The Year of the Salamander - 22. Chapter 22

“Des,” Gabriel said very firmly. “We need to talk...”Those words made Desmond uneasy before Rayhe even closed his mouth. He remembered the last time Gabriel said that. Nothing good happened then.

“What?” he said tightly.

“Solstice is in two days,” Gabriel said, and Desmond relaxed ever so slightly.

“I got your damn present,” he muttered. “Patience is a virtue, you know...”

“You did?” Rayhe sounded genuinely surprised. “Huh... No, that’s not what I meant,” he shook his head impatiently.

“I don’t care if you didn’t get me anything,” Desmond rolled his eyes. “Believe me, my present is going to benefit both of us...”

“I got your present on the second of November,” Gabriel said with reproach. “I am not talking about presents. Sam told me that he wants nothing but dinner this year...”

“Huh?” Desmond narrowed his eyes. “You were going to cook anyway, I know that... But I thought that he would be spending holidays with his ‘fire guy’...”

“He would be,” Gabriel nodded. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about... He wants you and me to have dinner with him and Blair.”

Desmond blinked at that.

“I beg your pardon...” he said after a minute.

“You heard me,” Rayhe said steadily.

“Dinner...” Desmond said very thoughtfully. “Dinner with him and that guy?”

“His name is Blair,” Gabriel nodded again. “And yes, that’s what he wants.”

“Hmmm...” Desmond frowned in a thoughtful manner. “Well, sure...” he said finally, and Gabriel’s eyes went wide with disbelief. “As soon as hell freezes over,” Desmond said, and Gabriel let out an exasperated sigh. “Rayhe, did you add something to your eggnog? I mean, you should know my answer by now...”

“Des...” Gabriel closed his eyes for a second. “You are a selfish, stubborn son of a bitch three hundred sixty four days out of the year... Is it possible for you to become a somewhat normal human for one bloody day...? I mean, would it kill you?”

“Yes,” Desmond nodded very seriously. “Yes, it would.”

“No, it would not,” Gabriel said without looking away. “We are having the goddamn dinner, okay? Suck it up and shut up!”

“He told you that before the end of November, didn’t he?” Desmond narrowed his eyes.

“Yes, he did,” Gabriel nodded.

“You didn’t get him anything, did you?”

“No, I did not.”

“You promised him that you’d drag me there, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Goddammit, Rayhe...!”

“Des, just have a freaking dinner, okay? It’s a meal, that’s all. You don’t even have to talk to him, just eat. I will do the talking.”

“Rayhe...”

“I’ll make the damn fettuccine for a month straight if you go.”

“I am not doing the dishes until April.”

“Des, when was the last time you did the dishes? Two years ago, before you met me?”

“Fine, you will not bitch about me not doing the dishes until April then...”

“Fine. Will you go?”

“Maybe.”

...Next morning, Desmond woke up at eleven in the morning, silently thanked Solstice break, got out of bed, after smirking to himself about the fact that Rayhe had to work until four today, took a shower, and shuffled into the kitchen. The dog was sitting by the sliding glass door, thoughtfully staring outside. He turned towards Desmond and got up, his tail beating both of his sides enthusiastically.

“Don’t even think about it,” Desmond muttered when the dog moved towards him with a clear intent to give him his usual nose-in-the-crotch greeting. “I don’t care that you are going to be bigger than this fridge soon. Shove your nose between my legs, and I will hurt you.”

The dog sighed and sat down without shifting his gaze from Desmond’s face. The man ignored him the best he could. Finally, after he finished making coffee and toast, he rolled his eyes.

“What?” he asked sharply when the dog just stared at him.

The dog nervously moved his ears, got up, and walked towards the cabinet where dog food was located. Then he sat down again, staring at Desmond with weak urgency. Desmond sighed.

“Goddammit...” he muttered. “Sam fed you last night, you damn pony! I am not giving you any more food!”

The dog let out a small whining noise and started beating his tail on the floor.

“Son of a...” Desmond said desperately. “Fine! Get out of the kitchen!”

Desmond yanked the door of the cabinet open and stared at the big bucket they used for dog food storage.

“Oh, bloody hell...” he said when he realized that the bucket was empty. “Sorry, mutt,” he closed the door. “You will have to wait until your master gets you more food. A word of warning – it’s not gonna happen until much, much later tonight. See, he is making out with his fire guy, so by the time he is finally done, it will be probably after midnight. Go gnaw your paw off or something...”

