Satyr Play 02 Pt. 01

Sigrid looked him in the eye. "I said you were taking the day to recover."

"I feel great! Besides, if I stay home, I'll only work from there," he said with a smile.

"Why does no one listen to me?" she growled as she spun to stomp back to the front door.

Camila stood and followed her out with a sly smile.

Henry turned to Meixiu. "Thank you for taking such good care of me. I'm sorry I can't remember yesterday."

"It is too bad as you taught me something," she said with a slight smile.

"I did?"

She nodded then her mouth was on his, and the tip of her tongue dipped into his mouth. Henry's body jolted with the sensation, and he might have moaned just a little.

"MEIXIU!"

The young woman pulled back with a guilty smile for Sigrid as Henry wobbled.

The tall blond collected Henry while giving Meixiu a stern look and led him by the arm to the front door and out. Meixiu followed to lock up.

Henry climbed in and found himself pressed between the two lovely women when Sigrid got in. He heard both begin to purr at the sensation.

"No! Nope! Out!" he said firmly, and Sigrid hopped back out with a surprised look. Henry followed her out then rounded the front of the vehicle to sit in the passenger seat up front. He rested back with a sigh as the tingling heat on his neck settled down.

He had work to do today!

-=-

Nate was lounging on the decadently comfortable bed in his hotel room watching the news. He was feeling particularly spoiled after sleeping in Camila's wonderful bed and now this cloud of a mattress.

Speaking of clouds, there was this crazy story on the news about a rogue air force pilot flying in Kansas who started shooting clouds. He disappeared only to reappear eight minutes later in the skies above Fort McMurray, Alberta. There was a lot of angry saber-rattling between the governments of the two countries. The Canadians accused the US of flying top-secret experimental aircraft missions into their airspace. The US wanted the pilot and the jet back, immediately.

The pilot was demanding asylum as he'd been guided there by a divine presence. The media was having a blast with their headlines for Major Tom, but nobody was taking him seriously.

Meanwhile back in Kansas, in the small town where the pilot originally departed US airspace, tragedy struck at a high school football stadium when a sudden and fierce rainstorm swept over the field catching the two teams and the spectators by surprise. The clouds above then unleashed a hellish amount of lightning onto the sodden crowd. Electronics up to a mile away fried in the pulse.

Within hours, Army trucks rolled into town with personnel wearing hazmat suits. They quarantined the town, and the press weren't being allowed anywhere near the grisly scene. The conspiracy theorists were having a field day.

"Are you watching this too?" Nate called out as he thought he heard an echo through the open door between their rooms.

Jo came running into his room wearing one of the super plush hotel bathrobes. Her bubbliness seemed to have returned after a good night's sleep.

She jumped up on his bed and crawled up to lean back against the pillows he set up for her against the headboard. "This is crazy shit!" she gasped.

"They're saying the plane flew over sixteen hundred miles in eight minutes! That's like, uh..." Nate struggled to do the math.

Jo squinted at him as she worked it out too. "Twelve million miles per hour?"

He gave her an incredulous look. "What?!? No! It's- twelve thousand miles per hour."

She stuck out her tongue. "Sue me! I'm a creative genius, not a math nerd."

"The point is, it couldn't possibly have flown that fast. So either the Air Force found a way to warp space, or it's a hoax, maybe to spook the Russians."

Jo stuck out her bottom lip. "It's going to be a hoax. They always end up admitting that," she sighed. "What about the town? Those poor people! That's so scary! You're living there, minding your own business then BAM! Mother Nature kicks your ass, and the army locks you in the town, cutting off all access to the outside world."

They sat quietly watching the news anchors filling the air with useless speculation, repeated ad nauseam.

"I hope they don't find her."

Nate looked over at Jo's profile in surprise. "You don't want them to find the freak who attacked you?"

"Then we could stay in this luxurious hideout forever," Jo sighed.

Nate snorted. "Our benefactors are exceptionally generous, but there are limits." He lifted the TV remote and flipped to the local news. The weather was going to remain warm for a little while yet.

"Who cares how it is outside when it's so perfect inside," Jo pouted.

"We have to go outside at some point. Life is out there," he explained.

"Overrated. This bed is better than anything you'd find out there."

He gave her a sad look. "Other people are out there."

