The Black Swan Page 11

The boys crowded around him, and he picked up each one. Little arms wrapped around his neck, threatening to strangle him, but he laughed and kissed them noisily on the cheek before he set them down.

  “Be good, guys. I’ll see you soon.”

  “With a boyfriend?” Lainie giggled at his expression and herded her sons out of the tavern.

  Noah breathed a sigh of relief as they left. Maybe he should have told her about the Golden Circle Matchmaking Agency, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t take him seriously. As the youngest, he rarely was.

  He stood with his hands on his hips and gazed around at the tavern’s interior, then gave a satisfied nod. It looked good.

  * * * *

  The Irish band he’d hired—Roddy McCorley and the Bridge of Toome—played ballads and fighting songs while Noah and a part-time bartender he’d brought in drew pints of the green beer Noah had ordered especially for St. Patrick’s Day. The additional help he’d hired for the evening—kids from the local community college—carried trays of drinks to the booths and tables, along with platters piled high with corned beef sandwiches. He also kept the coffeemaker going so he could serve Irish coffee to those who wanted it. And so many wanted it, he was constantly sending servers to the backroom to replace the cans of whipped cream.

  He usually closed about one a.m. during the week, but for this night he’d announced he was staying open an additional hour. At one thirty, he sang out, “Time, everyone,” and the crowd ordered a final round of drinks before they began to thin out, knowing that even though the next day was a Friday, it was still a work day.

  * * * *

  Noah paid the band, the servers, and the bartender and sent them on their way with thanks from him and assurances from them they’d be available next year.

  Once again, he stood with his hands on his hips as he gazed around the tavern. Debris littered the floor, streamers hung listlessly from the ceiling, and napkins and paper plates were scattered on every flat surface.

  He yawned and went to the backroom for a large trash bag. He loved nights like this where he didn’t have to think. He’d give the tavern a lick and a promise and do the real cleanup in the morning.

  He’d picked up the last of the paper plates and was just about to take a tray of glasses to the backroom when he heard the tapping on the door.

  A stray partier looking for more cheer? Or…Gabriel and his lady?

  He peeked through the door’s small window. This was one occasion when he wasn’t willing to open it blindly.

  And then he pulled it open. “Gabriel.” He looked past him. “Where’s your black swan?”

  Gabriel shrugged. “It didn’t work out, Noah. She wanted the excitement of playing a James Bond girl. I did that for almost two hundred years, and I’m not doing it anymore. Not for anyone.”

  “Of course not.”

  “She thought she’d get to wear beautiful gowns and ride in fancy cars, seduce foreign dignitaries—”

  She was willing to sleep with someone not Gabriel? Noah ground his teeth. Well, she was a big mistake. Noah took Gabriel’s arm. “Come on in. I’ll get you a drink.”

  “Thank you, Noah. You’re a good friend. I wish…”

  Yeah, Noah wished it, too, but there was no sense in that. He led Gabriel to the booth he thought of as theirs. “Just give me a minute, okay?” He managed to find a goblet that was clean.

  “Sure.” Gabriel looked exhausted. Could vampyres look so wiped out? Should they? Gabriel folded his arms on the table and laid his head down on them.

  As soon as Noah got into the backroom, he set down the goblet and found the paring knife. Without giving himself a second to think, he rolled up his sleeve and nicked the vein in the crook of his elbow. The blood flowed into the goblet.

  “I’ve got to be more prepared for this,” he muttered to himself. He covered the cut with a bar towel, went for the first aid kit, and managed to get a bandage out and over the cut. After he tossed aside the towel, he rolled down his sleeve, picked up the goblet, and went into the tavern.

  Gabriel raised his head.

  “You look so tired.” Noah handed him the goblet. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help stroking his palm over Gabriel’s dark hair. It felt soft as silk running through his fingers.

  “Thank you. I don’t remember courting being so exhausting.”

  He’d courted the black swan? Noah wanted to throw up.

