Chapter 36
“I like it here,” Jason said. He was almost done with his blood cocktail and leaning back on the round upholstered bench in their booth.
Heath had ordered the cocktails, as well as a bottle of champagne for their table. He’d pretty much downed his cocktail as soon as the server had put it in front of him and was now pouring them each a glass of champagne.
“It’s a change of pace from Morgan’s. Here, Raven, keep drinking. We’re having fun.”
He handed Raven a glass, and Raven took it despite not having finished even a third of his cocktail.
“Thanks. It’s fun.”
Jason sniffed his own glass of champagne before sipping more of his cocktail. He then pointed behind them. “If you want to go out there and dance, Rave, I’ll come with you.”
Heath froze. He looked at the dance floor. “Are we…do we have to?” He blinked at the two of them. “I should’ve told you that I only know ballroom dances. The waltz, the foxtrot, that sort of thing.”
Jason held up his own glass of champagne when Heath did. “Why do you know how to waltz? Cheers.”
“Cheers.” Heath shrugged. “It was just one of the things you had to know, you know? There were balls at the Forum. There still are, I just don’t go anymore.
But in ‘polite society’—air quotes are so necessary for that, believe me—anyway, polite society has rules, and knowing how to dance those dances is one of them. ”
“It’s like in the stories. A big ball where you can find your one true love.” Raven took a sip of his own bubbly. “Did it ever work like that?”
For a moment, Heath looked as if he was giving that some serious consideration.
“Nah. I mean, I’m not saying no one ever met someone there, but the Forum always used to be about politics.
The balls are about power and rank. Presenting yourself in all your wealth is almost gauche.
It’s being spotted like a shooting star or a flash of lightning that’s the real goal.
Was never really my kind of crowd.”
Raven wondered whether he could ask what he wanted to ask. It was a personal question that had irked him for some time now, even kept him up some nights. After drinking more of his champagne, he decided to risk it.
“I guess Maxim was there to be seen, huh? Did he meet your mom at a ball?”
Heath cocked his head before refilling Raven’s glass. Jason, seeing an opportunity, finished the rest of his champagne, and held out his flute.
“As far as I know, they met on a hunt. You should ask Maxim to tell you the story. I can’t really speak to any of that. I hadn’t been born yet.”
Heath’s face didn’t betray his emotions, but Raven felt bad all the same. He’d never heard Heath’s mother mentioned, not by anyone, and that didn’t signal anything good.
“Sorry if I asked something too personal. I didn’t mean to—didn’t mean anything by it.”
Jason put his elbow up on the table. “Did she leave you guys, or did she die?”
“Jay, seriously?!” Raven moved to kick him under the table. “Sorry, Heath.”
Heath just sighed. “It’s fine. She died.
While giving birth to me, no less. I think it upset me when I was small, but…
I just never knew her. Maxim told me stories, but it wasn’t like they knew each other all that well or were soulmates or what have you, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s a lot. ”
Heath emptied his own glass, then immediately refilled it.
“I mean, I will admit that he was there for me always, especially… Dhampirs don’t grow like humans, so I was always the odd one out, but he was there.
He was an uber-parent. Yeah, that’s the word.
I had bedtime stories and birthday parties, and I had a white pony with a silver-gray mane that he taught me to ride and care for.
” He made a face. “He made me an equestrian.”
Jason finished his cocktail, then nodded. “Yeah, I can see that.”
“Yeah.” Heath looked at the bottle. “We’ll probably need a second one, am I right?”
Raven wasn’t much of a drinker, though he’d come to enjoy it sometimes. Still, the only hard liquor he’d ever bought, one bottle of decent vodka, he’d never finished. As far as he knew, Jason was still holding on to it for him.
Yet, Raven remembered that movie night when he’d first met Heath. His mind had been elsewhere, to say the least, but he did remember that Heath wasn’t much of a drinker.
Raven glanced at the bottle, which was still three fingers full. “Are you sure?”
Heath nodded. “Yeah. You guys… Raven, I’ll say something, okay, and I’ll say it now while I’m just mildly buzzed, okay? Then I’ll get us more drinks. I’m just saying this first.”
