"She's coming." Henry turned to face the door and Tony thought he looked like a cat, watching the shad?ows for movement no one else could see. A moment later, three evenly spaced raps that unmistakably said, This is the police, shattered the expectant silence into sharp-edged little pieces.
"You'd better answer it." Hands locked behind his back, Henry made his way to the far side of the living room. "I think it might be best if I kept my distance."
Almost afraid of cutting himself on the shards of anticipation, Tony walked to the door, took a deep breath, and threw it open.
Celluci, about to knock again, lowered his hand.
Vicki, who'd been staring down the hall, spun around.
Had Tony not spent the last two years sharing living space with a vampire, he'd have fled, screaming. As it was, he swallowed hard, tried to keep his legs from buckling, and forced his mouth into what he hoped was an approximation of a smile. "Yo, Victory. You're lookin' good."
The fear in his voice penetrated. There were a great many people whose fear Vicki rather enjoyed, but Tony wasn't one of them. Let's just prove Henry's point for him, shall we? she snarled to herself as she struggled for control. I will not be dominated by blind instinct!
Tony, watching the silver mute out of her eyes, ex?changed a wary glance with Celluci, who added an infinitesimal shrug. Before either man could speak, however, Vicki found her voice.
"I just spent four days on the road, I need a shower, and I look like shit, but thanks for lying." She cocked her head and looked him up and down-to Tony's surprise the inspection didn't make him feel like a rare steak. "You, on the other hand, are looking good. You've filled out, got some color... " Her brows dipped down. "... but your hair's too short."
"It's the style," he protested indignantly, rubbing a palm over his close-cropped skull.
Vicki sighed. "Tony, it didn't look that good on Keanu Reeves either. Now then, you going to invite us in, or are you going to leave us standing in the hall?"
Ears pink, Tony stepped out of the doorway. "Sorry."
"As much my fault as yours," Vicki admitted. Look?ing appreciatively around the entry-Henry'd bought the Pacific Place condo after she'd returned to Toronto-she nodded toward the colonnaded arch. "Living room through there?"
"Yeah, but. . ." As she disappeared, he let his voice trail off and glanced up at Detective Sergeant Michael Celluci. During his years on the street, they hadn't exactly gotten along, but judging from the detective's expression, tonight the past had been buried under their common present.
"Is he in there?"
Tony sighed. "Yeah."
"Why, if he believes in this territorial imperative thing?"
"He wants to prove a point."
Like Tony before him, Celluci understood. "I can't say as I blame him. Let's hope we all survive it."
They walked together into the living room, each hoping that the silence had to be a good sign.
Henry stood with his back to the window, the lights of Granville Island beginning to pierce the dusk be?hind him. Head up, arms crossed over his chest, he wore a blue silk shirt, faded jeans, and white running shoes. His lips were pressed into a thin line. His eyes were dark.
Vicki stood by the ultramodern dining room table, the fingers of her right hand pressed hard against the green glass top. Head up, her left hand opening and closing by her side, she wore a blue silk shirt, faded jeans, and white running shoes. Her lips were drawn up enough to show the points of her teeth. Her eyes were silver.
Standing at the edge of the room, Tony could feel the tension building. In a moment, without a word being said, it would build past the breaking point. When that happened, he didn't have the faintest idea of what he could do to prevent the inevitable violence or if he'd have the courage to do it even if he knew. How would they fight? Would there be bloodshed? Wouldn't vampires instinctively refuse to waste so pre?cious a resource?
Beside him, Celluci swept a cynical gaze over the room, snorted, and said, "I see you guys've got a uni?form. What's next? Team jackets and baseball caps?"
Tony shot him a startled glance and faded back just far enough to use the detective's bulk as a shield.
The tableau broke. As Henry snarled and stepped forward, Vicki's sense of the ridiculous pushed past her instinctive responses. She stared at Henry's clothes, then down at her own, and snickered. "Christ, we look like a set of undead Bobsey Twins."
Nostrils flared, Henry stopped and turned to face her again.
His aborted charge had brought him away from the window. Smile twisting into a snarl, Vicki backed around the table. "Don't stand so close!" She didn't want to attack, but she didn't think she'd be able to stop herself if he came any closer. She fought to see past instinct, to the lover, to the friend, to the teacher who'd taught her to survive within the parameters of her new existence, but the knowledge of what they'd once been to each other kept getting lost behind what they were.
"This is my territory, Vicki." Henry took a step closer; graceful, deadly. "Not yours. You do not tell me what to do in my territory."
"At least they're talking," Celluci muttered to no one in particular. "That's an improvement."