“Shit!” Vic ducked his head into the crook of his arm and fumbled to hit the switch a second time, white dots swimming in his vision. A pain pierced his skull like the tip of a hot poker pressing into his closed eyes. He stumbled from the bathroom, tripped over the dog, cursed again. “Sadie, sit! God damn it…”
His eyes burned. Somehow he found the edge of the bed and fell atop it, scrambling for the covers. Only once the cool darkness pressed around him did he dare open his eyes again. Here, in the burrow formed by his blankets, he could see every detail of his hands and chest, every tattoo, every piercing, as if he lay bathed in light. What the hell was this shit?
Calm down. In the time he’d been with Matty, Vic had learned how to deal with all sorts of crazy superpowers, and this sudden sensitivity to light was just one more in a long line of doozies. Thinking around the pain in his head, he tried to rationalize what had happened.
Everything’s so damn bright.
Alright, true. Unlit rooms seemed well-lit, and turning on the bathroom light had blinded him. So what exactly was he dealing with here? Some sort of photosensitivity. Normal light was too much for him, while here in the darkness beneath his blankets, he saw clearly. Almost like…
Night vision.
The moment the words whispered through his mind, Vic knew they were right. Night vision. But if that were the case, why didn’t it only kick in at night? Sometimes the powers made no sense to him at all. This wasn’t really night vision so much as a constant dilation of his pupils, allowing in every bit of light in a room, giving him the ability to see in the dark but frying his brain with too much light. Suddenly the prospect of navigating a bus through sunny city streets exhausted him. Did he have any sick time left? Could he get away with calling in yet again? If only he could drive with the blanket over his head to block out the sun.
Of course. Throwing off the covers, Vic slid off the bed and headed for the dresser. Half the drawers were his, the other half Matt’s. He knew without having to look where his lover kept everything—shorts and jeans in the bottom drawer, swim trunks and tank tops in the third one down, underwear and socks in the second. The top drawer was where Matt kept belts, an extra wallet or two, a few gold chains he wore now and then, and the largest collection of sunglasses Vic had ever seen outside a store display.
These weren’t cheap shades—Matt had a very vain streak in him, and he loved to look like that untouchable summer playboy in Speedos and Oakleys. The look had been designed to keep others at bay, suggesting to any man interested that Matt was out of his league. It had been easier than trusting anyone with the powers he inadvertently gave his lovers. And the illusion had worked, until Matt himself shattered it when he approached Vic all those years ago.
Now Vic flipped through the sunglasses, looking for something that wouldn’t look too stupid on him. Most were in obscene colors, red and orange and yellow, wraparound shades made for chilling on the beach, not driving a city bus. Finally near the back of the drawer he found a pair of Ray Bans—black, classic, cool. Slipping them on, Vic nudged the drawer shut with his hip and returned to the bathroom. Eyes shut, he turned on the light. When he heard the bulbs buzz to life, he opened one eye, then the other.
Then nodded. Thank you, Matty, for having expensive tastes. The shades blocked out most of the glare. Instead of seeing everything darker, as he normally would wearing sunglasses inside, he saw things as he usually did, his vision eliminating the darkness.
Vic took a deep breath to steady himself. Last night had been heavenly with Matt, but in the morning, there was always a price to pay. What a fun engagement present.
* * * *
Though Roxie’s original reply still rang in Matt’s ears—”Oh, hell no!”—she caved in after lunch and agreed to take both he and Sadie home after work. The ice cream cone he bought her from Bruster’s helped, but he knew the real reason she played nice. As he handed over the cold cone heaped with scoops of mint chocolate chip ice cream covered with rainbow sprinkles, he casually mentioned, “You know, I talked with Vic.”
She didn’t ask about what—she didn’t have to. Her eyes lit up and she almost dropped the cone in her excitement. “And?” she asked, breathless. “Don’t leave me hanging! What’d he say?”
Matt sort of grinned and she squealed. The sound was deafening. “Yes!” she shrieked, jumping up and down like a little girl. “He said yes! I knew it! I knew he would!”