Raven licked his lips. “O-okay?”
Heath emptied his glass again. “I’m glad that we met. Not—I hate what happened to you, Raven. But I’m glad that you’re living with us and—fuck, no one breathe a word of this. Raven, I’m glad you’re taking care of Dad’s junk.”
Jason cleared his throat to hide his laughter. “Oh, are you now?”
Heath looked at him in confusion. “Yes. Obviously. It’s the first time in years he’s let anyone touch it, and I’d much rather it be you than…someone else. I can’t even imagine someone else touching Maxim’s junk, you know.”
Jason leaned close to Raven. “Do you think he hears himself?”
Raven could feel his eyebrows trying to meet up with his hairline. “Uhhh…”
Heath clicked his tongue. “Of course I hear myself. So what I’m saying is, thanks for taking care of my dad’s old stuff. And whatever you’re doing up there, keep doing it, okay? I think he likes it.”
Jason gaped. “Wow, this is a business meeting after all.”
Heath made an annoyed noise. “Of course it is. I told you so. But anyway, what I’m trying to say is—”
“Wildly out of place,” Jason said.
“No! I mean, maybe. Raven, I’m really happy we’re friends. We are friends, right?”
Raven did his best to keep a straight face. “Well, if you’re letting me touch Maxim’s…junk, I think that’s the minimum of what we are.”
Heath blinked at him. His eyes got a thoughtful, faraway look, and then, despite the colorful lights almost hiding it, Raven saw Heath’s cheeks turn pink.
“Ohhh. Oh, shit. That was—well, I just sounded like I need a fucking sensitivity seminar.”
Jason let his laugh fade into coughing. “Dude, you’re an equestrian. We can ignore it.”
“Probably won’t be able to forget it though,” Raven said.
Heath pressed his lips together before he said, “Let’s see how you feel after a few shots, then.
Wait! I was going to say, I’m glad we’re friends, and if you need me to help you with therapy—when you’re ready, I mean—I can help.
I’ve been reading up on it, you know? Okay.
That’s all I wanted to say.” He stood. “I’ll go order shots to help us collectively forget the last five minutes. You guys watch our bottle.”
Jason waited until Heath was at the bar before he said, “He’s…quirky. Are you okay?”
Raven thought about that. He didn’t feel the need to run and hide.
Strangely, he felt… Seen was probably a good word.
Heath and Jason knew. He didn’t have to tell them, so there was nothing to really hide from them.
And they were still here, even when he felt so different—some days more, some days less, always just enough to know he wasn’t himself anymore.
And yet, Heath and Jason didn’t think he was too broken to go to a place like this with them.
In his pocket, Raven closed his hand around the water bottle, making a conscious effort to mind his strength and not squeeze hard enough to make the plastic groan. “Yes, actually.”
Jason nodded. “Okay. Good. But the junk talk was suspicious though, right?”
Raven tilted his head to the side. “Suspicious?”
Jason surreptitiously gestured at the bar, where Heath was explaining whatever shots he had in mind for them.
“I mean he was… It was basically like he was…giving you the green light, right? Not that you should—I mean, what do I know? Nothing. The answer is nothing. No preconceived thoughts in my brain whatsoever, and no judgments either. But I was thinking, it was sort of a Freudian slip, right? And that’s…
Would you say that’s good to know, maybe? ”
Jason looked as if he expected Raven to know what he was talking about. Raven wasn’t sure he did.
“Do you…mean about therapy?”
Jason bobbed his head once. “Therapy. Right. Wow. You two are like peas in a pea salad. Pea salad? Hmm. Dude, I think I like this champagne. Hey, on a serious note, I also volunteer to be your therapy support buddy. Not sure what I’d do, but I’ll get into it, if you want me to.”
He will, won’t he? And he’s not just saying that.
For the first time since he’d awoken as a vampire, Raven considered that option.
The option of asking for someone else’s help in order to understand what had happened to him.
Well, he understood it. To a degree, he could quantify it, except if he tried to do that out loud, he was pretty sure his voice would break before he was done.
