lip, as he read her words. He brought his knuckle to his chin and wiped at the trickle of crimson there. Then he absently brought the knuckle back to his mouth to suck the blood away. His lip had healed unnoticed.

What had the human told her about their meeting? He knew that Celluci would have called her. He could just picture him crowing about Henry's lack of control in the restaurant. Telling her how Mike had had to save the poor vampire from his own failings.

Henry's jaw clenched and he tightened his grip on the bottle of spring water he held forgotten in his hand. The bottle ruptured under the pressure of his fingers and his body and face were drenched with the resulting explosion of cool liquid.

"God's eyes!" he swore. He stood for a moment, the water dribbling down his skin to pool on his dark hardwood floor.

What are you doing Fitzroy? He asked himself, after a blank moment, what are you doing? Call her and explain to her what happened.

And then…Henry only wanted to hear her voice. She wasn't his. He knew that. He had no claim on her. No claim on her heart.

The flickering letters on the screen couldn't bring her to him.

Her voice, if I could only hear her voice, then I could quiet the part of me that is raging.

If I could hear her heart beat, I could control the ravening hunger for her that threatens to unman me.

He stepped carefully over the spreading puddle on the floor and crossed through to his bedroom. The sounds of the city and the humans below drifted to his ears, borne on the everlasting breath of the sea. He picked up his cell and with his thumb pressed the button to dial her number. Then he lay back on the bed and raised his other arm up over his eyes as he held the phone to his ear. The fragrance of the orchids surrounded him as her phone began to ring.

****

The strains of "Reel de Joie" were revolving around and around through his head as Celluci made his rapid progress to the stern of the ferry. The wind was behind him now, buffeting against his broad back and setting his blond waves dancing about his face.

The sun sparkled and danced off the deep blue green of the water and he could glimpse far off from the stern the low indistinct bulk of the Gulf Islands. There was a small group of people at the stern railing pointing and laughing and waving excitedly to other passengers inside the windowed lounge behind him. Mike made his way to the railing and looked down to the water several stories below.

The water was white and roiling, disturbed behind the ferry from her forward motion. The folded and frothy wake of the ferry stretched back as far as his eyes could see. Below he could see just back from the stern the seals slipping and sliding through the water in pursuit of the ship. There were perhaps eight or ten seals in the group that shadowed the vessel. They dove and surfaced and chased each other joyously through the water.

The ferry was drawing closer to Vancouver Island now and the shores of the smaller out-islands rose off either side of the ferry. Darkly and densely treed, shadows lingered under the forest's eaves, but the rock outcroppings and the sand shingles were brilliantly lit by the warm noonday sun.

Behind him Mike heard the soft strains of a fiddle. He turned to see the platinum haired woman, alone this time, sitting and coaxing a low and quiet tune from her instrument. He turned back to the railing and the view of the islands as behind him the woman began to sing in a language he thought might be Gaelic.

His mind slowly let go of the need to understand the unfamiliar words. He closed his eyes and raised his face to the warmth of the sun as the wind whipped briskly about him. He could hear the barking and whistling of the seals from below and the haunting melody of the song behind. His mind slowly emptied of the ugly details of the crimes that brought him to this place and filled instead with a sense of peace and images of deep green water and sparkling sun, rocky ledges and schools of fish and smooth passage as if in flight through the water in pursuit, the warmth of the rough rocks and the ungainly roll of a body designed for water, hauled out in the warm sun, on the beach…

The ferry reversed her engines loudly, shuddering as she began to slow in her approach to the dock.

Broken from his daydream, Mike blinked as he opened his eyes to the last strains of the woman's song. When he looked at her she smiled shyly at him. The world of other passengers and his everyday life re-established itself as he was released from the enchantment of her spell.

The announcement crackled on the air and the last bit of magic shredded on the breeze.

"We are nearing Swartz Bay terminal, would all drivers return to the vehicle deck in preparation for offloading."

***

When he had trouped down the stairs, his blond head rising above most of the crowd and his long legs adopting a shorted gait more in keeping with the rest of the passengers, he found his car. After stowing his attaché case in the trunk, Mike opted to stand by the opening at the front of the car deck watching the ferry close in on the dock. The water was shallower here but still the dark trees marched down to the shore, with the exception of the acres occupied with the modern structures and the smooth asphalt of the terminal buildings.

