Here Comes the Rainne Again (Invertary 6)

“Don’t stop,” Betty told the strippers. “If the power goes out again, I’ll hum a tune, and you boys carry on. If it gets too dark, I’ll feel my way.”

“I’m going to be sick,” Matt announced.

“Did you eat the prawns?” Josh asked.

“No, I watched Betty get a lap dance.”

“Oh yeah, that.”

“Don’t worry, boys,” Dougal boomed to a room full of men who were far from worried. “I have a backup generator. If this one fails, the backup will kick in. Nothing will stop this party.”

“I’m totally okay with something stopping this party,” Josh told the owner of the pub, who thought he was joking and laughed. Josh turned a miserable face to Mitch. “Do you think the women are okay? We don’t have a generator at the castle.”

“Yeah,” Mitch said. “You have about a million candles in every room and the heating is gas. The women will be fine. They’ll love the drama.”

“I hope so,” Josh said.

“Magenta’s there,” Harry told Josh. “She’s a caving expert; she’s used to the dark. She’ll look out for them.”

As one, the men turned to stare at Harry.

“What?” he said. “I was helping. I’m reassuring the guy. Magenta’s got this. She likes the dark. Nobody needs to worry.”

“She likes the dark because she’s a freaking vampire,” Flynn muttered.

“I’m telling her you said that. She is so going to kick your backside again.” Harry seemed pleased at the thought.

Callum leaned towards Lake. “I think I’m going to pass on the partnership offer.” He looked around the room, and if Lake hadn’t known the guy so well he wouldn’t have spotted the signs that he felt out of his depth. “I’m not cut out for this.”

Lake cocked an eyebrow at him. If he had something else to say he’d better spit it out. Lake wasn’t going to make it easy for him. Callum rubbed the scar on his chin. Lake remembered the exact moment he’d gotten it. A stray piece of shrapnel on a shitty job in Iraq. The operation had been a total screw-up from beginning to end, and they’d been lucky to get out with their lives.

“I don’t do social,” Callum said at last.

“No. You don’t. You’re a miserable, antisocial son of a bitch.”

Callum frowned at him. “Last time I checked, so were you.”

“I got over the fear. Found out socialising wouldn’t kill me after all.”

“Are you saying I’m a coward?”

Lake cocked an eyebrow at him. If the shoe fits...

Callum’s jaw clenched briefly. “This isn’t socialising. This isn’t normal. Everybody’s talking about their feelings and shit. The singer guy can’t shut up about his wife. And he says you’re part of a club that eats together once a week. Like you do this kind of crap regularly. Does that sound normal to you?” He shuddered. It was slight, but Lake noticed. “I don’t know what’s going on here. Maybe you sit around painting each other’s nails when you’re bored, but all this touchy-feely crap makes me

want to vomit.”

“Don’t hold back, Callum, tell me how you really feel.”

“I don’t think I can work with your boy, Harry, either.” His shoulders were still tense, as though it was physically impossible for the man to relax. And it probably was. They’d both spent a huge chunk of their lives on constant alert. It was a hard habit to break.

“Harry’s the best in the business. He has governments crawling all over themselves to get him to work for them.”

“He’s wearing a Doctor Who T-shirt.”

Lake’s lips twitched. “His dress sense has nothing to do with his ability.”

“He called me dude. Twice.”