The Gravedigger's Brawl (9 page)

Noah pushed his Cheetos bag aside and leaned forward over the table. “You really liked him?”

Wyatt met his eyes.

“And I don't mean you really liked fucking him, 'cause I can see how that would be fun for both of you. I mean you liked
him
.”

Wyatt swallowed hard, and thought about the hours he and Ash had spent talking that night before they had ever gone the step further. Wyatt had been comfortable with him even in the middle of a crowded, rowdy gaslight bar. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” Noah nodded and sat for a while, studying Wyatt. “Well, you're a bit of a dumbass. And it probably won't work anyway 'cause Ash doesn't seem the type to take shit from many people. But if you're serious, I might be able to talk to him. Convince him it would be a favor to me to help out on this, get you two to spend some more time together. Without fucking!” he said, pointing his finger in Wyatt's face.

“Deal.”

Noah sat back and nodded. “And I'll ask Caleb tonight about any ghost story type things he or his crew might know.”

Wyatt raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Tonight, huh?”

To Wyatt's surprise, Noah blushed. He shrugged and shifted in his seat and grinned. “We may have really hit it off.”

It was so rare to see Noah being coy, Wyatt was tempted to prod for more details just to watch him squirm.

But then Noah glared. “Unlike you, however, we didn't fall into bed together quite so hastily. You slut.”

“Couch and floor still count as falling into bed together.”

“Shut up.” Noah gathered his Cheetos and stood. “I'll meet you at the staff door at five, okay? Quit looking at me like that! Go do your job!”

Wyatt chuckled as Noah walked away. He didn't have much hope of Ash changing his mind, but the mere prospect was enough to get him through the rest of the day.

At ten minutes to five, he stood outside the staff entrance, basking in the weak warmth of the sun as he waited for Noah to show. Roughly fifteen minutes after five, Noah came tumbling out of the building, the strap of his leather satchel snug against his chest and his hands full of papers, his coat, his umbrella, and another large black bag.

“What is all this?” Wyatt asked as Noah piled some of the things into his arms and grunted in greeting.

“I did some preliminary research,” he said as he dug in Wyatt's pocket for his car keys.

“Hey!” Wyatt twisted away from Noah's groping hand. “Private property, asshole.”

“That's not the current rumor, you whore.”

“Shut up,” Wyatt laughed. Noah snagged his keys and nodded at Wyatt's car.

“Let's stash this shit in your backseat. Does that stupid freaking tin can even
have
a back seat?”

“Yes.” They trekked over to the staff parking lot where Wyatt's car sat in the space reserved for the head curator. They stacked all the files Noah had been carrying in the backseat, and then Noah hefted his satchel into it as well. His coat and umbrella went next, and then he set the black bag down on the trunk and unzipped it.

Wyatt peered over the car at Noah's bowed head. “What's that?”

“Camera.” Noah grunted as he extracted a large SLR digital camera and inserted a memory card. “Signed it out for research.”

“Nice.”

“I know, I'm a freaking genius.” Noah straightened back up and slammed the car door. “You ready?”

Wyatt eyed the tailored shirt Noah was wearing. “Did you change?”

Noah flushed. “Had an incident in the preservation room.” He jerked his head and turned to start walking.

“We could just drive,” Wyatt said as he jogged around the car to catch up.

“Yes, but this way you have more time to think about what you're going to say when we get there.”

“True.” He grinned slyly at Noah. “Is Caleb going to be there?”

Noah smiled. “Maybe.”

Wyatt plucked at the shirt Noah had changed into. Only when he was lecturing did he wear nice clothing like that. “That why you look good?”

Noah huffed but shook his head. “I really did have a spill. Even got all over my shoes.” He pointed down at feet; his boots were stained dark on the toes. “This was all I had in my office.” He stopped short and turned. “Should I change? I mean, I could go home and get—”

“Noah.” Wyatt took Noah's arm. “You look good, you don't need to change. Wow, you really like this guy, huh?”