  Gabriel took a sip, and then another, and then he gulped the rest down. “My God, this is amazing.” He licked a stray drop of blood off his lips. “Do you have a bottle of this I can take with me?”

  Noah felt his face heat up. “Um…I’m sorry, this was the last. I’ll have more for you the next time you come, though. If…if you’re going to come again?”

  “Oh, count on it. Did I tell you how familiar this tastes to me?”

  “You did say something about it. I don’t understand how it could be, though. Unless you’ve visited another tavern?” He didn’t want to know the answer to that, so he changed the subject. “I…uh…I have another black swan for you. This one is Keane DuBois.” He’d originally planned to suggest the man to the Romanian vampyre, but the only thing they had in common was the four thousand six hundred miles—and change—between them, so Noah had the man on hold in case the woman didn’t work out. Which she obviously hadn’t.

  And as for the Romanian vampyre…well, he’d managed to find someone on his own, which left Noah feeling kind of redundant.

  “Someone else who’s French?” Gabriel tapped his lower lip. “I was never inclined to trust the French, but…Tell me about him.”

  “He’s in his thirties, brown hair and eyes, and he lives on the Upper West Side of New York City with his brother. However, he’s willing to come down to see how the two of you work out.” The lucky so-and-so. “According to his profile, he’s had family members who fought in the most recent wars and who came back injured in one way or another. I don’t think he’ll be interested in going to the Middle East or seducing dignitaries.”

  Gabriel ignored his last comment. “I was in Tripoli. It wasn’t a pleasant experience.” He looked up and met Noah’s gaze. “All right, I’ll meet with Keane.”

  Noah went behind the bar. He was tired himself—this had been a very long day. That had to be why he was so depressed. He opened the drawer beneath the cash register, found the slip of paper with Keane’s phone number on it, and brought it to Gabriel.

  “Thanks, Noah.” Gabriel tipped the goblet back, trying to get the last drops. Then he put it down, angled out of the booth, and smiled at Noah. “It’s getting late. I’ll call Keane tomorrow evening.”

  “I’ll let him know to expect your call. And…and bring him with you the next time you—”

  The door suddenly burst open. Noah looked up and Gabriel looked around. Three men stood there. They were all dressed in unrelieved black, including their ski masks, and each one carried a hand gun that looked like a mini canon.

  “Kind of dumb not to lock the door,” one said in a mocking tone. His ski mask revealed his little pig eyes and a pair of fat lips. “This is a stick-up. We want everything in your cash register.”

  Noah stood there with his shoulders slumped. “Do you know how long we’ve had this tavern, Gabriel?”

  “I do. Almost twenty-one years.”

  “Almost twenty-one years,” Noah agreed. He sighed. “In all that time, Pop was never held up—not once. He’s gonna be so disappointed in me.”

  “Uh, excuse me?” the same man said. “Did you not get the message? You’re being robbed.”

  “Stay put, Noah.” Gabriel placed himself between the thieves and Noah.

  My hero. Not that it was necessary. Noah kept a shotgun behind the bar, if he could just get to it.

  “I think you yahoos are in the wrong establishment.” Gabriel’s voice was ice cold. “I’m advising you to leave.”

  “Oh, get him.” The man turned his gun on Noah and Gabriel. His companions copied his
movement. “We told you we want the money. Give it to us, and maybe no one will get hurt.”

  “No, if you leave, no one will get hurt.”

  Did these idiots not realize how much danger they were in? Noah watched in fascination. This was better than a Clint Eastwood movie.

  The first man muttered a curse and cocked the gun. And then he cried out and went flying back out the door. The other two looked around in panic, but Gabriel was nowhere to be seen.

  “Look…look, all we want is the ca—” That one went flying out the door, too.

  The third one stared at Noah wild-eyed. “You…what…Don’t—” He spun around and raced out of the tavern, stumbling over his companions and hitting the pavement head first.

  Suddenly Gabriel was back standing before him. “They’re out cold, Noah. You might want to call 9-1-1.”

