Blood Debt

something; what if you were wrong?"
    Henry frowned. "Wrong?"
    "From what I understand, this is something new in the history of…
    uh…"
    "Vampires?"
    Celluci flushed. "Yeah. Vampires. For the first time, two of you are face-to-face and not fighting over territory because Vicki doesn't want your territory. What if you could've worked something out?" He spread his hands and stepped away from the door. "Now, you'll never know."
    "Now, you'll never know."
    The detective's words rang in his ears as Henry made his way down to his car. Vicki's scent remained a distraction, in the elevator, in the underground parking. It was the scent of another predator in his territory. It was also the scent of a women he'd loved.
    Unfortunately, instinct kept insisting they were two different people.
    He slid into the BMW and rested his head for a moment on the steering wheel. The difference in the scent that surrounded him and in the scent he remembered only served to remind him of how much he'd lost.
    It took all of his strength, gathered and refined for over four hundred and fifty years, to drive away.
    Leaving another vampire in control of his territory.
    Leaving Vicki.
    Tony showed them quickly around the apartment, then pulled his roller blades and helmet out of the hall closet. "It's getting late and I, uh, gotta go." When Celluci's brows went up, he looked uncomfortable and said, "I'm staying with friends. Henry thought it would be safer, since Vicki's not used to waking up to a blood scent."
    "I'll still be here."
    "Oh, yeah. I, uh, guess he figures you can take care of yourself."
    "He's got it all figured out, doesn't he?" Celluci snorted. He watched Tony watch Vicki as she walked over to stand by the window and stare out at the city. It was the position Henry used to favor back in Toronto, and Celluci could tell by the recognition on Tony's face that it was still a position Henry favored. Maybe it was just a vampire thing—surveying territory, the hunter taking the high ground—but he hated it when Vicki reminded him of Henry.
    "Henry's used to getting his own way."
    It took a moment for Celluci to realize that Tony's quiet statement was a reply to his rhetorical question. Before he could think of a response, Vicki turned from the window.
    "You will be here tomorrow sunset, won't you?" she asked, her preference clear.
    Startled but pleased, Tony nodded. "If you're sure you want me."
    "The last, and only time I was in Vancouver, I wasn't paying much attention to the city." Wasn't paying much attention to anything except controlling the Hunger—she could remember the blood but little else. "If we're going to lay this spook, we're going to need someone who knows his way around."
    "There's a whole bunch of street maps and stuff on the dining room table," he began, but Vicki cut him off.
    "All a map'll tell us is where the streets are, not what they're about." She folded her arms and leaned back against the glass. "Unless that high school diploma came with a blindfold and earplugs, I can't believe you don't know what's going on out there. You were my best eyes and ears on the street, Tony."
    Although he still looked pleased, he shrugged apologetically. "I'm not on the streets anymore."
    "You still see things. You still hear things. And you have a gift for connecting the dots."
    "For what?"
    "For finding a pattern in apparent chaos."
    "Really?"
    "Yeah. Really."
    Ears pink, he shoved aside the compliment, attempting, unsuccessfully, to hide how much it meant. "You want order out of chaos? Try being around Saturday afternoon when the Friday night videos come in. Look, I really gotta go, but I'll be back tomorrow sunset. A list of all the stupid questions Henry asked the spook's on the table with the maps. The number where I'll be staying and my work number's on the bulletin board by the phone. It's great to see you again, Victory." He grinned, and some of his old, street kid cockiness showed in the expression. "You, too, Detective."
    He paused at the door, roller blades in one hand, helmet in the other, backpack hanging from one shoulder. "Henry doesn't like me keeping much food around, but there's frozen stuff in the freezer and a little store downstairs on the parking level if you're hungry. He's open until midnight."
    "Frozen stuff?" Vicki asked incredulously.
    "Not for you, for Celluci." He snickered and closed the door.
    Attempting to banish a vision of Red Cross blood bags, tagged and stacked and frozen solid, Vicki went