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“I’ll show you.”
He led her into the bedroom and she stared at the mess. Confused and concerned, she walked carefully around the remains of the bed, face tight with worry. When her eyes finally flicked upward, he watched with some satisfaction as she did a full double take, then stared.
“Huh,” she said after a long moment, “so dragons have horns?”
The ceiling was dented, a large dimple in the plaster about the size of a football. The apartment didn’t exactly have high ceilings, but even so, Griffen would normally have to stand on his bed to touch it. What was more worrying was a series of small punctures, as if several objects had punched right through. Bits of flaked plaster fell even as they watched.
“You don’t think you really?” Valerie said, still looking upward.
“I don’t know, what else could have happened?”
“I don’t know…this is more than a little freaky, Big Brother.”
“I would have said frightening, maybe terrifying, but freaky works. Thank god I was in bed alone.”
Valerie shook her head, finally looking back at her brother. He seemed no worse for wear, though his eyes were just a little too wide. Considering how little he usually showed, that was enough for her. She put an arm around him and hugged him tight to her.
“Poor wittle brother had a nightmare?” she teased, trying to lighten his mood.
“Actually no, it was kinda fun. I still don’t understand why that last moment spooked me so.”
“Well, I’ll say this, you need to work on your control. Imagine if you were flirting with Fox Lisa in the bar and suddenly your emotions triggered another change. You might split your pants!”
Griffen, startled, jerked his head toward his sister. Even his control couldn’t stop the smirk that spread to his lips. She thought for a second about what she had just said, and promptly cuffed her brother on the back of the head.
“I meant with a tail!” she said.
“Sure you did, Sis.”
“You’re sick sometimes, and I’m going back to bed!”
She stomped off, slamming his door behind her. Griffen hadn’t seen his sister blush in years. It was almost worth having to replace the bed.
Forty-two
For couples, especially young couples, there are few places in the world that can compare with New Orleans. Depending on where one looks, a fledgling romance could find the elegance of any Paris street, the exclusivity of the New York club, or even the hint of dingy danger found in the London Underground. And that was just in the Quarter. No matter what one’s tastes, it could be found in New Orleans. Besides, while looking, a pair was almost certain to find a few surprises.
It was now many days, and dates, from when she had first introduced Nathaniel to her brother, and Valerie and Nathaniel were following their ears. Drifting from street to street, stopping by the doors of bars and clubs to scope out the music inside. There wasn’t a manager in town who didn’t try and pipe at least some of their music into the streets. It was a more guaranteed way of getting bodies in the door than any club barker.
They had met at a jazz club on the corner of Bourbon and St. Peter. The prices on the drinks had surprised Valerie, even with the lack of a cover. Though the music was absolutely amazing, it was also competing with the hard rock cover band across the street. When Nathaniel noticed that her tapping foot was in time with the music outside the club, he left generous tips for the waitress and the band and eased her out the door.
The quality and variety was astounding as always. In just a few blocks they had sampled an Irish trio that kept trying to one-up each other; a blues singer who had to have weighed three times the couple put together; and a solo female singer with a deep raspy voice. And those were only the ones they had stopped in to listen to for an extended period. The last was the most fun, at least as far as conversation was concerned.
“She has to be a guy,” Valerie said.
“I hate to disagree, but she isn’t.”
Nathaniel shook his head, and was silently glad they had grabbed one of the back booths. Valerie’s voice tended to carry, even when they weren’t trying to talk over music. The subject of their discussion was blissfully unaware of it all. She was in her own world, and happily butchering a show tune beyond recognition.
“Don’t defend him; I didn’t say it was a bad drag job,” Valerie said.
“That is because it isn’t a drag job. Just because she has a somewhat rough voice…”
“That voice could grind glass into powder.”
“Lots of women have deep voices.”
“And more men.”
“I am amazed you haven’t gotten us thrown out of somewhere by our ears by now.”
“I haven’t been trying to. Would you like me to?”
Valerie gave a sly smile over her drink, and Nathaniel returned it, with only a momentary roll of his eyes. The song ended and the singer took a long drag on her cigarette, and then started up on the next. Valerie winced and thought about leaving, she actually liked this song. Still, the conversation wasn’t done.
“It isn’t the voice so much,” she said. “It’s the jaw you could open walnuts with and the calves of a none too fit horse.”
“You’re just defensive because she’s taller than you.”
“Oh, now you are in for it, buster.”
“Promises promises. In this town it is ridiculous to wonder, we will just wander down to the clubs where you are guaranteed to be right.”
“Tempting, but no. Let’s wander back to see if the Irish guys have started brawling yet.”
“Oh, no, you are not going back to flirt with the band again. Bad enough you got them dueling onstage.”
“Little ol’ me?”
“Little?”
Valerie reached under the table and pinched his ribs. Nathaniel returned the favor, and then was out of his seat and moving toward the door before she could retaliate. She followed, sweet murder in her eye, and they hit the streets again.
Valerie bounced through the Quarter with the curiosity of a kitten and the energy of a puppy. It was all Nathaniel could do to keep up, but his smile never faded. If anything, as she became happier and more enthralled with the evening, he seemed to relax and go with the flow more and more.
Finally she decided it was time for a rest, and they paused in one of the quieter bars. The band, most likely a cover group from their general appearance and instruments, were taking a brief break. The couple found seats at the end of the bar and ordered drinks. Valerie leaned past Nathaniel to snag a bowl of bar peanuts, and he was enjoying the view too much to comment.
“Hey, Val!”
The voice came from behind her, and startled she froze for a minute, still outstretched. She tried to regain some dignity, pulling the bowl back and smoothing her hands down her sides before turning around. Coming toward her from the direction of the stage was Kid Blue.
“Valerie McCandles! You finally got around to coming to hear me play,” he said.
“Well, of course I did,” Valerie covered. “I said I would, didn’t I?”
“Why, Valerie, you didn’t tell me a friend of yours worked in this club,” Nathaniel said smiling.
Valerie tossed him a warning glare, and if anything his smile widened.
“I wasn’t sure he was playing tonight, but thought we should check,” she said.
Kid Blue looked from one to the other, and his face clouded a bit with disappointment and confusion. He shrugged it off.
“Hey, let me get you two some drinks.”
“No need,” Nathaniel said. “I’ve already picked up this round.”
“Then the next is on me, hear that?”
The bartender nodded to Kid Blue and put out empty cups to mark the next round bought. Nathaniel nodded and stuck out his hand.
“I’m Nathaniel by the way, and yourself?”
“Kid Blue.”
The two shook hands, and held the contact looking over each other.