  “Already done.” Noah held up his cellphone. “They should be here soon.” He reached for Gabriel, and hugged him “Thank you. I don’t know how you did what you did, but thank you.”

  “Weren’t you afraid?”

  “I never thought to be.” He took advantage of Gabriel’s closeness to hug him even closer and take a discreet sniff. God, he smelled good. “You were here.”

  “Foolish boy,” Gabriel muttered. “And if I wasn’t?” He drew in a shuddering breath, even though they both knew it wasn’t necessary.

  “The door would have been locked.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Why?”

  “It was my fault the door wasn’t locked.”

  “Y’know, you’re right, it was.”

  “What?”

  “You distracted me. I was so glad to see you.”

  Gabriel gave a huff of laughter.

  “Seriously, Gabriel. I’m glad you were here. You realize they would have tried to bust down the door even if it hadn’t been unlocked. I’d have gone for Pop’s shotgun, and their blood would have been on my hands.”

  “In that case, I guess it was a good thing I was here.”

  “A very good thing.”

  Gabriel stroked his cheek, then stepped back. “The police will be here soon.”

  “You’d better go, then.”

  Gabriel paused near the doorway. “David—my last black swan—died on March 29. I’ll be back to visit the cemetery in a couple of weeks to recall the time he spent with me. Will it be all right if I come to see you? It’s a Tuesday, and I know you close early on weeknights.”

  They heard sirens approaching.

  “I’ll be here, Gabriel.” For a second, Noah was sure Gabriel was going to maybe kiss him, and he shivered in anticipation. But all Gabriel did was give him a faint smile and step across the threshold.

  “Good night, Noah.”

  “Good night.”

  Gabriel paused long enough to make sure each man would stay unconscious. He winked at Noah over his shoulder, and then he was gone.

  Noah went back to the booth and picked up Gabriel’s goblet. It wouldn’t do for the cops to think it was evidence and take it.

  By the time the police parked their cruisers at the curb and examined the three perps, Noah had loaded up the final tray of glasses, brought them to the backroom, and stacked the dishwasher. He’d start it in the morning.

  As for Gabriel’s goblet…that was coming home with him. He’d place it in the china cabinet in the dining room, next to the other one.

  Was he a bad person to wish Keane didn’t work out either, that Gabriel would never bring the man to the Golden Circle?

  Yeah, he was. He raised his eyes to the ceiling. “Sorry, God.”

  The cop approaching him must have heard, because he raised his eyebrow. Noah kept his mouth shut.

  “Okay. Want to tell us what happened here?”

  Noah shrugged. “They tried to hold me up.”

  “I can believe that.” The cop nodded toward the three mini canons that were scattered on the pavement just outside the door. “How did they wind up unconscious?”

  “Y’know, I have no idea.” Which had the benefit of being true: Noah didn’t know what Gabriel had done to get close enough to incapacitate the thieves.

  The cop scowled at him.

  A second cop walked up to them. “It’s okay, Paul. I know this guy. We went to school together.”

  “You sure, Sarge?”

  “I’m sure. Hi, Noah.”

  “Hi, Zander.”

  “The perps are starting to come around, Paul. Get them in the patrol cars, would you?”

  Paul gave Noah a final cool look, then went to help the other cops.

  “We just wanted a drink. We wasn’t doing nothing,” one of the baddies whined as he was hauled to his feet, handcuffed, and dragged away.

  “Yeah, I’ll bet.” Zander curled his lip at him, then turned to Noah and took out a notebook. “You always close on time.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “This is my town. I keep track.”

  “Huh.”

  “So talk to me, Noah. What happened?”

  “Those guys decided to help themselves to the day’s receipts.” Noah had no problem talking to his friend. Zander was one of the few people in the Wittington area who knew about the occasional vampyre who visited the Golden Circle because he was a black swan himself. Noah had dated the man once when he’d come home for summer break just before he’d started on his master’s degree, and he knew that aside from being tall and good-looking, Zander was also fun and very good in bed, which was the main reason Noah had never suggested Gabriel meet him.

