He grinned. “Then I’ll see you to your door at eleven fifty-nine.”
Giulia smiled. Hey—I can still smile.
Frank heaved his cello case into his left arm and brushed past Giulia. “Good night, Ms. Falcone.”
After Frank disappeared through the exit, the Second Violin said, “The Cello’s your boss, isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“Jealous?”
“Not likely.”
“Gay, huh?”
Laughter nearly choked her. There was no way to explain the whole soap opera. No way at all.
He offered her his arm. “Ready to go?”
_____
“I’ve never been to an Internet bar before, Scott.” Giulia sipped her vodka cranberry and watched pockets of people banging away at keyboards.
“Not a gamer?” Scott pulled at his ale.
“Don’t even own a computer.”
“You’re kidding.”
Giulia smiled again. She hadn’t been this relaxed in days. “I’m the exception that proves the rule. I only use a computer at work.”
“Ms. First Flute, I foresee a series of long evenings at my place during which I seduce you into the universe of MMORPGs.”
“Of what?” She liked his use of the word seduce. Maybe it’d erase the bad connotations from her mind.
“Massively multiplayer online role-playing games.”
“Like Dungeons and Dragons?”
“Shh. Don’t let the gamers hear you say that. You’ll forever be branded as out of touch. D&D is ancient history. I’m talking about Combat Realm.”
A woman in the back squealed and hugged the man next to her.
“She probably just won a battle or completed a quest. Maybe defeated a supernatural monster.” He nodded toward a table with six laptops arranged like place settings at Thanksgiving. “Now I can confess that I had an ulterior motive for bringing you here. The Raging Death Clan challenged Flight of Terror to a battle tonight. That’s why this place is so crowded. My roommate’s in Raging Death.” He looked over Giulia’s head. “There he is. Hey, Kyle, over here.”
A pale man with a shaved head marched over to them, talking into the air: “...just waiting for Nightclaw. She had to fill in for the kid working the drive-through tonight. See you in five.” He touched his ear, and Giulia saw the matte-black cell phone earpiece.
“Scott, dude, come to cheer me on? Who’s the babe?”
Scott smacked the back of Kyle’s head. “Watch your mouth, clod. Giulia, I’m ashamed to say this is my roommate, Kyle. Kyle, this is Giulia Falcone, flautist.”
“What-ist? Just a second.” He tapped his earpiece and turned his back to them. “No, dude, I don’t see him yet. Battle’s scheduled for quarter to eleven... He’ll be here. Right.” He faced them again. “Sorry. Those your chicken fingers? I’m starved.”
Scott slid the basket of chicken and fries toward him. “Where’s Lugal?”
“In the alley, sucking a cig and getting into character.” He stuffed half of a long piece of chicken, dripping with ketchup, in his mouth. “Hold that thought.” He swallowed and tapped his ear again. “Yeah? Cool. I’m there.” He shook Giulia’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Gotta get ready.”
Giulia just then saw the messenger bag on his shoulder. As he walked away, he drew out a green-and gold cape, flourished it over his shaved head, and tied it at his throat. Several people whistled and applauded.
Scott hung his head. “Sorry about Clod-boy, there, Giulia. He spends more time online than in the real world.”
Giulia said around a mouthful of her cheesesteak hoagie, “Does he have a regular job?”
“IT tech for all the local hospitals, now that they merged. So 99 percent of the time, the only warm bodies he interacts with are fellow geeks.”
Giulia smiled again. “I speak a little geek, Scott. The species just needs proper handling, anti-static suits, and a good conversational dictionary.” When he laughed, she got a glow in her cheeks that wasn’t embarrassment. “So give me a crash course in Raging Death.”
“Easy. They’re all ogres, so they have major attitude.”
She stifled laughter. “That helps them in battle?”
“Sure, for when they fight zombies and—ah. Here comes Urnu the Snake.”
Giulia looked on the floor. Wait. He means an ogre. A person playing ogre. “Which one is he? Or she?”
“That tall, skinny guy in the black T-shirt and jeans. Looks like nobody, right? Wait’ll you see his eyes during the battle. He’s the ultimate warrior.”
Three young men left their barstools, and in hushed voices began chanting, “Ur-nu. Ur-nu. Ur-nu.” Several gamers left their screens to add their voices to the homage.
