Vicki Nelson hated getting the silent treatment; she hated it with a passion. She stood in the doorway of her office and regarded her assistant as she sat at her desk, straight backed and stiff and obviously angry.
Coreen with her incessant chatter, with her absolutely annoying and never ending enthusiasm, with her ready smiles and excitement, sat silent, staring straight ahead at her computer screen.
Experimentally, Vicki sighed loudly, hoping to get a response. She was rewarded with a tightening of Coreen's shoulders as she hunched a little more closely to her computer screen, resolutely ignoring the other woman.
"How about making some coffee, Coreen?" Vicki tried a different tact. It was already dark and they were almost finished tying up the loose ends before their flight to Vancouver tomorrow. "We only have a few more files to get in order and…"
Coreen pushed back her chair and stood up. Without looking at Vicki she said, "If you want some coffee Vicki you know I will be happy to make it for you…ANYTHING you want, Vicki." She started to move woodenly towards the kitchenette, her anger and upset written plain in her body language.
"Coreen, for God's sakes! What the hell is wrong?" Vicki demanded, her patience thinning to nonexistent status.
"Nothing," Coreen said, her voice dead, "Nothing is wrong, it's none of my business anyways."
"Coreen…" Vicki's voice held a sudden note of panic as she realized too late that the tiny Gothette had manipulated her into opening the topic.
"I mean it's really none of my business is it?" Coreen continued as though she were talking to the air itself as she picked up the coffee pot. She carried it to the small sink, saying to no one in particular, "Why would it be my business that two of the people that I love, yes I said love, most in the world are breaking each other's hearts. Of course that's none of MY business!"
She waved the coffee pot briefly in the air after pouring the water into the machine, then set it down on the counter with a thump as she reached for the coffee canister.
Vicki stood open mouthed as Coreen continued, never glancing in Vicki's direction, "Victoria Nelson, Private Investigator Extraordinaire, so blind, yes I said BLIND, that she can't see what is in front of her face and so stubborn that she wouldn't know love if it came up and bit her on the ASS."
Coreen dropped two scoops of coffee into the basket and swung it closed. She leaned on the plastic lid of the coffee to seal it.
"Then there's the Vampire Prince, gorgeous and sexy and too good to be true. Pining away for the object of his affections, so caught up in the whole tragedy of his existence, that he won't just take what he wants."
Coreen punched the on button of the coffee machine a tad too forcefully and with a toss of her black hair turned to finally meet Vicki's shocked gaze with her own kohl rimmed eyes, as she leaned her slim black clad hips against the counter.
"And the rest of us poor sods, who love you both," she said with a catch in her voice, "we're just supposed to stand by and watch you destroy each other."
There was a long moment of shocked silence.
"So are you going to fire me now?" she asked in a suddenly small voice.
Vicki removed her glasses and rubbed at the vicious ache that had started up above her eye. She shook her head and pursed her lips as she looked up at Coreen's blurry outline. "All this because I told you not to call Henry and tell him that we are going to be in Vancouver?" she asked finally.
Coreen let out a breath that she didn't realize she had been holding. Nodding her head she said miserably, "It's just so hard to watch, Vicki, anyone can see that Henry loves you, he would be so excited to know that…"
"It's complicated Coreen," Vicki interrupted. "Complicated in ways you don't understand. Henry has gone on to a new life in a new territory, that's how it is for him. When he tires of humanity and our petty problems and our brief lives, he moves on, I don't blame him, he has to."
Coreen thought of all the heart rending e-mail messages she had read that Henry had sent Vicki. She knew, she just knew that Henry was waiting for a sign from Vicki, something to indicate the way she felt. She didn't want Vicki to know that she had seen those private correspondences; she had to tread carefully, and it was a major coup that she had Vicki talking about Henry at all.
"Well even if he has moved on her tone providing the verbal italics, don't you think that he might be interested in seeing a couple of old friends from Toronto and showing them around his new city? I know I really would like to see him Vicki, I never even really got a chance to say goodbye before he left." Coreen was hoping she had hit the exactly correct wheedling note.
Vicki slid into Coreen's chair, laying her glasses on the desk top. "Do you really think so, Coreen?" She chewed her lip and then looking away admitted, "I mean I had that one phone call, but it just seems he either takes offense to, or is hurt by, every word I say."
The trepidation in her voice cut Coreen to the heart, "Yes, Vicki, I really think so. Can we call him and let him know we're coming?"
Coreen waited, and at last Vicki said slowly, "No, no we won't call him and tell him, we'll just show up and surprise him when we get there. He gave me his address so we'll just drop by right when he's rising, then we'll be sure to catch him in. That way he won't have to go to a lot of bother."
