Chapter 11
It was close to four in the afternoon when Nick rounded the corner of the Pedestrian Mall and caught sight of Ash standing outside of the Corner Cafe, waiting for him. The Atlantean was leaning back against the red-brick wall with his arms folded over his chest and one leg bent and braced on the wall in a way that looked nonchalant, and yet Nick knew Ash could launch himself into action at the slightest provocation.
Dressed in black leather pants, a black T-shirt, and a long, pirate/Colonial style coat, Ash was watching the tourist crowd cut a wide berth around him.
A lethal, dark aura surrounded him. An aura like the one around a wild predator that was both graceful and attractive to behold, but one that let a person know that at any minute they could wind up as lunch.
No one was ever sure how to approach the oldest Dark-Hunter and so most people treated Ash like a visit to the dentist.
In all honesty Nick felt sorry for him. It must be hard to wield so much power and not have anyone to confide in. Ash kept a big distance between him and anyone who would get close to him-both physically and mentally.
Nick tried to treat him just like he would any other guy he hung with and he suspected Ash liked that.
At least he seemed more relaxed around Nick than he did the other Hunters or Squires.
"Look, Mommy, a giant!"
Nick turned to see a little girl around the age of five pointing up at Ash.
Her mother took one look at Ash, gathered her daughter into her arms, and hurried across the street toward the cathedral as fast as her legs would carry her.
Ash waved at the little girl who was still telling her mom to look at him. Poor guy.
Nick closed the distance between them. "You know, if you dressed a little less scary, people might not do that to you."
Pulling his sunglasses low on the bridge of his nose with his forefinger, Ash gave him a wry smile. "Trust me, Nick, it's not the clothes."
He was probably right. Ash had a way about him that was unnaturally intimidating and lethal-kind of like you knew something about Ash wasn't quite human.
Nick noticed Ash had changed hair color. Again. This morning when he'd been at Kyrian's, Ash's hair had been purple. "Back to being black-haired, eh?"
"Back to being annoying, eh?" he quipped.
Nick laughed.
Ash pushed himself away from the wall and picked his black backpack up from the ground. Nick had never known Ash to leave it behind and he'd always been curious about what it contained.
However, he wasn't suicidal enough to try to find out. Ash guarded that bag like a treasured jewel.
"So, how was your test?" Ash asked.
"It sucked. I could have used my microscopic two-way communicator with you. I'm taking Classical Greek civilization with Julian Alexander and he's kicking my ass. That man is one tough drill instructor."
"Yeah, he was never one for nepotism."
Nick inclined his head toward the restaurant, which was only about half full. "Do you mind if I eat while we have this meeting? I skipped lunch to study and now I'm starving."
"Sure," Ash said, then held the door open for him to enter first.
Now that Nick thought about it, Ash did that a lot. He never let anyone get behind him. He always stood with his back to something or kept the crowd in front of him.
His mother would call that a gunfighter's itch. That nervous twitch of someone who expected at any moment to face an unseen attack.
Nick sat at the far end of the bar counter while Ash straddled a stool and kept his back to the wall so that he could watch the diners and the door.
A burly, older bartender came over to them. "What can I get the two of you?" he asked in a deep, hoarse voice.
"Give me a Bud Light," Nick said.
The bartender nodded, then turned to Ash. "What about you?"
"Same."
The bartender narrowed his eyes and gave Ash a thorough once-over. Nick clenched his teeth to keep from smiling. He knew what was coming before the bartender spoke. "You got any ID on you, kid?" he asked Ash.
Nick laughed.
Ash kicked Nick's stool as he fished his mock ID out of his back pocket and handed it to the bartender who studied it very carefully.
"No offense," the bartender said at last, "but with those sunglasses on I can't tell if this is you or not. If you want a beer, kid, you'll have to take them off."
His jaw muscle ticcing, Ash removed his sunglasses.