Mob psychology. More than that—religious fervor. “Quite a reaction. The others on his team do what he says?”
“You bet. He’s a master strategist. Hrunting—that’s Kyle—controls lightning, casts spells, and is awesome with a two-headed axe.” Scott pointed to an older woman with a 1970s ’fro. “That’s Nightclaw. She’s a hunter. Ishtaria’s a mercenary—she’s the bleached blonde next to Hrunting. The Indian guy is Wulfaxe, the other warrior. He’s nowhere near Urnu’s level, though.”
They looked like a cross-section of average people to Giulia. She’d assumed they’d all be pale, pimply, and stoop-shouldered. Never believe stereotypes.
Urnu the Snake sat at the head of the monitor-covered table and folded his hands like a priest at Consecration. He looked familiar. Maybe if she heard his voice...
Melted ice in her drink had watered it down, but she sipped anyway. “And who are you in all this?”
“Tonight I’m just me, rooting for Hrunting. When I’m in the game, I’m his apprentice. Anything to get into Raging Death.”
A true bodybuilder took the seat at the opposite end of the table from the snake guy.
Urnu raised his eyes and Giulia blinked at the power and pull in his expression. That’s why they follow him.
Scott leaned into Giulia’s ear. “Lugal’s toast after the battle.”
“Who?”
“Lugal the Spear. The walking muscle that just sat down. He should’ve been first at the table to cast protective spells.”
“Maybe he had to work late.”
“When Urnu schedules a battle, his Clan is there. No exceptions. Hrunting called in sick to be here.”
Lugal the bodybuilder... no, Lugal the Spear attached his headset. Everyone raised a fist. Lugal raised both, revealing a silver and green spear tattooed on his left forearm. He spoke for a good two minutes, gesturing to each player in turn, saving Urnu for last. Then he stood. The others followed and slammed their fists on the table. “Death rages on!”
The clock over the bar read 10:44.
“Here comes the climactic battle.” Scott pulled Giulia closer to Hrunting’s monitor.
A hundred voices like fingernails on a chalkboard screeched out of the earpieces. All the players except Urnu and Lugal flinched. Ishtaria yanked off her headset, but put it back on a moment later. Leopard-vulture-spider creatures swarmed over the remaining opponents, dissolving one in venom, disemboweling another, slicing a third into strips just like giant cats used to do on Saturday-morning cartoons.
On-screen Urnu gestured, and all the creatures gathered behind him. With measured steps, he walked to the center of the battlefield where only the opposing leader remained. Urnu smiled. Giulia looked over the top of the monitor. Real-life Urnu had the same smile. He tapped several keys, and ogre-Urnu released a deafening shout. The others pounced on the vanquished leader, shredding and stamping. Urnu snapped his fingers. They fell away as Urnu reached a massive hand into the gore and came out with a tattered heart.
The gamers and the crowd began chanting in hushed voices. “Ur-nu. Ur-nu. Ur-nu.” Giulia, almost caught up in the moment herself, opened her mouth to join the chant.
Urnu swallowed the enemy’s heart.
The bar erupted in cheers. Giulia gagged. O
n screen, the Raging Death Clan crowded around Urnu as text and numbers appeared and disappeared over them and the victims. Their alter-egos tapped keys, never losing focus.
“Wasn’t that awesome, Giulia?” Scott squeezed her against his side. “The strategy, the cunning, the bloodlust.”
Giulia kept silent rather than ruin Scott’s mood with her true opinion. Scott finished his second ale and set the bottle on a table. “I’m almost powerful enough to petition Urnu for full membership. Kyle couldn’t give me details of his initiation, but he said the price was worth it.”
Snake-handling, maybe? How biblical. Giulia could picture Urnu as a Great Awakening preacher, a dozen harmless corn snakes twined around him, mesmerizing his followers with those eyes. And skinny, cute Kyle taking one of those snakes, trembling because he wouldn’t know whether it was poisonous or not.
The gamers, laptops closed, mingled with their fans. Hrunting high-fived Scott and followed two redheads to the bar.
Scott leaned into Giulia’s ear. “Want to meet Urnu?”