Coreen knew when to leave the field; she had won what she most wanted. This morning, Vicki had insisted that they would not contact Henry at all while they were in Vancouver, that they would do what business they had and then get out. Finding herself now to be in the position where Vicki had agreed to meet with him while there in Vancouver was a major victory in Coreen's campaign.
Coreen turned to the cupboard and pulled down a mug, poured a steaming cup of coffee and crossing the room handed it to Vicki.
She gave Vicki one of her perkiest smiles. "All right then, we should get this all tied up, we have a flight to catch at eight in the morning."
Mug in hand, Vicki wandered back into her own office, a slightly puzzled frown on her face.
***
It was almost midnight by the time they had finished up with whatever they could do in advance of their absence.
The last echo of Coreen's footsteps on the stairs and her call of, "See you bright and early tomorrow!" had dissipated as the street side door swung closed behind her. Vicki lowered herself into her desk chair and let out a heartfelt sigh. Coreen was a great help but witnessing her unending energy and enthusiasm sometimes made Vicki feel downright ancient.
She looked at her cell phone sitting on the desktop, and did a quick calculation. Just after midnight here meant it was after nine in Vancouver. Celluci had been avoiding her calls for two days now.
She knew from Henry's e-mail that Celluci had met up with Henry in a restaurant in Vancouver, and that they had had some words. So why had Mike lied to her? It didn't make any sense. Usually he was the first one to try to make trouble for Henry. Mike had seemed totally honest about his desire to have her tell Henry to keep away from him. Of course she wasn't talking to Henry right now, so that might prove a little difficult. But why didn't Celluci want her to know he had seen Henry? And why wasn't he returning her calls? Vicki knew Mike; it meant one thing. There was something he didn't want to explain to her, something he didn't want her to know, and she couldn't have that.
She picked up the phone and flipped open the cover, thumbing Mike's number. After two rings she heard him pick up. "Hey Vic, look, now's not a great time, can I…"
"When the fuck were you planning on returning my call Mike?" Vicki hissed into the phone. "You lied to me about seeing Henry. Why?"
"I didn't lie, Vicki, I just didn't want to go into it," Mike said. "And I suppose his Highness just couldn't keep his bloodsucking trap shut could he?"
"Well we are going to go into it Buster," she growled. "I'm going to be in Vancouver tomorrow and when I am…"
Vicki heard Mike's indrawn breath and then his voice, suddenly angry, "So you're running right back into HIS waiting arms, are you Vicki? Well you better be careful. You may find that he's not the tame little 'graphic novelist' that you remember."
That asshole thinks that I am running after Henry —just like I knew he would— and I am sure that the egomaniac Princeling will think exactly the same thing. It was none of Celluci's business what she did. "Fuck you, Celluci."
"Right back at you, Nelson," he said, his voice rough. "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. You know what Vic? I'm done. You fucked me over big time, and you can't even imagine what you've done to…Arg! Fuck this shit!"
Vicki was furious. How dare he, how dare Celluci tell her that she was screwing around with people's heads and hearts, they were the ones…they were the ones that…
The silence on the other end of the line was complete as she struggled for the words that would allow her to express how wrong and unfair that…
Mike said in a resigned voice, "Look, I have to go…I'll call you." Then the line was disconnected.
Vicki threw her phone across the room. She was not even rewarded with the satisfaction of hearing it smash, as it hit the back of the sofa and bounced harmlessly onto the seat.
Aarrggg…men! What was it with all of them that they just didn't get it? She yanked open the desk drawer and roughly shuffled through the contents until she found a hair tie. She pulled her hair up into a too-tight ponytail and slammed the drawer shut.
When she got to Vancouver, when she got there she would show both of those high handed asses exactly what she…I need to hit something, right now, she thought.
By 1:15 a.m., her arms were trembling with fatigue as she pulled off her boxing gloves. She was covered with sweat and gasping for breath as she lifted her swollen knuckles to her lips. But she felt calmer. She had pushed away Mike's hurtful words, locking them in a place where they couldn't touch her. She would call a cab and head home; she still had to pack her bag for tomorrow.
At 2:30 a.m. Vicki lay in a tangle of sheets, the red numerals of her clock counting down the minutes to her 5:00 a.m. alarm. Her suitcase sat by the door.
She was deep in a dream and she tossed and turned fretfully, her legs twitching…as she ran along the seawall in Stanley Park. The night was ebony black and the stars were brilliant, high above. Her footfalls sounded loud to her ears and her breathing was ragged. Her chest burned and she was trying to trying to run but…a figure emerged from the trees to her right and began to run towards her, she had to keep going.
Run; run! She could see that their paths would intersect. She had to run faster. Her heart was pounding. The figure was closer now and she could see it was Henry, his eyes black and his fangs extended. If she didn't hurry he would catch her.