The next thing Matt knew, she had launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and planting a cold, wet kiss on his cheek. He cringed and swatted her away, but she didn’t seem to notice. As he wiped a smudge of ice cream off his face, she danced in a small circle, telling the other customers in line for dessert, “He’s getting married, do you believe it? He’s finally getting hitched!”
“Finally,” Matt grumbled. Jeez, she made him sound desperate.
An elderly couple behind them gave Roxie a wide berth, but upon hearing the news of his engagement, the woman placed a gentle hand on his arm and beamed at him. “Congratulations, dear. What’s your sweetheart’s name?”
Roxie pushed Matt aside. “Vic,” she said, as loud as she could. Matt felt his face flame in embarrassment at the confusion on the old woman’s face. “He’s so hot, too. Matt doesn’t know how lucky he is to have that man. I mean—”
“I know.” Hooking an arm through Roxie’s, Matt pulled her away from the serving window in front of Bruster’s to the benches nearby. “Jesus, Rox. Tell the whole world, will you?”
She laughed. Before he could stop her, she threw her head back and bellowed at the top of her lungs, “He’s getting MARRIED!”
“Great,” Matt muttered. “I’m sure my mother could hear that. It’ll be on the six o’clock news tonight and in the papers tomorrow. You’re more worked up about this than I am.”
With a sigh, Roxie flounced down onto the bench, her petticoat-boosted mini-skirt flaring out around her, the toes of her Doc Marten’s turned in above the striped leggings she wore. “I’m just so happy,” she said, throwing an arm around Matt as he sat beside her. “I’m in the wedding, right? You did ask Vic that, didn’t you?”
Matt dove into his hot fudge sundae and tried to dodge the question. “Um, well, things got a little bit…heated between us after I popped the question. If you know what I mean.”
Roxie’s grin widened and she winked. “Well, ask him tonight. Hey! Ask him when I take you home. I’ll be right there—”
“He’ll be at work.” For once Matt thanked God Vic didn’t hold a normal nine-to-five job. Carefully, he said, “We’re still in the afterglow, you know? Once we start actually planning the ceremony, I’ll ask.”
The hand holding his spoon shook just thinking about it. True, he’d told Vic it would be something small, something private, but he couldn’t stop envisioning himself at the altar, hands clasped to keep them from trembling, as he watched Vic approach to the classic sounds of The Wedding March.
There was time enough to plan. But at least Roxie was so excited, she didn’t have time to be a bitch. When Matt left a little after five to walk to the doggy daycare, Roxie gave him a huge smile. “I’ll be like two minutes,” she assured him. “Your dog won’t like, barf or crap in my car, will she?”
Matt shook his head. “Roxie, trust me. She’s well-behaved.”
As he ducked out the front door of the gym, he silently added, Mostly.
Sadie was pleased to see him, as usual. In the parking lot, she stopped, confused, as she looked for Matt’s black Jaguar, but a tug on her lead and she fell into step beside him. “Come on, girl. No hot rod ride today. We’re going to have to slum it in Roxie’s hatchback.”
Once she realized they were walking, Sadie raced ahead, pulling Matt along with an exuberance that made him laugh. Outside the gym, Roxie clutched her large purse in both hands, nervously eying the approaching dog. “God, she’s huge.” She flinched when Sadie sniffed her boots.
Sadie had never met Roxie be
fore. Matt tried to hold her back, but the dog snuffled up Roxie’s legs then, too late, Matt saw what would happen next. Sadie nosed her way over Roxie’s knees and higher, up under the layers of crinoline on her petticoat. “Hey!” Roxie yelled, slapping the front of her skirt down. “I thought you said it was a girl dog!”
Matt laughed as he pulled Sadie back. “Maybe she’s a lesbian. She’s just getting to know you, Rox.”
“I usually need a few drinks in me before I let someone know me that well,” Roxie shot back.
Turning on her heel, she stormed across the parking lot, heading for the small hatchback she owned. Matt didn’t know what color the car had started as, but at some point Roxie had spray-painted the whole thing black. Then, in a fit of creative inspiration, she and several of her artsy college friends had splashed various shades of pearlescent paint over the entire vehicle. The result was hideous, in Matt’s opinion. He wondered if he could duck down far enough in the passenger seat to avoid being seen in such a pile of crap.