She snorted. "Other people bring us room service. We meet people!"

"No offense to Steven, the busboy but I'm talking about people we can have more meaningful relationships with."

"Meh," was her response.

He continued to look at her profile as she stared at the screen.

"Shit."

He looked back to the screen, and they were displaying the portrait of Chantelle Gauthier. The dark-skinned beauty's body washed up on the shore not too far from the marina where Oletha had died.

"Well, we had a lovely night's sleep at least," Nate said.

"Poo."

He regarded her for a while until she looked at him.

"What? Do I have a booger dangling from my nose?" she asked.

"Gross!" he growled. "No. I- I'm... I just want to say I'm sorry."

She looked at him curiously. "For what?"

He looked away. "For whatever role I played in ruining your chances with Bev."

She scowled at him. "Why did you have to ruin a perfectly good moment of being lazy with thoughts of her?"

"Because what you had with her is what I want most in the world and what I fear I'll never have."

The scowl became a glare. "So why don't you marry Bev?"

"When I find someone who loves me as much as she loved you, I'll marry them," he sighed.

The glare now included scorn. "Oh please! The man who gets more action than anyone I know would give all that up for monogamy?"

"For my soul mate, I would. In a second. You know I've always wanted to find a match like my parents."

Jo looked away. "Yeah, well... that doesn't happen for everyone."

"It could happen for you."

Eyes flashed. "Why the sudden interest in matchmaking?"

He looked away. "Just having an epiphany of the impact I have on those around me."

"Wow, ego much?"

He shook his head. "I've tried to have relationships with eleven women. Eleven decent, friendly, happy women-"

"Batshit crazy, you mean!" she snorted.

"Afterwards."

She blinked at him. "What?"

"That's how they all were, afterward. Ask their friends how they behaved before me. I did. Well, the ones who would talk to me."

Jo turned to face him with a serious expression. "You don't seriously believe there is something about you that turned nice girls into those monsters, do you?"

"My belief is immaterial. It happens."

She watched him and saw his conviction. "Wait, how is this related to Bev and me?"

"You're the twelfth woman."

Eyebrows went up. "Excuse me?"

"You are the only other woman I've had a long-term relationship with," he confessed.

Her mouth worked, but nothing came out, at first. "You're lumping me in with the crazy bitches?!?"

"No. Your personality remained true. You are just as sweet and funny as you've always been. It's your attitude towards long-term relationships and love that's twisted since I met you."

She looked at him, speechless.

He continued. "You'd been in a relationship with Bev for three years when we met, and you two were such a good match. You both had a life plan and similar dreams. I brought home one sexy tart after another, parading them by you without thought. You became restless while I struggled to find what you and Bev already had." He took a deep breath. "I know you had sex with Melanie, right before I broke up with her... and you with Bev."

She jolted at the memory and looked at him cautiously.

"Melanie talked about how pretty you were and asked me if I'd consider a ménage à trois. By the end, she'd convinced herself I was already having sex with you."

"Why didn't you?"

It was his turn to stare at her incredulously.

"Don't get me wrong. I'm not interested, but I always thought you'd at least try. Don't straight men typically think Lesbian's just need a good fuck to straighten them out?" she scoffed.

"NO! Geezus- I don't know. Listen, I can't speak for other men, but no, I've never thought that! Besides, I wouldn't, with you," he finished awkwardly. She pulled back like he'd slapped her and his face fell. "Come on! I didn't mean it in a bad way! I wouldn't want to do anything to jeopardize our friendship! Sex would kill it. You're my best friend! I need you!"

She was quiet for a while just looking at him. "Then why are you bringing up something painful."

He sighed. "Because a good friend would have stopped you from throwing away something as good as what you had with Bev. I did nothing! I said nothing! Purely selfish, I was only thinking of me."

"You don't think I can make my own decisions?" Jo barked.

"Of course I do. But no one makes decisions without some outside influence. I've been a terrible example. One night stand after one night stand, and now you seem to be following the same pattern-"

"Maybe I want that! Maybe I'm enjoying it!" Jo yelled.

He turned sad eyes on her. "If you were, you'd smile more often like you did when you were with her."

Jo slid off the bed to stand next to it and faced him. "You know what? Fuck you. I'm going home. And I'm keeping the robe!" She stormed off, slamming the door between their rooms. He heard the lock snap into place.

