Part 4 (1/2)
Vicki turned her head to look at him but he only smiled beatifically, the picture of wronged innocence.
He was looking pretty good, she had to admit, his eyes were clear, his hair was clean, and he'd actually begun to gain a little weight. ”Good for you. Now back to my first question, what are you doing in this part of town?”
”I got a place here.” He dropped that bombsh.e.l.l with all the studied nonchalance a young man of almost twenty could muster.
”You what!” The exclamation was for Tony's benefit, as he so obviously wanted her to make it. Her mood began to lighten under the influence of his pleasure.
”It's just a room in a bas.e.m.e.nt.” He shrugged - no big deal. ”But I got my own bathroom. I never had one before.”
”Tony, how are you paying for this?” He'd always turned the occasional trick, and she hoped like h.e.l.l he hadn't gone into the business full time - not only because it was illegal but because the specter of AIDS now haunted every encounter.
”I could say it's none of your business. ...” As her brows drew down, he raised his hands appeasingly.
”But I won't. I got a job. Start on Monday. Henry knows this guy who's a contractor and he needed a wiffle.”
”A what?”
”Guy who does the joe jobs.”
”Henry found you this?”
”Yup. Found me the place too.”
All the years she'd known Tony, the most he'd ever been willing to take from her had been the occasional meal and a little cash in return for information. Henry Fitzroy had known him less than five months and had taken over his life. Vicki had to unclench her teeth before she could speak. ”Have you been spending a lot of time with Henry?” The question held an edge.
Tony glanced over at her appraisingly, squinting a little in the bright afternoon sun. ”Not much. Hear you're gonna be doing some howling with him this weekend though.” At her frown, he leaned closer and in an excellent imitation of a monster movie matinee, intoned, ”Verevolves.”
”And did he discuss the case with you too?”
”Hey, he just mentioned it.”
”I'm surprised he didn't invite you along.”
”Jeez, Victory,” Tony shook his head. ”There's just no talking to you in this mood. Get laid or something and lighten up, eh.” He waved jauntily and raced to catch the streetcar at the lights.
Vicki's reply got lost in traffic sounds and it was probably just as well.
”Is it something I said?”
Vicki didn't bother to lift her head off the cool gla.s.s of the car window. The highway lights were less than useless as illumination so why bother turning to face a man she couldn't see. ”What are you talking about?”
Her tone was so aggressively neutral that Henry smiled. He concentrated for a moment on slipping the BMW into the just barely adequate s.p.a.ce between two transports then out the other side to a clear section of road where he actually managed to achieve the speed limit for seven or eight car lengths before he caught upto another section of congested traffic. ”You haven't said two civil words to me since I picked you up. I was wondering if I'd done something to annoy you.”
”No.” She s.h.i.+fted position, drummed her fingers on her knee, and took a deep breath. ”Yes.” Personal differences must not be allowed to influence the case; things were going to be difficult enough already. If they didn't deal with this now, odds were good it'd turn up sometime a lot more dangerous. ”I spoke with Tony today.”
”Ah.” Jealousy, he understood. ”You know I must feed from a number of mortals, Vicki, and you yourself chose the other night to. ...”
She turned to glare at the indistinct outline his body made against the opposite window. ”What the h.e.l.l does that have to do with anything?” Her left fist slammed down on the dash. ”For four years I couldn't get Tony to take anything from me but a couple of hamburgers and some spare change. Now all of a sudden you've found him a job and a place to live.”
Henry frowned. ”I don't understand the problem.” He knew her anger was genuine, both her breathing and her heartbeat had accelerated, but if it wasn't the s.e.xual aspect that bothered her. ... ”You don't want Tony to be off the streets?”
”Of course I do, but ...”...but I wanted to be the one to save him. She couldn't say that, it sounded so petty. It was also completely accurate. Abruptly anger changed to embarra.s.sment. ”... but I don't know how you did it,” she finished lamely.
The pause and the emotional change were as clear an indication of her thoughts as if she'd spoken them aloud. Four hundred and fifty years having taught discretion if nothing else, Henry wisely responded only to Vicki's actual words. ”I was raised to take care of my people.”
Vicki snorted, grateful for a chance to change the subject. ”Henry, your father was one of the greatest tyrants in history, burning Protestants and Catholics impartially. Disagreement of any kind, personal or political, usually ended in death.”
”Granted,” Henry agreed grimly. ”You needn't convince me. I was there. Fortunately, I wasn't raised by my father.” Henry VIII had been an icon for his b.a.s.t.a.r.d son to gaze at in awe and, more than that, he'd been king in a time when the king was all. ”The Duke of Norfolk saw to it that I was taught the responsibilities of a prince.” And only fate had prevented the Duke of Norfolk from being the last death of King Henry's reign.
”And Tony is one of 'your people'?”
He ignored the sarcasm. ”Yes.”
It was as simple as that for him, Vicki realized, and she couldn't deny that Tony had responded to it in a way he'd never responded to her. She was tempted to ask,”What am I?” but didn't. The wrong answer would likely throw her into a rage and she had no idea of what the right answer would be. She fiddled with the air-conditioning vents for a moment. ”So tell me about werewolves.”
Definitely a safer topic.
”Where should I start?”
Vicki rolled her eyes. ”How about with the basics? They didn't cover lycanthropy at the police academy.”
”All right.” Henry drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and thought for a moment. ”For starters, you can forget everything you've ever seen at the movies. If you're bitten by a werewolf, all you're going to do is bleed. Humans cannot become wer.”
”Which implies that werewolves aren't humans.”
”They aren't.”
”What are they then, small furry creatures from Alpha Centauri?”
”No, according to the oldest of their legends, they're the direct descendants of a she-wolf and the ancient G.o.d of the hunt.” He pursed his lips. ”That one's pretty much consistent throughout all the packs, although the name of the G.o.d changes from place to place. When the ancient Greek and Roman religions began to spread, the wer began calling themselves Diana's chosen, the hunting pack of the G.o.ddess.
Christianity added the story of Lilith, Adam's first wife, who, when she left the garden, lay with the wolf G.o.d created on the fifth day and bore him children.”
”What do you believe?”
”That there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed up in your philosophy.”
Vicki snorted. ”What a cop-out,” she muttered. ”And misquoted.”
”How do you know? Remember, I heard the original. Had the hardest time convincing Shakespeare not to call the poor guy Yoluff.” He sounded perfectly serious but he had to be pulling her leg. ”Yoluff, Prince of Denmark. Can you imagine?”
”No. And I don't really care about mythic wer. I want to know what I can expect tonight.”
”What do you know about wolves?”
”Only what I've learned from National Geographic specials on PBS. I suppose we can discount the character a.s.sa.s.sination indulged in by the Brothers Grimm?”
”Please. Brothers Grimm aside, wer function much the same way wolves do. Each pack is made up of a family group of varying ages, with a dominant male and a dominant female in charge.”