[Fic] Blood Rites (3/3)

[kittydesade]

Title: Blood Rites (Part 3 of 3) (Part 1, Part 2)
Fandom: Blood Ties (TV)
Characters: Henry Fitzroy, Mike Cellucci, Vicki Nelson, Coreen Fennel
Word Count: 16,798
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Corinne encounters a half-dead fae noble outside of a night-club and, with the best of intentions, brings him to Vicki as a client. The fae is less than grateful, Vicki is less than enthusiastic, but the case she uncovers leads to the possible return of the faerie realms and threatens the modern human world. Stopping the potential Unseelie incursion will take all the skill and energies the three of them can bring to bear, but it also binds them closer as a result.
A/N: Written for polybigbang. Cover art here by the lovely and talented chosenfire28

Henry lay on the cold concrete with stars in his vision. Shook his head to clear his ears of the ringing, wondering to himself when he had wandered into the Raymond Chandler novel. It was a device he'd used in his own graphic novels, but it wasn't supposed to save the day in real-world situations. Although, honestly, someone walking in with a gun and inclination to save your life could be a good thing, sometimes. Everyone stopped. Nicodemus stopped trying to get up, the battalion of pixies or boggarts or whatever stopped trying to coordinate attacks, and the Red Caps stopped trying to kill them. Which was a big bonus, in his books.

He twisted his head just enough to be able to see behind them. Hopefully, not enough movement to draw the attention of the murderous bastards trying to kill them. Detective Cellucci blocked the light from the stairwell down to the building, a very large revolver in his hand. "I've died," Henry muttered, "Somehow I've died again and gone to mystery novel hell."

"Don't be so dramatic," Vicki murmured in his ear. "It's easier to find a high-iron content revolver than a semi-automatic, and if he runs out of bullets he can always hit them with it."

Well, that made sense.

"Now, here's what we're going to do," Mike said, in his best talk-down-the-psycho voice. Henry had wondered, once, if all policemen practiced that voice or if it just came naturally to him. "You all are going to put down the sword... axe… things... and you're going to go back to where you came from. We are going to take the vampire, the bird brain, and..."

Vicki pointed.

"Your guy Friday, there, and we're going to leave. No one's going to shoot anyone else with cold iron rounds. No one's going to be doing any stabbing, or slicing, or any hurting of any kind. You got it?"

No one spoke.

"You guys speak English?"

Henry rolled his eyes. "Detective, they were speaking English before your grandparents were crawling on the Villa floor."

Mike said something to him in undoubtedly rude Italian and kept the gun pointed at the Red Caps. It had to be getting heavy in his hand, a revolver that size with bullets like that, but he stood there, still and straight. Vicki's fingers curled into Henry's shirt and clenched tight. Henry could hear and count her heartbeats.

"Henry." Mike drawled, when no one had said anything. "Get up."

Vicki tugged him to his feet as Henry staggered upright, almost resulting in the both of them toppling over to the other side. As quickly as the rush of energy had arrived it had left, and now he was scrambling to muster his resources.

"Detective," he rasped, through exhaustion and Hunger both. "I suggest we leave. As much as I would like to stay and assist..." He couldn't see the faerie. There was a black shadow on the floor between the legs of the creatures; maybe that was Nicodemus. He didn't know. "... we are clearly ... not of any use to this situation."

Out of their depth, was what he meant, and what Vicki and Mike at least heard. If the other faeries on the rooftop heard that, too, they gave no sign. Which was good. Henry did not mean to betray weakness to them, and had to fight to bring together enough focus to arrange his words in the strongest possible way.

"You should never have been involved in the first place."

That voice rumbled out between the legs of the trolls, higher than the heads of the boggarts. He wasn't sure what it was, not a Red Cap, that strange thatched hat was missing from the head of the creature that walked out. Similar gray skin, but different. Wild hair, and whirling red on gold eyes. Autumn colored eyes.

"If you leave now, you will leave alive, and intact." There was a smile with lots of pointed teeth. Henry wondered with brief irritation why it was always lots of teeth, and resolved to make his next villain have no teeth whatsoever.

Henry pulled himself straighter, pulling Vicki with him as well. "Are we to trust your word on that?" It didn't sound likely that they would be allowed to leave; backing off or backing down at least without a word would be seen as weak.

"You have no choice. You will leave, or you will die with this half-breed here." It kicked the man on the ground, who didn't stir. Henry's eyes narrowed. There was blood on the man's scalp, likely his own. "My people have not waited so long to be disappointed now."