He sighed. There was a knock on the main door.

He peeked out the door and saw Allan the VRL security man, so he opened it. "Good morning."

"Good morning, Mr. Walker. I've received word that the danger is over, so the security team was released."

"Yeah, we saw it on the news. We'll check out this morning."

"Very good sir. VRL is picking up the tab." He paused and looked back with a slight smile. "Including the robes."

Nate smiled guiltily. "Thanks!"

With a nod, the big man walked away and joined two others as they went to the elevators.

Nate closed the door and glanced at the door to Jo's room. He went to take a shower. He wasn't sure what to do next.

He seemed to be burning bridges again. Maybe it was time to build new ones?

Chapter 24

Henry was wearing a very sharp black jacket over a charcoal grey dress shirt, open at the collar, black dress pants, and black leather shoes. He'd been taught the basics when he initially received his glamor. He had some basic casual wear outfits memorized but had never tried anything beyond that.

While Camila warned him to stick to real physical clothes for his human body whenever possible, on special occasions like this, he could incorporate fancier clothes into his glamor once he was skilled enough. For now, he used a picture on his cell he'd pulled from a website to help him visualize it.

The cell phone was new as well as Sandy's hadn't survived being crushed against the side of a yacht then dunked in the harbor. He'd have to pay her back somehow for destroying it.

Camila had said she wanted his date to go well as she felt bad about pushing Sigrid so hard. He thought she might have an ulterior motive, but he kept that to himself as he also wanted the date to go well. She'd explained she taught Nathan to do this and, now that Henry had a real glamor, this would work for him as well.

He was looking forward to finally meeting Nate again.

For now, though, Henry was sitting across from Sigrid in a lovely intimate restaurant trying to keep his eyes in his head. She looked gorgeous! Her long blonde hair was partially teased up but fell in cascades over her shoulders. Her makeup was minimal, but her glow of happiness took his breath away. She was smiling at his obvious appreciation of her beauty.

"Henry! Stop! My cheeks are beginning to hurt from smiling!" she said quietly.

"I'm sorry!" he blurted softly. "I've just never seen you look this radiant before!"

"Oh my god, stop!" she gushed.

Henry looked down at his plate. The black halter-style evening gown she'd selected wasn't blatantly sexy, but it did hint at the wonders it contained. The Valkyrie had wonders in abundance.

The waiter arrived and took their orders. Henry chose something light. Truthfully he didn't even recall what it was as his eyes kept stealing looks at Sigrid. She ordered a bottle of wine.

When they were alone again, Sigrid leaned forward slightly, and his eyes dipped to glance at her cleavage before guiltily lifting to her eyes.

"This is why I told you to meet me at the restaurant!" she sighed.

She'd had her nails painted a deep, bold red and she seemed a little self-conscious of that decision. She normally just wore a clear coat. Her hands moved nervously around the table's surface, adjusting the tablecloth and the setting.

Finally, Henry reached across the table and took her hands in his. She smiled in relief as her hands now had something meaningful to do.

"I like the color! It looks good on you!" he said admiring her nails and enjoying her soft skin.

"It isn't too... dark? I don't know why I let Camila talk me into this color! Red looks better on her!" she fretted.

"Sigrid." He held her eyes and spoke with conviction. "Since when do you let anyone talk you into anything? You chose this color because you wanted it. Now, what does this color mean to you?"

She held still as she looked at her nails resting against the palms of his big hands. "Passion," she blurted then her face flushed with heat.

He nodded. "I like it! Definitely a good word for you!" he said with a smile. Her eyes twinkled with her happiness.

The wine arrived, and he released her hands. He'd only be having one glass tonight as he was still a little freaked out about losing a day to the painkillers.

Once they were alone again, they touched glasses and smiled at each other. Henry nodded to Sigrid after his sip. "Very nice wine! Good choice! I mean, I'm no wine aficionado, but I like it!"

"Thank you!" she said. She looked at her glass, and he saw her preparing herself.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

She shook her head faintly. "When you experienced that traumatic event with the police officer, you didn't tell anyone about it. I was wondering if I ever made you feel like you couldn't talk to me?" she asked quietly.