She put on a burst of speed. She was almost past when his grasping fingers caught at her shirt and they both went down, with a bruising force, to the ground. He was on her, his hands and body rolling and pinning her to the ground. He laid his weight on her as he lifted his face above her. His eyes were deep and dark and bottomless in the starlight. Standing behind Henry's shoulders she could see Mike, shaking his head as she screamed and struggled.
"Do you think that there won't EVER be any price to pay, Huh?"
Henry lowered his fangs towards her throat and she could see him swallow in anticipation.
"Vicki," he whispered longingly. As she felt him tear her flesh she breathed his name…
The red numbers flicked over, counting down the minutes, as her whisper floated in the dark of her bedroom. "Henry…"
****
"Yes, Sandy, yes I know. No, you needn't worry about the submissions deadline. I told you the outline is more than three quarters finished and I am a long way ahead of schedule."
Henry paused and listened to the voice of one of his business agents on the other end of the phone.
"Sandy, we have been over this many times, I will not attend any daytime engagements. If it is of the, "utmost importance," to them, they can reschedule for an evening.
Sighing, Henry leaned his head on his palm where he held the phone to his ear. He picked up a pen and began to idly sketch the face of the woman to whom he was speaking on the corner of one of his drawings. It was not a flattering likeness, the open mouth far too large and her eyes small and squinted like… "I do apologize, Sandy, I missed that last bit, could you repeat it," he said into the phone, smiling slightly.
Fifteen minutes later, with the phone hot to the touch and the call concluded, Henry looked ruefully at one of the outline pages spread out on his drawing table. The margins bore several quick sketches of Sandy, all less than flattering and many considerably gnome-like in their appearance. All were rendered indelibly in blue ballpoint pen.
Well you can't submit that page now, can you, Fitzroy? He told himself, though it might be worth it to see…I'll just have to draw it again.
Book signings in San Francisco, and then Los Angeles for the current release…complicated for travel given the time of year, but the flights are short, it should be possible.
I'll contact Augustus, and see if he can arrange for a travel 'assistant,' and for safe accommodations, once Sandy firms up the dates. And then I'll need "dispensation of passage" from the resident holders of both territories, as well as for Seattle for the convention and awards dinner at the end of next month.
Henry laid the drawing aside and crossed to the window. His city was alive below him, the streets still busy with cars and pedestrian traffic though the time was well after midnight.
He did not need to feed this evening, not after what he had done…last night. His lips thinned a little at the memory. Still, he thought he may take a walk down Robson. The late night theater crowd and the club patrons would be on the streets for at least a few more hours, there would be plenty of activity.
Arteros' was a new coffee shop that he had discovered, full of young artists and poets and musicians, seeing and being seen. Perhaps he would drop by; it was busy until two at least and often longer.
When the phone had rung earlier for a brief moment he had thought…but no, he should have known, he could only endure.
When he had risen this evening, rumpled and fully clothed and curled around his pillows, he had thought that perhaps he may just lie there in the dark and listen to the sea. He had fed fully and the hunger would not force him to rise tonight, but in the end he had roused himself, showered and changed and spent the next three hours working steadily on his drawings.
Housekeeping had come and gone while he sat at his work. Galena, the sixty something housekeeper, had kept up an easy banter in Russian with him whenever their eyes met. Somehow though she had known he was troubled and had pressed a peppermint scented kiss to his cheek and patted his hand when she had gathered her things to go.
****
He narrowed his eyes as he stepped out into the bright lights of the lobby, Tanya was behind the security desk as always and there was a large bouquet of deep red black roses on the counter.
"Oh, Mr. Fitzroy," she said as she rose from her seat, "are you on your way out?"
Henry came up closer to the desk. He smiled engagingly at the guard and said, "Yes, I am meeting some friends for a late night drink." He raised a finger to the black rolled edge of one of the petals. "They say that red black roses in a bouquet indicate a bashful apology," Henry said.
"They are beautiful aren't they?" Tanya said.
Henry nodded, "Who are they from?"
"Well, that's the strangest thing, they had a little card with them that said, 'you won't remember my transgression, but I sincerely apologize.' I mean I meet some pretty rude people but why would someone send me such a beautiful bouquet?"
"I suppose he was right then, when he said you wouldn't remember," Henry said as he turned away.
"Good evening Tanya."
****
The plane swung out wide in a huge arc as it approached the Vancouver airport from over the water. Coreen with her face pressed to the windows could catch glimpses of the slate grey water and the tidal flats visible between the ragged low clouds below. "So much water! Did you know, Vicki, this is the first time I've ever seen the Pacific?"
"So much for sunny Vancouver," Vicki groused as the plane shuddered a little with some turbulence on its final approach.