The bartender cleared his throat as soon as he caught sight of the eerie silver color. "Man, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were blind. Here's your ID."
Nick laughed even harder as the bartender took Ash's hand into his and put the state-issued ID card into it. Ash was the only Dark-Hunter who ever got carded.
As the bartender walked off, Nick couldn't resist teasing Ash. "So, does this make you visibly challenged?"
"No," Ash said, putting his ID back into his pocket, "but if you don't lay off me, I'm going to make you breathing impaired."
Nick sobered. Slowly. "Sorry, it's just funny as hell to me. I love that ID Jamie made for you. Born 1980. Yeah, right. What year were you really born, anyway?"
Ash rubbed his forehead. "9548 B.C."
"Whoa," Nick breathed, impressed by the date. He'd known Ash was old, but this was the first time he'd been told the exact year. "You really are older than dirt."
The bartender returned with their beers. "Are you eating anything?" the bartender asked.
Nick ordered red beans and rice, then returned to their conversation as the bartender ambled off again. "How old does that make you?"
Ash took a drink of beer before answering. "Eleven thousand five hundred and fifty-one years old, and yes, I feel every day of it."
"Wow, I had no idea. Hell, I didn't even know we had people back then."
"Yeah, I was part of the original Bedrock crew who worked in the quarry on the back of dinosaurs and ran with the Flintstones. Barney Rubble was short, but he played a good game of stone-knuckle."
Nick snorted, then laughed. He really did like Ash even though the guy was extremely strange. "So, why am I here?"
"I wanted to talk to you in a place where I knew Kyrian couldn't overhear us."
"Okay, why?"
Before Ash could answer, a tall brunette knockout with long, shapely legs and wearing a very short black skirt walked up to the bar beside them. She glanced at Nick disinterestedly, then she placed an elegant, manicured hand against Ash's chest, stood on her tiptoes and whispered in Ash's ear.
He gave her a kind smile. "I appreciate it, love, but I'm involved with someone."
The brunette pouted and handed Ash a business card. "You change your mind, let me know. I promise, I don't bite."
"Yeah, but I do," Ash said under his breath as she walked off.
Nick wasn't sure he'd heard that so he chose to ignore Ash's hushed comment as the bartender brought his food.
"You know," he said to Ash, "that's so not fair. I don't understand how it is you dress like a freak and still women want to do you."
Ash turned his head and gave him an amused smirk. "When you got it, you got it."
"Yeah, but it's seriously annoying to those of us who want it. The least you could do is share." Nick took a bite of food. "Who are you involved with anyway?"
Ash didn't answer. He never did. "Back to our discussion. The reason you're here is that I need your help to break the news to Kyrian that Valerius is in New Orleans."
Nick choked on his bread. "Oh, like hell."
"Nick, this is serious. Sooner or later they will cross paths and I want both him and Julian prepared for it. If, Zeus forbid, one of them kills Val, Artemis will have free rein to go after them. I don't want to see either one of them suffer or die. They have wives and kids who need them."
Nick wiped his mouth and swallowed. "What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to back me up. Help me convince Kyrian that he doesn't need to extract revenge on Valerius."
Nick let out a tired breath as he raked his plastic fork through the beans. That was something that was much easier said than done. "You're asking a lot of me, Ash. Personally, I'd like to help him beat the crap out of that arrogant bastard."
"Nicholas Ambrosius Gautier, you watch your language!"
Nick jerked around at the sound of his mother's melodic Cajun drawl. She stood behind him with the Nick-you're-in-trouble-buster scowl on her face. At forty, she looked a lot younger and had her long blond hair put up in a bun. Dressed in jeans and a blue sweater, she would have been very attractive if she weren't his mother.
Ash moved Nick's beer closer to him.
His mother clucked her tongue at Ash. "Now don't you be covering for him, Ash." She wagged her finger at Nick. "Are you driving?"
"No, Mom, I'm sitting."
"Don't get smart with me. You know what I mean."