Noah flashed a silly grin. “Yeah.”

Wyatt smiled, but he soon began thinking about Ash and the look in his eyes when Wyatt had tried to apologize. The exasperation and the annoyance, the way Ash had so easily shrugged it all off as a non-event. What if he'd been able to write it off without angst because he didn't care? What if he'd been relieved that Wyatt had been gone when he'd woken and really was just pissed about the plumbing?

Wyatt slowed to a stop. Noah continued on for a few feet before he realized Wyatt had dropped back, and he turned to look at him questioningly.

“I don't think I can do this,” Wyatt said.

Noah nodded in understanding and walked back beside him. He reached up and smacked Wyatt on the side of the head. “Did you leave your balls in his toilet too?”

“Ow! What? No!”

“Then get the lead out, Case,” Noah said as he grabbed Wyatt's elbow and began pulling him along.

“I hate you.”

“I hate you too.”

When they got to Gravedigger's, the patio out front where the porch had once been was already full of laughing patrons. Several dogs were tied to the iron fence, sitting with their masters as they ate. The festive lights strung over the patio acted as a ceiling of sorts, and were already on and winking in the shade of the building.

Wyatt hesitated, but Noah, unyielding, dragged him to the door and shoved him unceremoniously inside. It wasn't as crowded as the patio. People were probably trying to drain the last dregs of warmth out of the day. The show in here was impressive, though.

Ash hadn't changed his clothing since Wyatt had seen him that morning, but he looked different. The heavy eyeliner was back, accenting his dark eyes, and his wavy hair had been gelled, appearing jet black and perpetually wet. Ryan was dressed similarly, right down to the suspenders and tight white undershirt, and they were both standing on top of the bar, juggling bottles of alcohol and tossing them back and forth to each other in perilous arcs.

Wyatt stood gaping as he realized that not only were they tossing the bottles around, but they were also mixing drinks as they did it. The music that played along with them was so loud that Wyatt felt it more than heard it as a steady, rhythmic beat in the pit of his stomach. It had a distinctly Old World Gypsy feel to it, very fitting as the crowd clapped in rhythm, watching in awe as the bartenders performed what was essentially a circus act.

“Wonder why they're doing this today?” Noah shouted to Wyatt over the noise.

“I don't know. Ash said they only flair on weekends. Maybe they're practicing for that big tournament they're going to.” Wyatt shrugged. “Well hell, we're not going to get to talk to them like this.”

“They can't do that forever.”

Wyatt had yet to take his eyes off the two men. Noah was right. It was all very athletic and involved. Surely they couldn't go for more than a few minutes at a time.

Caleb, who was standing behind the bar, tossed a new bottle into the air at Ryan's waist, and Ryan caught it, juggling three bottles so high that they almost grazed the ceiling. All three bottles were open, Wyatt realized, but somehow they didn't spill as Ryan tossed them around. They seemed to have mastered the angles and the centrifugal force it required. Wyatt was beyond impressed.

Ash began tossing the glasses he had been juggling at Ryan, and Ryan tossed his bottles at Ash. The bottles spun in slow circles, and the lights caught the cuts of the heavy highball glasses. They mixed as they juggled, somehow managing to pour the liquor as they held the bottles in odd places: the crook of an elbow, sitting atop a shoulder. Ryan caught the first glass and then tossed it to Caleb, who caught it without ever turning it upside down. The next glass Ryan caught and held in his left hand as he tossed the last bottle to Ash.

In the end, Ash was juggling all three bottles and Ryan was holding two glasses of amber liquid. Ash caught the bottles and held them all in one arm like a pageant winner would hold a bouquet of flowers, and Ryan tossed him a glass. He caught it, and they turned in unison, holding up the glasses triumphantly, and then all three men kicked back the shots that had been poured and bowed.

The little crowd cheered. Noah and Wyatt stood staring in patent disbelief as Ash and Ryan climbed down off the bar.