The pilot had warned when they took off from the stop-over in Calgary that the coast was socked in with rain and fog, and their approach over the Rockies had been just a trifle bumpy. Then there had been an hour of flying through cloud until they had finally dropped low enough to see the tidal flats laid out in front of them. Despite the bumpy ride, the landing was perfect and they came down to earth on the West Coast smoothly.
The airport was crowded and noisy, when they exited the plane but once out in the main terminal, Coreen kept grabbing Vicki's arm and pointing out the huge native sculptures.
The open floor plan and soaring roof were all suitably impressive and very "West Coast" to Vicki's mind. The mountains of the North Shore were nothing but a darkened smudge on the drizzling grey across the tarmac.
Coreen was virtually dragging Vicki along by the arm, babbling something about baggage carousels and the damn gigantic suitcase that she had checked.
Finally Vicki dug in her heels, "Coreen, enough! It is going to happen in this order: first coffee and then luggage and then a taxi."
Half an hour later they were safely ensconced in the back seat of a Checkered Cab and en route to their hotel. Vicki was working on the cool dregs of her large coffee and staring through the steamy window of the cab as it rolled down Granville Street.
The gracious homes were set well back from the dripping green trees that lined the street. If she focused slightly ahead she could watch the pedestrians on the street hurrying by with umbrellas or in waterproof parkas. There are way too many people walking fucking dogs and on bicycles, Vicki thought to herself.
Coreen sat back in the seat and turned to Vicki. "So this is Henry's new territory eh! I wonder how far out from the city center he...you know," she said, rolling her eyes towards the driver and lowering her voice to a whisper, "...hunts."
Vicki just shook her head and turned her eyes to the window again. She could hear the swishing of the wipers and the low voices of Coreen asking the driver about this or that, but her attention was focused on the streets. All of them had a sense of strangeness about them. They looked foreign and she just couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing.
She wondered, was this how they had felt to Henry, when he first made this city his own, strange and foreign? How many cities and how many times had he moved on? The rain poured down outside the warm closeness of the cab.
When they passed through to downtown over the Granville Street Bridge, the cityscape became more familiar to Vicki's eyes. The driver turned left and headed along the water. English Bay lay soaked in the falling rain, the beach deserted and the water that was visible through the mist, grey and troubled.
Coreen turned excitedly to Vicki, "I asked him to drive by Henry's building just so we could see it, then he'll take us through Stanley Park and around to the "Georgia Annex" Hotel."
"Coreen…" Vicky said warningly, but she didn't have the heart to continue, given how excited the Goth was. When they passed in front of the tower bearing Henry's address Coreen grabbed her arm and would have squealed aloud if Vicki hadn't clapped a hand over her mouth.
Then they were past and into the leafy dripping green of the park. For once Coreen was silenced as she watched the towering old growth trees standing silent and hoary in the misting rain. Vicki's imagination flew to an enclosed dark space high above, in a concrete tower where she knew the vampire sheltered from the pale grey light of the wet day, his heart at rest, beating so slowly as to be imperceptible, his smooth cool limbs in….
A horn honked to tell the cabbie to merge in front, startling Vicki from her reverie and then they were suddenly out of the park and into the Georgia Street traffic, eventually arriving at their hotel a few moments later. The Georgia Annex was a small and intimate old world style hotel. A tasteful red brick building on a residential side street, it boasted no more than twenty rooms on four charming and vine covered floors. Even in the dull grey weather the faceted windows sparkled with a welcoming sheen.
Vicki turned to Coreen and asked in appreciation, "How do you do it Coreen? On two days notice find not one but two rooms in a place like this, half way across the country?"
Holding the handle of her huge rolling suitcase Coreen simply rocked heel to toe and smiled, as the cab pulled away. "I have my ways," was her only response.
Eventually they were settled in two paneled, adjoining rooms on the ground floor, both of which featured French doors which opened to the manicured garden of the courtyard.
Coreen was enamored with the room and was soon hard at work, setting up her laptop and all her equipment. Their first appointment at the Vancouver Aquarium was tomorrow morning. She had already informed Vicki that her intention was to explore the hotel and then have a leisurely nap.
Vicki was restless; something troubled her and she could not seem to sit still. They had made plans to go for dinner on Denman at 6:30 that evening, Coreen insisting excitedly that that would give them plenty of time to be at Henry's doorstep when he rose.
Sitting around for three or more hours was going to kill her, or at the very least cause her to wear a hole in the Oriental rug in her room. In the end Vicki changed into her sweats and decided to take a run. If nothing else it would ease some of the tension she felt building up in her shoulders.
She promised Coreen she would be back in plenty of time and then she started out in the grey light of the afternoon. The air was cool and wet, not rain at this point but a steady and pervasive drizzle that she knew will have her soaked through before she returned.