a khaki blouse and a khaki skirt and a light blue scarf Annabelle had found for her somewhere that highlighted her blond hair and rich golden skin. Felix was, quite simply, unable to look at her.
He was afraid of what he might say to her.
He was afraid of what he might do to her.
He was mostly afraid of the vampires, though, and it didn't matter if she had just lately come on board and it didn't matter that she was, technically, still a reporter doing a story - all that had long been forgotten. She was part of Team Crow now, sure-as hell. Team Crow was home.
He was afraid of what he might do for her.
So now, nine hours into a most un-Team-like victory party, he sat in the lone chair in the far corner of what passed for a suite in the cheap motel the ladies had found and did his drinking and chain-smoking alone.
Because Jack Crow was wrong.
This deal would not play anymore. Not like this.
Not with me.
Fuck 'em.
Everyone noticed, of course. They could hardly help it.
When their gunman was planted so hard in that one chair. When he smoked so incessantly, drank so ferociously. When he would brood so hard he seemed to strobe...
Sometimes it seemed that chair of his, that whole corner of the room, really, seemed to corridor away into the distance.
Sooner or later, it was going to get ugly. It had been heading for it since the last pile of ashes.
Felix rode with Cat in the motorhome on the way to the rendezvous with the women. He rode in silence, ignoring what little Cat had to say, until Cat finally turned in the driver's seat and looked at him.
Is he relieved? Cat wondered. Stunned? Maybe he's in shock or...
No! he realized suddenly. That's anger! He's furious.
And just then Felix had turned and looked at him and those dead eyes had bored deeply for just a moment. Then the gunman climbed out of his seat and disappeared into the back until they reached the motel.
Even for Annabelle, who was used to the endless waiting, this had been a tough one. Her tears of joy were a little brighter this time, her hugs of welcome a little tighter, her voice a little more strident. Davette, on the other hand, seemed possessed by a surreal glow of happiness at their survival. She took turns with Annabelle hugging everyone and blushing furiously when Cat, with a wicked grin, hauled off and gave her a long, wet, sloppy one.
All save Felix. He stood at the edge of it all, nodding curtly to the women and asking for his room key and mumbling something about wanting to take a shower right away.
He got his key and a tense moment before Father Adam announced that he wanted to have special services immediately - while everyone was still sober enough to pray, ha ha.
And Felix took part in this but the way he knelt and rocked and prayed, so fiercely radiating anger and fear... By the time the priest could quickly break it up they all felt sprayed.
Then there was a knock on the door and Sheriff Hattoy and Kirk and a few other deputies appeared for a little celebrating and Jack brought out glasses and their special schnapps and instructed the newcomers on the toast: "Here's to the great ones..." began Jack.
"There's damn few of us left!" finished the others and they all downed the schnapps and all, but Felix, laughed and asked for more. The gunman went to his room, taking a bottle of his scotch with him.
They partied without him, while the women desperately tried to whip up enough food fast enough to absorb just enough of the alcohol to make Annabelle's hypnotic debriefing possible later on. It was going to be close. Even for Team Crow, the boozing was heavy. The sheriff excused himself early. There had been a good reason why he had been late to their troubles, and that reason still existed. He had more work to do. He exchanged a quick private smile with Kirk before leaving his best deputy behind, as everyone had known would happen.
They partied gamely along some more and no one said anything about Felix not being there. And when the food was ready and he called from behind his locked motel room door that he wasn't hungry, no one said anything about that, either.
But everyone noticed. Everyone, that is, except Jack Crow. Jack refused to notice, thought Cat. Or maybe