“I don’t really—”
He turned on the pout. “Come on, Giulia, he’s almost as mysterious in person. Then I’ll take you home—it’s almost pumpkin time.”
She could resist the pout, but why? He’d made her forget the last few days. Meeting this role-player was easy repayment. “Sure. Introduce me to the lead ogre.”
As they weaved through the groupies, Ishtaria stopped in front of Urnu. He bared his teeth and snarled his fingers in her long blonde hair. She touched her tongue to her upper lip, and Urnu jerked her forward. His eyes took in the fans around them. Then with one hand in her hair and the other kneading her buttocks, he thrust his tongue in her mouth. She clamped her lips onto his and ground her hips into his pelvis.
Giulia looked away, looked back. In rhythm with Urnu’s hand, Scott kneaded her waist.
Good Lord, I hope that woman is wearing underwear. Did I just think that? The hand on her own waist made longer strokes. Don’t move that hand any farther up or down, Scott. Her eyes locked on the victory tableau. Lady, please stop rubbing yourself on his leg.
“Scott, dude! Did you see? Weren’t we awesome?” Kyle/Hrunting and his redheads returned, beers in hands.
Lugal the Spear pushed past Giulia as the blonde turned toward the bar. In half a dozen slow steps, Lugal stood before his leader like a penitent, his Schwarzeneggerian muscles drooping before Urnu’s wiry height. Giulia couldn’t hear their conversation over Kyle and Scott’s jabber, but she had the distinct impression that if the two men were alone, Lugal would be on his knees.
Urnu touched Lugal’s chest, right above his heart. A tattoo of a snake extended to strike ran from his wrist to his elbow. Lugal touched his forehead to the snake.
That proves it. The game is their religion. Well, I promised to play nice for Scott’s new preacher. She touched Scott’s elbow to get his attention, sure that Lugal would leave after his obeisance.
Instead, Urnu replayed the last scene. He twisted his fingers into Lugal’s hair, grabbed his muscled buttocks, and crushed their lips together. Lugal clutched Urnu’s rump and pulled him closer.
Not in public—good Heavens.
Scott breathed, “I’d like to get a woman to dry-hump me like that.”
Giulia stiffened.
“Oh, not you, Giulia. I mean, not yet. I mean, this is just a first date and all. I’m a gentleman, really. Ask Kyle.” He yanked Kyle’s arm. “Right, Kyle?”
“Huh? Yeah. Sure. Scott’s a throwback to the fifties. Prince Charming and all that.” Kyle put an arm around the waists of his bookends. “I’m his foil. He tries to keep me honest, and I regale him with my conquests. You’re safe with him.”
Urnu and Lugal finally separated, and Scott took his place in the receiving line. “Urnu the Snake, you are awesome!” Scott high-fived him.
Urnu bared his teeth in his alter-ego’s smile. “I accept your homage, apprentice.” His greenish-gold eyes scrutinized Giulia. “Is this your consort?”
Scott smiled at Giulia. “I’m working on it. Urnu the Snake, this is Giulia.”
Urnu’s twisted smile expanded. “Indeed.” He held out his hand.
Politeness compelled her to take it. His grip was dry, and his hand trembled the slightest bit. Residual excitement, she supposed. Up close, she could see the metallic scales on the snake tattoo. Green and gold. The Clan took its colors from Urnu’s eyes. Strange didn’t begin to describe the groupies, the gamers—heck, the entire bar.
“I look forward to our next meeting, Giulia.” He released her hand, inclined his head to Scott, and walked to the bar. Ishtaria and Lugal opened a space for him between them.
“You’ve made a conquest, Giulia.” Scott stared after Urnu with just a hint of Lugal’s lust in his eyes.
Giulia flushed, then got a touch of the crawlies. “I don’t think so.”
“I don’t want the lord of the manor to exercise his right to take you from me anyway. You’re okay with dating a future ogre, right?”
“Let no one say I’m species-intolerant.”
“Ma’am, you’ve won my scaly heart. Shall we go?” As they passed the bar, Scott slugged Kyle’s shoulder. “Don’t drive home, Wizard.”
“Got cab fare stashed with the bartender.” He kissed the right-hand redhead. “Don’t expect me before morning, dude.”