He held her eyes. "No. Absolutely not. Ever since that first night when you..." He glanced around, but they had privacy. "rescued me, you've shown me nothing but compassion. You have been incredible-"

"Then why-"

He shrugged. "I don't know. It was probably because I didn't want to think about it. At all. I pushed it back into my mind and tried to forget. But I couldn't. It kept surfacing."

"I have the name of a doctor who you can speak to," Sigrid offered.

He smiled at her and lifted her hand to his lips, gently pressing them to her knuckles. "Thank you. When I could no longer bear to keep it inside, I spoke with Sandy. She's an excellent listener too. That took the edge off. I'm sleeping better, for the most part. Granted, that might also be due to recent activities. I've had the nightmare again, but its intensity greatly reduced. I'm hopeful the worst of it is over. If you believe the doctor can help me make it go away completely, I'd be willing to see them. Truthfully though, I do feel better."

She looked into his eyes, and he did seem calmer and well rested. However, she wanted him healthy in body and mind. "I'll set up an appointment for you to talk with her." He nodded.

Their meals arrived, and they made small talk. Most of the larger topics were off limits for discussing in public. None the less, they enjoyed themselves as Henry flirted with her to keep the smile on her face.

Finally, she held up her hands. "Ok, you have to stop. My cheek muscles are sore from grinning like a fool."

He grinned back at her then his expression changed to concern as her smile drained away quickly. He saw she was looking over his shoulder and turned to see what she saw. He understood why she stopped smiling.

The Fae agent Ikehorn was approaching and right behind him was Queen Mab. The agent pulled a chair from a vacant table across from their table and positioned it for Queen Mab to sit facing them. Then he stood back, and the Queen sat with a smile on her perfect lips.

Sigrid was watching her cautiously, but Henry was wobbling back and forth between being terrified and pissed off. "Queen Mab, I wasn't expecting to see you... any time soon, especially here in New York, and certainly not while I was on a date," he blurted as his frustration won over his fear.

She smiled at him. "I do enjoy visiting this city from time to time. I'll be spending a month or two here. After receiving a rather disturbing report from Ikehorn, I felt it was in everyone's best interest that I address some points with you directly."

Henry wasn't surprised that she ignored his annoyance at the interruption, but he was surprised that she hadn't punished him for it. He glanced at Ikehorn and caught the displeasure in his expression. Then he took a closer look at the Fae. He looked very fit and vital! Younger too?

"Ah, you've noticed Ikehorn's recent makeover. I understand he has you to thank for that. You've been manipulating the global healing spell for your personal use."

Sigrid shifted uncomfortably at Mab's speaking openly about magic, and the Queen turned her attention to the Valkyrie. "Within my area of influence, we have complete privacy including protection against all forms of Human electronic surveillance."

"I wasn't aware of manipulating anything. That's not my thing," Henry said honestly.

Mab looked into his eyes and saw he was speaking the truth. She frowned. "Aware or not you must not treat the spell as your personal first aid kit. Which brings me to my second point." Her eyes turned to Sigrid, and there was a suppressed rage there that made the hairs on the back of Sigrid's neck stand at attention. "Why is Henry being placed in dangerous situations which resulted in his need to be healed? I believe he indicated he just wanted to work on computers. That sounds like a safe and dull occupation. No danger there," Mab insisted.

"They told me to stay with the car. They didn't place me in danger. I did... to protect my friends," Henry rushed to their defense. Mab turned her green-eyed stare on him, and beads of sweat popped up on his forehead.

"Do I need to remind you of your importance to the Fae? We need you alive and healthy. We don't need them alive and healthy." Mab said with a frosty clarity.

Ikehorn caught the motion of someone approaching and watched in surprise as they were able to ignore the aversion compulsion of the spell. Then he recognized Lise-Anne Hoek and Rand von Deussel from the Hidden Races Council. They stopped a distance away from the edge of the spell and waited to be acknowledged.

Ikehorn leaned in and whispered to the Queen. She pursed her lips in frustration and turned her head to look to the two council members. She gestured for them to approach, willing the spell to give them access.

Once they were close, they gave her shallow bows. Lise-Anne appointed herself speaker for the two. "Your majesty. We weren't expecting to meet you here tonight." She glanced over to Henry and saw his discomfort at the Queen's presence as well.