To one side there was a large crowd of people waiting to disembark the ferry. Mike remembered hearing the announcement warning the "foot passengers," which he assumed were people crossing without their vehicles, that they would be disembarking from the upper vehicle deck.

Mike noted that two or three of the group of musicians he had seen earlier were standing in the waiting crowd. His attention was drawn to a melodic humming. He watched the brown haired concertina player, rocking back and forth heel to toe, eyes downcast, humming the tune. Feeling his gaze on her she glanced up and when her brown eyes met his, Mike felt a smile spread slowly over his face.

Her liquid brown gaze met his squarely and she smiled in return, the light of curiosity entering her eyes.

"Did you get a chance to see the seals?" Mike asked her. At the puzzled frown that appeared on her brow, he continued, "You know…uhh…there were some at the back…stern of the boat…in the…water," he lifted his hand to his chin and raised one eyebrow as he stumbled to a halt under the amused warmth of her eyes.

"Ah," she said, nodding her head as if it all made perfect sense, "you can oft times see the grey seals around the shore."

Her speaking voice was as melodic as her singing voice, assured and calm and just a hint of a lilt that Mike couldn't quite place.

"Well, I can tell you, you would never see any seals following a boat in the Toronto harbor or in Lake Ontario," Mike said with a crooked grin as he stepped a little closer.

"And is that where you are from then Mr…?" her smile traveled to her eyes.

"Celluci…Michael, please call me Michael," he answered nodding. "Yes, I'm…" he paused momentarily before saying, "visiting from Toronto."

"Michael…the Defender," she said as she transferred the handle of her case to one hand and put out her other.

When Mike took her small warm hand in his, he couldn't say exactly what it was he felt, a kind of a calming sense that all would be well seemed to overcome him.

"My name is Liath, Michael…Liath Roane. I am very pleased to meet you," she said as she clasped his larger hand in a surprisingly firm grip.

Mike retained his grip on her hand just a second or two longer than was completely necessary,as he looked into her smiling eyes. He wondered what it would be like to walk...

Her laugh was musical and lyric and he felt himself drawn back into the moment and he forced himself to release her hand. In this close proximity she had to tilt her head back to look into his face.

"Did you enjoy watching the seals Michael?" she asked, her head canted to the side and her thick braid slipped over her shoulder to rest against her chest.

Mike called the image of the seals to his mind's eye. "Yes," he responded slowly, "I did like them. The way they slipped so smoothly and lithely through the transparent green water, dancing and playing in the wake from the ferry, chasing each other, like they didn't have a care in the world. It was almost…"

He sputtered to a stop suddenly embarrassed as his words, but Liath finished for him.

"Almost magical?" she asked with a grin.

"Beautiful," he finally said. Then before he could allow embarrassment to silence him he continued, "Beautiful like your voice and your playing, I've never heard anything quite like it."

"Well thank you, Michael," she said. Her cheeks flushed a little with her pleasure. "We will be playing a gig at the Victoria Folk Club, tomorrow night, we'll be the feature. You could come and see us there, if you like. Or I'll be doing a bit of busking down at the inner harbor as well, tomorrow during the day, perhaps I'll see you there," she said

The ferry shuddered as the captain reversed her engines in full to bring her gently to dock.

"I should probably get to my car," Mike said, though he made no move to leave. He stood with his hands thrust into his trench coat pockets, smiling down at her.

She nodded her head, and when he didn't move away she said, "You probably should."

"Mmmmm…I don't suppose you need a ride into town or…" he managed to pull his scattered wits together. In the background he could hear car doors opening and closing and even a few engines roaring to life.

"Oh no I don't, I have a friend who is coming to pick me up at the dock. But thank you for the offer."

"Would that be your boyfriend or your fiancé?" he asked. Oh my God, I can't believe I just asked that, he thought.

Liath laughed aloud at the distressed look on Michael's face, but there was no mockery in her laughter, and after a moment Mike smiled ruefully. "No," she said, "not my boyfriend or fiancé."

The line of foot passengers began to gather their bags and bundles as the gate slid open and the first of the cars began to roll forward to the ramp.

"Michael, you must go," she jerked her head towards the cars.

"Yeah, I…I'll see you soon…Liath," Mike said as he turned away to hurry to his car.

She just smiled a gentle smile and raised her hand.