  “I know your pop had a pretty good security system set up.”

  “Yeah. I had it updated when I took over.”

  “Good. So we should be able to take a look at the footage.”

  “Uh…no.” Noah made sure his voice was low. “It will just be confusing. All you’ll see is those guys flying through the air with no apparent cause of propulsion.”

  “Like that, was it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, we’ll go with the theory they were high and tripped over their own big feet.”

  “Wittington PD will buy that?”

  “If they don’t, they’ll have to buy that you disarmed and knocked out three pretty big guys.”

  “You think I’m not capable?”

  Zander rubbed his hair. “I know exactly what you’re capable of.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  “Hey, Sarge.” Paul poked his head in the open doorway. “We’ve been looking for these guys. They each have rap sheets as long as my arm.”

  “Make sure you dot every i and cross every t. We don’t want these guys walking.”

  “Got it.”

  Zander waited for him to leave before he said, “I know most vampyres are pretty strong, but I’d like to meet the one who could do that kind of damage on his own.”

  Noah’s chest swelled with pride, as if Zander was praising Noah’s vampyre instead of just his friend. Then he realized what Zander had said. He wanted to meet Gabriel.

  “He’s got a black swan.” He was only stretching the truth a bit.

  “Yeah? That’s too bad, although I have to say I don’t really want to partner with a vampyre. Both of us being night people—it won’t do much for our sex lives.”

  Noah smiled weakly. “Yeah, not much fun.”

  “Do you want me to walk you home? I get off shift in about an hour, and I can come back.”

  “Thanks,” Noah said again. “It’s been a long day, and all I want is to catch some zzzs.” He knew if Zander went home with him, he’d want to have sex with him, and that would have felt as if he was cheating on Gabriel.

  “Well, call if you have any problems.”

  “I will, Zan, but I’ll be fine.”

  They shook hands, because Zander was in uniform and it wouldn’t have looked professional otherwise, and the police left.

  Noah made sure the door was locked, then tallied the evening’s take—it was even better than last St
. Patrick’s Day when his pop had run the tavern—put it in the night drop bag, and put the bag in the small safe beneath the floorboards behind the bar. In the morning he’d take it to the bank.

  With everything pretty much done for the night, he wrapped the goblet in a bar towel, tucked it under his arm, and turned on the security system. Once he locked the tavern’s door behind him, he went home.

  And he’d keep his fingers crossed that Pop never found out.

  * * * *

  Chapter 7

  The twenty-ninth finally arrived, not that Noah was checking off the days on his calendar.

  Things were slower than usual for a Tuesday night, but he didn’t mind. He’d be closing in about twenty minutes, and then he’d get things ready for Gabriel’s arrival.

  Only a couple of his regulars were still in the tavern, playing air hockey and sipping their beers, so he didn’t even bother announcing last call.

  Abruptly the door burst open, and a young man who didn’t look older than twenty-one stormed in. He gazed around the room, then spotted Noah behind the bar.

  “It’s almost closing, dude, and if you want a drink, you’d better have a valid ID on you.”

  “You’re Noah Poynter?” He glared at him

  “Yes. Can I help you?”

  “You can leave my brother’s boyfriend the fuck alone.”

  “Excuse me?”

  The two at the air hockey table burst into laughter, which didn’t help matters. “Are you sure you’ve got the right guy? Noah hasn’t dated anyone since he took over the tavern last year.”

  “What do you know about what goes on here after you idiots leave?”

  “Tone it down, dude. There’s no need to get hostile. You have a beef, you take it up with me.”

  “Damn straight I will.”

  The last thing Noah expected was for the guy to let out a growl, leap forward, and try to drag him over the bar.

  “Hey!”

  He let go of Noah so quickly Noah banged his chin on the bar.

  “What the actual fuck?”

  The guy stared at him with startled eyes and began backing up. Noah pushed off the bar and gave himself a shake, and when the guy seemed to realize Noah wasn’t going to come after him and tear him apart, he spun around and bolted out the door.