Roxie unlocked the hatch. As the door rose, Sadie leapt into the cluttered space inside and immediately began rooting through the papers strewn around. Matt saw unopened junk mail, old bills, and torn magazines in the mix. “You need to clean this out.”
“You need to shut up,” Roxie fired back. “You want a ride or not?”
So much for being nice. Matt had known it would wear off sooner or later.
As she unlocked the driver’s side door, Roxie asked, “So what, I’m taking you to your apartment?”
“Actually…” Matt glanced at his watch as he waited for her to unlock the passenger side door. It was almost 5:30, and Vic wouldn’t be home for another few hours. The day was nice, the sun shining, yesterday’s clouds dispersed—usually after work on a day like this, Matt would take Sadie to the park. She was too big to be cooped up in the apartment all the time.
Thinking quickly, Matt figured it’d take maybe twenty minutes to get from the gym to Byrd Park over in the Lakeside area. Thirty with traffic, if they took the interstate, and it’d be on Roxie’s way home—she lived downtown but always hopped on I-64 to avoid the slowdowns this time of day between the West End and the heart of the city. Lakeside was the last exit before hers, and there he could grab a bite to eat at Roy’s, a locally owned burger stand that would allow him to eat on the curb with Sadie. Hell, he’d get her a burger, as well, maybe two. Then they could walk a few blocks over to the pet store, take a look around there, before heading back to the park. After an hour or so splashing through streams or digging up undergrowth, Matt could meet Vic at the bus stop before he made his final swing through the area. The bus should be fairly empty by then, and Vic would be pleased to see them, Matt knew. Then Vic could take them home.
Climbing into the front seat, Matt asked, “How about you just drop us off at the dog park? It’s sort of on your way home, isn’t it?”
* * * *
Fortunately for Vic, no one noticed the sunglasses or, if they did, they were smart enough not to mention them. Most drivers wore shades anyway—the sun had a nasty habit of lingering just above the buildings during the afternoon commute, blinding everyone who headed straight into it. The windows on the city buses were heavily tinted, too, which helped; fares inside could see out but no one outside could see in unless they stood up real close to the bus. Normally the tint shielded the worst of the glare off the other vehicles on the road. Today, combined with Matt’s Ray Bans, it kept Vic sane.
The only person who commented on the sunglasses was Roger, who pointed at his own face when he boarded the bus around seven that night. “Still wearing the shades, Vic?” he asked. “What, you got a migraine or something?”
With a noncommittal shrug, Vic admitted, “Something like that.”
With the cooler weather, the sun had begun to set sooner, and by the time Vic’s shift was half-over, he noticed the quantity of sunlight change. His eyes felt it first—the muscles around them relaxed for the first time all day, and he stopped squinting to see. By rush hour, a soft dusk had fallen, which soothed Vic further. Normally, as night closed in, he felt the darkness press against the bus around him like a hungry animal, held back only by the blue running lights that illuminated the interior when in service. But tonight, as night fell, the darkness seemed to open up to Vic, expanding his field of vision, bringing into focus a world once obscured by the sun. As the night deepened, his eyesight improved, but the blue lights inside the bus kept the sunglasses firmly in place. They weren’t bright white, that was true, but they still burned his retinas. He’d be happy when his shift was over and he could go home, cuddle with his lover, and trade this power in for something else.
At 7:35 he made his last swing through the Willow Lawn shopping center. Since his bus headed out toward Lakeside, he didn’t pick up too many fares this time of the night—most shoppers were college kids from VCU or housewives who lived in the Fan district downtown. As the few people boarding queued up outside his door, two large men barreled through to the front of the line. Big men, burly, both looked rough and mean in the same way Vic knew most people saw him as being, but he’d never jump a line. When the two clamored aboard, Vic warned, “Hey, watch it.”
“Piss off,” one of them muttered under his breath.
Any other time, Vic would’ve pushed it. But he was at work, and he didn’t have much longer until the end of his day. Still, he half-turned in his seat and leveled a hard glare at the closest jerk, mentally sending one thought his way. ::Give me a reason, dick. You don’t know who you’re fucking with.::
The guy stiffened, stopping in the aisle as if Vic had spoken aloud. He glanced back, scowled at Roger in his wheelchair near the front of the bus, then shoved his friend aside as he pushed toward the back. “Outta my way, Mick.”
