Irregulars: Stories by Nicole Kimberling, Josh Lanyon, Ginn Hale and Astrid Amara (70 page)

Henry folded the card back closed.

He contemplated his meal, Jason’s favorite, the kimchi burrito. He took a bite and found that it tasted odd but good. In spite of himself he wondered if Jason missed it. More than likely he’d discovered something far more exquisite and less messy among the elegant sidhe.

“Jason! Is that you?” the Hispanic cashier called out in delight. “Oh my God, honey, you look great!”

Henry looked up.

And there Jason stood, dressed in a gray army jacket, black T-shirt, and jeans that fit him just right. The cashier grinned at his bronze skin and striking, angular features. He’d always been this handsome. Now with the anonymity spell worn away people were free to take note.

Jason smiled back at the cashier, a friendly, genuine smile. Then he turned and surveyed the crowd of customers at the counter and tables.

Henry met his gaze because it would have been childish to look away. Jason stared hard and too long at him—as if he were attempting to pin Henry to his seat with just the power of his dark eyes.

The cashier gave a little cough. Jason returned his attention to her, ordering his usual and making small talk about the money he’d recently come into and the vacation he’d been on.

Henry tried to pick out Jason’s security detail. But either they were invisible even beyond Henry’s sensing or no one had Jason’s back. The thought disturbed Henry deeply.

“But you’re back in town now?” the cashier asked hopefully.

“Yeah, I’m back,” Jason stated firmly.

Henry thought it was a little mean for Jason to kid with her like that, but then Jason probably didn’t realize how easy it would be for her to get taken with him.

A moment later, Jason strode to Henry’s table.

“You can be a very difficult man to find,” Jason told him.

“Yeah, well.” Henry shrugged, feeling suddenly self-conscious under Jason’s scrutiny. “I don’t like to get underfoot.”

“No, you leave your cat to do that.” He placed his order of fries and his kimchi burrito on the table and very deliberately took the seat next to Henry. “She’s fine, by the way.”

Henry nodded. He’d known Jason would treat her well.

“Does NIAD know you’re here?” Henry instinctively lowered his voice.

“Why? Do you want to see my travel visa and diplomatic passport before I can sit down and eat with you?” When Henry didn’t respond, Jason shook his head and said, “Yes, they know. I’m all cleared, paid up, and legal.”

Henry nodded, but the absence of security still worried him. Unless Jason had slipped away from them for a reason.

“So why did you come here?” Henry asked quietly.

“Because you’re here,” Jason replied. He picked up a bottle of sriracha hot sauce and squeezed it out over his fries. “I’ve really missed this stuff, you know.”

“As I recall there wasn’t much hot sauce in Tuatha Dé Dannan Islands.”

“None.” Jason ate a couple fries, then looked up at Henry. “You’re watching me like you think I’m about to sprout a second head.”

“I’m just waiting to find out why you’re here,” Henry told him. He could imagine too easily the kind of trouble that might drive Jason to seek him out. Nobles infuriated by Jason’s reforms. Revolutionaries too long invested in bringing down the throne. There were any number of reasons that Jason might need a man with Henry’s skills. “Is there someone you need dealt with?”

“What?” Jason frowned at him. “No. What are you talking about?”

“Your kingdom,” Henry stated.

Jason just shook his head.

“It’s not mine anymore. We’re now officially a constitutional monarchy. As of—” Jason checked his watch. “Three hours ago.”

“Are you shitting me?” Henry stared at Jason.

“I shit you not, sir,” Jason replied with an easy smile. “Princess Easnadh Naomh took office as prime minister last week and the parliament held its first session yesterday. I have to return once a year to maintain the throne and pick up my stipend, but otherwise I’m out of that place.”

“But you’re the high king.” Henry didn’t think he’d ever heard of anything so crazy. Who just walked away from that much power and wealth? And what bunch of idiots let someone like Jason go?  

“No, I’m a musician like my father before me,” Jason stated firmly. “I wasn’t brought up to be a king and I don’t want to be king. I know next to nothing about governing a nation.”

“But what about your family, your mother?” Henry didn’t miss the brief scowl that tugged at Jason’s mouth.

“Princess Easnadh Naomh would have roasted and eaten me as an newborn if her lady-in-waiting hadn’t secreted me off to her mortal lover. She told me as much to my face. Not exactly the mothering type.” Jason shook his head. “Though I think I actually liked her honesty better than all the bowing, scraping, and ass kissing of the courtiers. Even if it was my ass getting kissed.”