“That's inhuman,” Noah said as the music died down and returned to the slower, more intimate tunes Wyatt remembered from the other night.

“There's got to be a trick to it,” Wyatt said. He was reminded of the Thurston poster in his office. He wondered if Ryan and Ash were using the same sleight of hand that the master magicians had used.

“Still pretty cool,” Noah said as he began making his way to the bar.

Wyatt hesitated, dreading the look on Ash's face when he saw him. Finally, he sucked it up and followed, figuring he deserved what he might get.

Noah knocked on the scarred wood of the bar and got Caleb's attention.

“Hello, lad,” Caleb said, smiling warmly as he walked up and leaned his hands on the bar. They greeted each other with the sort of flirtatious intimacy of a new couple. Wyatt looked away to give them some privacy.

“What can I get you?” Caleb asked as he nodded in greeting to Wyatt.

Wyatt smiled uncomfortably, wondering if Ash had told his friends what had happened.

“We want information,” Noah growled.

Caleb laughed and inclined his head, waiting for Noah to explain.

“We're prepared to bribe.”

“Now, that's interesting.” Caleb smirked. “What sort of information? And more importantly, what sort of bribe?”

Noah leaned in closer, telling Caleb what they were thinking with the museum exhibit as Wyatt looked around for Ash. He'd disappeared after hopping off the bar. He saw Ryan, though, who waved at him and smiled as he made his way through the thinning crowd. Delilah was there too, delivering food and taking orders.

Ryan shouted as he got closer. “Hey, Wyatt. How are you? You come to see Ash? He's out on the patio whoring himself for tips.” He shook Wyatt's hand and patted his shoulder distractedly. “Good to see you, man. Talk later.” He stepped away and slid through the little swinging door that let him behind the bar.

Wyatt snorted in amusement. A hand came to rest on the small of his back as someone slid by him, and Wyatt turned to find Ash standing right beside him.

“Hey,” Wyatt managed to say, though his heart had just jumped into his throat.

“Back for more, Dr. Case?” Ash asked in a flat, low voice that still managed to carry through the noise.

“Yeah . . . I mean no!” Wyatt said, flustered as he got a close-up look at Ash. The kohl around his eyes was an amazing way to enhance them. Wyatt had never thought he would find such a thing attractive. The tips of Ash's gelled hair looked like they could probably pierce armor, but it somehow suited him. “I mean . . . sort of.”

Ash met his eyes, looking like he was fighting a smile.

“Hey, Ash,” Caleb said before Wyatt could stutter through any sort of explanation. “Tell these two what happened to you this morning.”

Ash looked between Wyatt and Noah. “Why?”

“They're researching ghosts.”

Ash peered at Wyatt again, and when Wyatt shrugged, Ash walked around Noah and stepped behind the bar to stand beside Caleb. “You want ghost stories?”

“What happened to you this morning?” Noah asked.

“Nothing,” Ash huffed curtly as he picked up a clean towel and draped it over his shoulder. “Why are you asking us?” he asked without looking at Wyatt.

“We were thinking about taking the ghost tour to get some ideas,” Noah answered. “We were wondering if maybe you guys knew some stories or something to tide us over.”

Ash turned to Wyatt. “You're running with the ghosts and legends idea?”

“We'll make it worthy.”

Ash pursed his lips. Beside Wyatt, Noah smirked and pulled himself closer to the men on the other side of the bar. “We'd be more likely to make it worthy if we had help. You're a Child of the Night, right?”

Ash glanced at him and snorted in amusement. “Extortionist.”

“You know it.”

“Child of the Night?” Ash added.

“What?”

“Children of the Night are prostitutes and vampires, numbnuts.”

“Oh.”

Ash moved out from behind the bar again. “Come on,” he said with a long-suffering sigh as he headed for the kitchen.

“Well it sounded all . . . gothy,” Noah said to Caleb before turning.

Caleb grinned. Wyatt couldn't help but smile as he followed.