Satisfied, Vic turned around and glanced in the mirror above his seat. He watched the two men sprawl across the last seat on the bus, taking up the whole thing. Vic didn’t think anyone would complain—who’d want to sit next to them? Upon further inspection, they looked nothing like he did himself. They were big, yeah, but it was fat, not muscle. Their faded tattoos were jailhouse jobs, nothing professional. The scruff on their faces was unshaven, not deliberately groomed, and greasy hair curled from beneath the woolen caps they wore pulled down over their heads. A telepathic glance deeper and Vic shook his head in disgust. Bob and Mick were their names, and tucked down the front of Bob’s dingy flannel jacket was a video game he’d stolen from one of the stores in the mall. No wonder they were in such a hurry to get on board.
Just for that, Vic waited a long ten minutes at the stop, but no one from the store came rushing out, no police arrived, nothing untoward happened at all. Apparently they weren’t aware a theft had occurred. And face it, Vic told himself as he pulled the bus away from the curb, I’m not the cops. Sure, I could take both jerks down in five minutes, flat, without even breaking a sweat, but I don’t have time to deal with petty crimes right now. My shift ends in what, twenty minutes? I can’t save the world.
And, more importantly, what would Matt have to say if he found out? No, one swiped video game simply wasn’t worth upsetting his lover by playing the hero yet again.
Fortunately, the two caused no real trouble. They hunkered together in the back, passing a paper bag between them and snickering as if they thought they were fooling anyone. Vic knew a bottle of Hennessey sloshed around inside that bag, and both men had used it to drown a handful of poppers once the bus got rolling. The sooner they got off, the better. They rode to a stop along Lakeside, and Vic couldn’t drive away fast enough.
The moment they were gone, Roger made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. “God, can you believe them? Where’s a cop when you need one, eh?”
Vic grunted. In his rearview mirror he watched Mick toss the paper bag into the street; the tinkling of shattering glass could barely be heard over the roar of the bus’s engine, but the two men hung on each other, laughing on the curb, while they watched passing
cars swerve to avoid the mess. “Assholes,” Vic muttered under his breath.
He had three more stops. Roger’s would be the last—he was the only remaining fare—then Vic would hit the interstate and head back to the depot. But as he came around the curve on Lakeside, he almost ran the bus off the road. Standing by the next bus stop sign was…no, it couldn’t be. Vic stretched out his mind to connect with his lover’s. ::Matt?::
::Car’s in the shop.:: The bus slowed and Matt waved, smiling broadly. At his heels sat Sadie, on a short lead to keep her out of traffic. The moment she caught Vic’s presence, though, she was on all four feet, tail wagging vigorously. ::Roxie dropped us off at the dog park and I thought we’d take the bus home.::
::Bus doesn’t head out our way,:: Vic pointed out, pulling to a stop at the curb.
Matt’s smile widened. ::It helps when you’re sleeping with the driver.::
The door opened and Sadie bounded up the bus steps, planting her front paws in Vic’s lap and ducking under his arm for attention. Matt was right behind her. “No pets allowed,” Vic groused. “Only service animals.”
“She’s at work,” Matt assured him, leaning close as if to claim a kiss. “She keeps me company while my sexy, hard-working husband-to-be is—”
The sound of a throat clearing behind them stopped Matt in mid-sentence. Vic could see Roger in the mirror above, eyes wide and gaze averted as he tried to politely remind them they weren’t alone. ::Great,:: Vic told his lover silently. ::Get me fired, will you? He’s ex-military.::
Matt winked. ::Don’t ask, don’t tell.::
Noticing Roger, the dog scrambled down from Vic’s lap, her claws clicking on the metal floor. “Sadie,” Matt admonished, tugging on her lead, but as usual, she ignored him. When she nosed the blunt end of Roger’s leg that ended at his knee, Matt told him, “I’m sorry, man. She’s not real good with commands.”
“Sadie!” Vic barked. “Sit.”
V: The V in Vigilant Page 4