Giulia would’ve liked to kiss Frank like that. Well, maybe not at first. There was zero chance of it happening anyway. That window had closed and locked when those photos appeared on the office door.
They crossed the parking lot, and Scott held the passenger door of his dark green Pathfinder for her.
Get a clue, Falcone. A hot, eligible man is driving you home.
She was going to take the plunge. He was willing and she was tired of being a throwback to Victorian times. Maybe she didn’t know how to dry-hump, but she could kiss. What had the February Cosmo said about red-hot kisses?
Scott braked hard and Giulia’s seat belt caught her.
“Oh, dear. I think I’ve been a colossal boor.” Giulia gave him an apologetic smile. “Please tell me we haven’t been driving long.”
Scott reached for her hand. “A few blocks. I tried to talk to you, but when you didn’t answer I figured I’d wait till you came back to earth.”
“You take me out and I ignore you. That’s got to be on the top ten list of reasons people don’t get a second date.”
“Giulia, the only way I wouldn’t ask you out again is if I dropped dead before tomorrow’s show.”
“Oh.” She squeezed his hand in return. “You’re in good health? No terminal conditions? No tendency to fall off roofs or jump in front of moving trains?”
“Damn. We’re here.” He escorted her to the door. “Barring fire, flood, or earthquake, I’ll see you at the Marquee tomorrow.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Kyle’s wrong, you know. I’m no Prince Charming.”
She knew a twinge of disappointment for the buried desire of every little girl to really, truly meet Prince Charming. “I didn’t expect you to be.”
“Prince Charming always seems to be too much of a wuss to show his feelings for the rescued princess. Myself, on the other hand—”
He cupped his hand on the back of her head and kissed her. She embraced him, and he trailed his other hand up and down her back. She shivered. A good shiver. Tomorrow night she’d pull that clingy red sweater out of the back of her closet. Never too late to become a consort.
Giulia blew through housecleaning and grocery shopping Saturday morning. After lunch, she threw on capris and her black-and-white DMHO T-shirt and took the bus to Common Grounds.
Deep female singing voices hit her as soon as she opened the door.
She’d forgotten Evelyn’s open-mike Saturdays. Whoever these three were, at least they could carry a tune, unlike that Beach Boys tribute band on Memorial Day.
Giulia knocked on the counter and said to the back of Mingmei’s
apron, “Hey, Mingmei. Can I get a medium iced chai?”
Mingmei started and turned around, raising her voice over the music. “Hey, Giulia. You working overtime?”
“Not really. Don’t you get off shift soon?”
“Three o’clock. Ten minutes.” Mingmei leaned forward, her striped hair brushing Giulia’s ear. “Something wrong?”
Giulia shook her head. “Need your advice.”
“Okay. No worries. Evelyn’s niece is working second shift today. She’s always on time.”
Sure enough, five minutes later Mingmei’s replacement walked in, waved at Giulia, and headed straight for the counter. Three women toting shopping bags followed her, debating in lawyerlike fashion about strawberry versus blueberry smoothies.
“Whew.” Mingmei slid into the chair opposite Giulia and drank sixteen ounces of water without taking a breath. “Okay, I’m all yours. What’cha need?”
“Makeup advice. I have a date tomorrow.” She patted her homemade messenger bag.
“Yes!” Mingmei high-fived her. “It’s about time. Do I know him? What’s he look like? Where are you going?”
“One at a time. Come upstairs to the office with me, and I’ll tell you on the way.”
As they climbed the stairs side by side, Giulia said, “His name’s Scott and he plays violin in the theater with me.”
“Is he the one with the great pecs? You mentioned him the day after that cast party.”
“That’s the one. He gave me a chocolate rose after last night’s show.”
Mingmei clapped her hands. “It’s only a short step to real flowers. Is he nice? How’s he kiss? He has kissed you, hasn’t he?”
An overnight delivery envelope hung on the doorknob in a plastic bag, addressed to Frank from someone in D.C. She slid it over her wrist and turned her key in the lock.
“Yeah, he has. I think he kisses, um, well, great.” Her ears tingled. “I don’t have a lot of experience to compare him with, though.”
“Girl, you are such an amateur.” Mingmei hugged her. “But I am so proud of you.”
Force of Habit: A Falcone & Driscoll Investigation Page 15