Henry had been hoping for a continuation to that, but it stopped after the one ominous statement. No monologue, no treatise, no explanation of what was meant to happen or what kind of sacrifice they would be made a part of if they stayed. Mike's arm was lowering. His arm must be killing him.

"Do not interfere again," it said, and turned back to the unconscious faeries. Nicodemus in the process of being dragged by the nameless Prince, and the man himself still sprawled on the ground. Henry's lips peeled back in a silent snarl. He might not have liked or approved of Nicodemus, but the fae creature was a client of Vicki's, and therefore entitled to some measure of protection.

Which Henry couldn't give, as weakened as he was now. "Celluci..." he murmured.

"No," Mike gritted through a clenched jaw. "Get her out of here. I'll be right..."

Henry opened his mouth to argue, as the leading faerie raised its head to give them enough notice to tell them off again. Then there was a flurry of black feathers.

The impact of the gray creature's body hitting the opposite wall jolted even Henry's teeth. Bones crunched. It was debatable whether or not that would do any permanent damage given that they had just seen Nicodemus pull a crossbow bolt out of his chest, but the raven-headed man followed it up by rising in a poof-ball of black feathers and fists, laying about him with more crushing blows.

Henry was in mid-sentence when Mike's gun first went off. He shook his head in irritation at the man, trying to make the ringing in his ears stop. By the time it did, the fight was over. At least, the majority portion of it.

Nicodemus was standing over the fallen Prince with his feathers all a-ruffle and a very large, very thorny whip in his hands. No one asked where he'd pulled that from.

"..." Vicki said. Henry still could barely hear her.

"What?"

"I said..." Louder than normal volume, but his hearing was returning. "Are you all right?"

"No. Your detective..."

Mike glared at him.

"... shot a very large gun next to my head. No, I am not all right. What is going on?"

Vicki looked back at the tableau. Most of the faeries had scattered. "Far as I can tell, Nicodemus just kicked everyone's asses. With a little help from his friends," she added, one hand coming up to caress Mike's shoulder with a proud smile. Henry would have been more inclined to agree if his ears weren't still ringing.

Ah well. He looked around again. It was down to just the five of them.

"What will you do now?"

Nicodemus looked down at the unconscious man and clacked his beak a couple of times in irritation. "None of this happened by chance, and we only saw the pawns, as I believe you call them. The red caps, the boggarts, they are soldiers for hire. I don't know what is going on in my court any longer, but I will need to make my own way back and report to my liege."

Mike spoke up, surprising everyone. "Turning in the schmuck here could get you a lot of credit with the people in power, as I understand it."

Another clack of his beak, and he shook his head, feathers ruffling. "I will not. I am not inclined to trade this man's safety for my own. I am not blind to the games of the court, though I had believed myself more valuable to my King than it seems I was. That does not mean that I enjoy playing them, or that I will return to those habits, given a choice." None of them were certain that he did have a choice, but Henry didn't hear anyone speaking out. "I will do the best I can with what credit I still have. With regards to your concerns," he nodded to Vicki, "I will see what can be done. I can promise no more than that, not even that I will survive the coming months."

Everyone kept staring. Vicki took a step forward, folding her arms over her chest. "It doesn't sound like you think you're going to."

Nicodemus smiled, or what approximated a smile on him. "Good luck, to all of you."

Mike blinked, shook his head at empty air, and swore again. "I really hate when you people do that."



"I do not, by the way, do that as often as you seem to accuse me of."

They were watching, at Vicki's insistence, A Midsummer Night's Dream. The more recent version. Henry was making appreciative noises every time Demetrius came on the screen, which amused Vicki and caused Mike to ask, halfway through the movie, if Henry wanted to be alone for the rest of it. Henry only commented back of it if Mike wanted to take advantage of his interest all he had to do was ask.

"You do." He reached behind Vicki and shoved at the vampire's shoulder, though it was more of a friendly gesture. In the spirit of that, Henry tapped Vicki's leg, who elbowed Mike in turn. "Ow! Hey!"

"Do what?" Henry wasn't the only one distracted by the movie.

"That disappearing thing. That whole," Mike waved his hands a bit, "one minute here the next minute gone thing. Vanishing before your eyes. It's annoying."

Vicki dug her shoulders further back into Mike's chest, snuggling down and digging her heel into the outside of Henry's thigh. "You do," she told Henry. "You do do it pretty often, you know. But Mike was wrong about the whole you people thing."