All of that was a strange thought to have, and one that some part of him knew he should feel guilty for, given how vaguely improper it was.
But all of it is improper. No. All of it is…
something. Raven was sure Maxim would know, would at least be able to say the right thing.
Maxim helped me more than anyone. Raven thought back to that night when he’d come to the stupid conclusion that sneaking into Maxim’s bedroom and…
offering himself was the right option. He shivered, shame creeping through his insides.
Why did I ever think that was a good idea?
Maybe someone else, like a therapist…maybe they can help me understand that?
Heath came back and sat down heavily. “They wouldn’t let me take the tray. They say it’s a fire hazard. As if I’m a fire hazard. Are you guys finishing the bottle?”
“Nope, you go right ahead.” Jason slid it across the table until it stood right in front of Heath.
“Don’t mind if I do.”
“What do you mean, fire hazard?” Raven asked.
Heath, his eyes on his glass while he poured himself more champagne, gestured vaguely in the direction of the bar.
“I told them I want those shots that you light on fire, a whole tray of them, and they said they’d bring it over.
Wouldn’t let me have it.” He poured the champagne his glass wouldn’t hold into Jason’s.
“You’re going to take a photo with me and the drinks on fire, and then you’re going to show it to the old bat. ”
“I don’t understand what it is with you and him and you having to drink,” Raven said.
Heath snorted. “My forebearers allegedly could hold their liquor, and he likes to tease me as if I can’t, but I can. It’s just him being…eh, old, I guess. Old people have old standards, you know?”
Jason made a thoughtful noise. “It probably works differently for you. Drinking, I mean. As a half vampire, your body has to work harder to deal with it, doesn’t it?”
Heath slurped his champagne since the glass was full to the brim, his brow furrowed with concentration. He emptied the glass, then put it back on the table with a clinking noise.
“You know what? That makes sense. You’re right. It’s just the old bat being unreasonable again. Like he always fucking is.”
“What old bat?” The bouncer with the Russian accent was walking toward their table, a tray covered in lit shot glasses balanced on three fingers. “Did you see a bat here, sugar bear?”
“I don’t even know why you’re calling me that. Are those our drinks?”
“Fae fire shots, yes.” The bouncer slid into the booth next to Raven while putting the tray down at the same time. “Do you know how to drink them, sugar bear?”
He looked at Heath, but Raven had a sense that he was addressing the entire table.
“Why don’t you show us?” Jason pulled out his phone and started taking photos.
“Hmm, yes. I can do that. Watch, sugar bears.”
The bouncer picked up one of the flaming glasses, and knocked it back, flame and all, then smiled at them as if he did that kind of thing every day. For all Raven knew, he did.
“There. Who wants to try first?”
Jason leaned against Raven’s shoulder. “Dude. That was unconventionally attractive, don’t you think? By which I mean it was literally hot.”
“I think you’re on your way to being drunk,” Raven said.
Jason nodded against his shoulder. “You’re probably right. That means if you want to dance with me, you better say so now. Before I try drinking fire.”
Heath slapped the flat of his hand on the table. “Nonsense! We can drink or dance or do whatever the fuck we want! Hand me a glass, barkeep!”
“Drinks’re right in front of you, sugar bear.” The bouncer pushed the tray just a little bit closer to Heath.
Heath snorted and reached for a drink. “The service here leaves much to be desired.” He then frowned at the full and fiery shot glass before actually drinking from it, flame and all, then he slammed the empty glass on the table, swallowed, and coughed when the liquor hit him.
Raven reached out, hesitated, then touched Heath’s shoulder. “Hey, maybe we should—”
Heath stole Raven’s champagne and finished the glass. “Excellent! This was excellent. Okay, I’m doing one more, and then we’re all doing one together.”
“There, there. Growing out your chest hair, sugar bear,” the bouncer said. “That’ll suit you.”
Heath tsked. “I still don’t know why you’re here at our table. Or why you called my office. But you can drink with us, I don’t even care anymore.”
I’m not sure Clement put enough water in the car, Raven thought, blowing out the flame hovering over the shot Heath handed him. At least one of them had to remain reasonably sober.