“I don’t know. I recall that you didn’t mind when I kissed your ass.” Henry couldn’t help the remark; it had just been too easy and he wanted to cheer Jason.

Jason colored and Henry hid his smirk behind a sip of coffee.

“I did like it,” Jason admitted. “I’d like more and I think you would too.”

Henry almost choked on his coffee. Were they really going to have this conversation here?

Jason continued, “I just don’t understand why—after everything we’d been through—you left me.”

Apparently, they were going to have this conversation, Henry realized, because Jason’s tone was too sincere, his expression too hurt for Henry to just pass the whole thing off as a joke.

 “I left because I’d done what I’d come to do,” Henry told him.

“And offering yourself up in my place?” Jason asked and Henry could see the hurt in his face, though he kept his tone steady. “Was that just part of the job? Was sleeping with me?”

“No,” Henry told him, but Jason just bowed his head and scowled at his food.

Henry wished he could find the right words to make Jason happy—to make him understand. But Henry had never been good at talking—not like this.

 He reached out and placed his rough, callused hand on top of Jason’s. What the hell did he care if a few gawkers saw them? Jason lifted his gaze to him questioningly.

“Look, I’m probably going to screw this up, but just…just hear me out, okay?”

“Okay,” Jason agreed.

“I’m no good with lovers. I haven’t been since—” Henry caught himself reflexively, but somehow it didn’t seem to hurt so much now. He continued, “since everything fell apart with Frank. After that, I went sort of dead inside. I screwed a lot of guys, but I never really gave a damn about them. And then I met you and…”

“And what,” Jason asked.

“I don’t know…You made me feel like I wasn’t such a bastard. You looked at me—the way you’re looking at me now. And you made me feel like I was good and decent and honest.”

“That’s because you actually are all of those things, Henry.”

“But I wasn’t. That’s what you don’t understand here,” Henry objected. “I went through the motions of upholding the law and keeping people safe because I knew that’s what decent people did. But I was like some ugly marionette just miming the actions of the flesh-and-blood people around me because I wanted to be one of them.”

Something like understanding lit Jason’s dark eyes, but he didn’t speak. He just turned his hand to lace his fingers with Henry’s. His long fingers felt warm and strong.

“I was walking around and talking, but I was dead inside and I knew it,” Henry admitted. “But then I met you and it brought something in me back to life. For the first time since I was twenty, I started to feel like there were things worth fighting for…I wanted to fight for you.”

“But then why did you leave?” Jason asked.

Henry didn’t answer right away. He didn’t want to admit the truth. But Jason had a right to know.

“Because I knew I’d screw it up, just like I screwed it up way back then,” Henry said at last.

Jason considered him for a long while before speaking.

“What happened back then was terrible, but that’s over. You and me, here and now, we’re just beginning.”

“Yeah.” Henry nodded. “I was starting to realize that…But I’d already left and you…Well, you had a kingdom of better candidates, didn’t you?”

“Dear God, no.” Jason wrinkled his nose in distaste at some memory. Then he gave Henry’s hand another squeeze. “My taste is more for the rough-and-ready type.”

“Rough and ready?” Henry laughed and he noticed Jason’s cheeks colore just a little.

“Well, I’m not going to lie and claim you won me over with fine dining and long walks on the beach,” Jason said, shrugging. “A bucket of chicken and a few beers isn’t exactly high romance, you know.”

“I suppose not.” Belatedly, Henry realized that he ought to have taken Jason out and shown him a good time. He wondered what it would be like to walk beside him and feel proud in the way he never could have been with Frank.

“Not that I couldn’t go for a few beers,” Jason suggested and Henry guessed he was trying to be sly.

“You doing anything tonight?” Henry asked.

Jason’s face lit up like Henry’d offered him a pot of gold.

“Are you asking me out?”

“Yeah, I am. But I won’t be offended if you turn me down for this one.” Henry handed him the card Gunther had given him. “The Cookie Jamboree isn’t all that rough and ready. Though I could always spike the punch.”

“It doesn’t look so bad. We could pick up a bucket of chicken and a couple of beers and head over to my place after it’s over. I have a loft in SoMa now. Plenty of space for equipment and Princess likes the big windows.” Jason stopped, seeming suddenly to grow shy. “If you’d like that, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Henry agreed. “I would like that.”

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

Nicole Kimberling lives in Bellingham, Washington, with her partner, Dawn Kimberling, and two bad cats as well as a wide and diverse variety of invasive and noxious weeds. Her first novel,
Turnskin
, won the Lambda Literary Award. She is also the author of the
Bellingham Mysteries
.