Both men stared at her, not having the first idea what she was talking about. She didn't elaborate, either. They looked up at each other, exchanged a glance, and shook their heads. Mike combed his fingers through her hair, mostly because it was better than listening to Henry and her discuss that actor who was playing Demetrius. Shakespeare wasn't his thing, that much, anyway. But curling up on the couch after a long day and a really weird case seemed like exactly what he needed. Even if the damn vampire was on the other side of her.

Actually, the damn vampire was starting to grow on him.

"Vicki?" The movie was almost over. Vicki had stopped talking, had mostly stopped moving except for shifting her position here and there. He looked over at Henry, who shook his head.

"She's asleep," he mouthed at him.

Probably a good thing. None of them had gotten very much sleep in the last few days.

"You should sleep, as well."

Mike grumbled something deliberately inaudible, at least until the last couple of words when he remembered that Henry had that damn vampire hearing. After another second he dared to look up, to see the other man's expression. Henry was grinning.

"Don't get excited," he pointed a finger at Henry. "That doesn't mean anything."

"On the contrary. It means a great deal, detective." It did. But that didn't mean Henry wasn't grinning at the sheer hilarity of it all, Mike's embarrassment, everything. "Thank you."

"Henry. You're sleeping with my girlfriend,"

"Our. Our girlfriend."

That still struck him as weird. He ignored it. "You could at least call me by my name once or twice. You keep calling me that, makes me feel like I'm a hooker or something."

Henry turned away, which alarmed Mike only until he saw the other man burying his face in the side of the couch, shoulders shaking with laughter. He shook his head, reaching around to smack the vampire the head with a pillow. Henry blocked it, of course. Stupid vampire reflexes. Or maybe he had a point about Mike being tired. His aim was worse than it could have been.

"Yeah, well. If we move, we'll wake her up."

"No we won't."

Mike narrowed his eyes at the other man. "Did you put the whammy on her?"

"I didn't need to. She was exhausted, just as you are." To prove his point, Henry eased out from beneath her feet and moved to the loveseat collect the blanket and throw it over her. Mike took his time inching out from beneath her and following his lead, at least until Henry caught her around and behind her shoulders and at the back of her head, easing her down while Mike moved away. Henry had been right. She didn't move, didn't say anything. Didn't wake up. After another few minutes of both of them staring at her, she began to snore.

"Come on," Henry reached out to Mike, resting a hand on the back of his shoulder. "Let's go to bed."

He was with him right up until Henry had said that. "Don't do that." He shook his hand off his shoulder.

Henry's face darkened, just slightly. "Sorry."

That hadn't been what Mike had expected. Anger, maybe, yes, but not disappointment. Not hurt. "Don't say that like we're, you know." He said, his tone gruff and his words stuttering from uncertainty. "We're not. I don't swing that way, and even if I did, you're not my type."

"Do you think that's what matters?" Henry moved around the coffee table Mike realized he had put between the two of them, but didn't step up into Mike's personal space. "Is that why you and Vicki were together, because she is your type? Type may carry an attraction but it is not what makes a relationship."

"Is that we have?" For some reason this answer was important. Then again, so was the question. Huh.

Henry shrugged. Stared at Mike. If he wanted an answer before he gave one, that wasn't going to happen. Mike was uncomfortable enough with the conversation already. But then again, the way he was staring at him was kind of an answer in and of itself. You didn't get that kind of intensity without... well, in Henry's case, being a few hundred years old. But also without caring about someone. Mike wasn't sure how to take that. Except, he didn't mean to hurt the old bastard. He kind of liked him, in fact. In ways that also made him uncomfortable, and that he wasn't looking at too closely yet.

Mike shook his head and dropped his gaze. "Never mind. Stupid question. Forget I asked."

Henry nodded, and moved towards his coat.

"Hey. Where are you going?"

The vampire gave him an inquiring stare.

"Well," Mike made himself say, "I'm going to bed. You coming or not?"

Henry wouldn't push the boundaries. He knew how uncomfortable Mike was with all this. So he wouldn't push, not yet. But Henry was growing on him, and they had to get along for Vicki's sake at least, and the guy was a good friend. Mike knew he had his back. He'd never really been against that way of life, it just wasn't his thing. But apparently, at least according to Henry, relationships weren't about things at all. Henry had been a part of Vicki's life more and more the past few weeks. A part of his life, too. He thought back to the night a few nights ago, realized how it had been actually pretty damn nice once he'd finally relaxed.

That didn't mean he wasn't a little freaked out by this, but it nudged him to sling an arm around the shorter man's shoulders and steer them towards the bedroom. "Sleep. I'm going to sleep. So don't you go getting your hopes up."

Henry chuckled, and the pressure eased a little. "Not this first night, anyway."