Then he realized that since it was Solstice Eve, everything would be closing at four in the afternoon. He swore up a mild storm, making the dog blink nervously, quickly ate his toast, and finished his coffee. Then he sighed somewhat heavily and looked at the dog.

“You’d better be grateful for this,” he muttered and went back into the bedroom to get his sweater and jacket. Five minutes later, he was by the front door, putting on his boots.

“I am off to get dog food,” he said to no one in particular, and sighed again.

He grabbed his car keys, melancholically thinking that at least it stopped raining. It was snowing heavily lately, but if he had to choose between rain and snow, it would definitely be snow.

...He got to the pet store fifteen minutes later and went straight towards the dog food isle. He stared at different kinds of food, trying to remember what Sam usually got for that damn mutt. Finally, after failing to recall even the color of the bag, let alone the name (not because he forgot, but because he never even looked at the stupid bag), he shrugged, and grabbed the cheapest one. Dog food is dog food, he reasoned. Not like the mutt would end up getting food poisoning or something, which, frankly, wouldn’t upset Desmond too much.

He got the bag, went outside, and shoved it into the trunk of his car. Then he realized that the pet store was a block away from the bookstore, and that he wanted to raid that store for the last couple of weeks. He decided to walk there, partially because the weather wasn’t too bad, and also because he would probably get there quicker on foot than crawling in holiday traffic.

He got there in less than ten minutes and went straight to the magic section. He browsed through the books until he found what he was looking for – a book about different sorts of sacrificial weapons. The volume was fairly thick, and Desmond hoped that it covered pretty much everything. He grabbed the book and straightened up without paying much attention to his surroundings.

“Oh!” someone said in a startled voice and Desmond turned around.

“Eve?” he said incredulously and she looked up.

“Oh!” she said again with an embarrassed smile and picked up the books that she dropped. “Umm, Delvin, right?”

“Close enough,” he nodded. “Desmond.”

“Right,” she squeezed her eyes shut for a second. “I am sorry, I am not great when it comes to remembering things... How’s Sam? I haven’t seen him in a while...”

“He is good,” Desmond nodded, briefly glancing at the books in her hands. “Getting ready for the next semester?”

“Kinda,” she shrugged. “There is a class I might need to take...” She sighed. “I thought I was done with the whole ordeal in the summer...”

“What class is that?” Desmond asked absent-mindedly, thinking that he should head home rather soon because it was getting close to the lunch hour, and the traffic would get even worse.

“History of ancient magic,” she sighed bitterly. “I took the stupid class back in August, thought I was done with it... Turns out, there is another portion of it that I didn’t know about...” She waved her hand in the air. “I’ll just keep my fingers crossed... Maybe I won’t have to take it after all.”

“Good luck with that,” Desmond nodded seriously. “Well, it was nice seeing you, Eve. I’m gonna go. I need to feed the dog,” he said darkly.

“Oh yeah?” Now she sounded curious. “What kind of a dog?”

“Akbash,” Desmond said gloomily, and something strange flashed in her eyes.

“Those are...” She coughed carefully. “...big,” she finished, and Desmond snorted.

“I’d say,” he nodded. “Well, happy holidays, Eve.”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “Same to you...” She balanced the books on her knee and stretched out her hand. “Say hi to Sam, will you?”

“Sure,” Desmond shook her fingers. “Need help with those?” he nodded at her books.

“Oh, no,” she shook her head. “I am not even sure if I’ll get them or not... Just comparing the prices right now.”

“I see,” Desmond nodded. “Good-bye, Eve.”

“Bye, Del... Desmond!”

He gave her a quick smile and went away. He got the book and started walking towards the pet store parking lot where he left his car. He felt funny; he couldn’t identify exactly why he felt that way, but he felt funny. “There was something about her...” he thought with a small frown. “God, what in the world was it?” He had no idea and it was driving him mad, like an itch he couldn’t reach.

He made it to his car, got inside, and threw the book onto the passenger’s seat. He turned the key in the ignition, still trying to figure out what it was that made him feel this way, and threw the car into reverse without even glancing in the mirror. Suddenly, there was a loud and pissed off honk, and then he felt the back of his car smack into something rather hard. Desmond closed his eyes for a second.

“Goddammit...” he muttered finally and turned off the car.

He got outside, fuming in dark and helpless manner, perfectly aware of the fact that he was the one to blame for this mishap, and he hated that. He had several half-hearted ‘I-am-sorry’s rolling on the tip of his tongue when he saw the owner of the other car get out as well, and then he became mute. Apparently, the other guy was as startled as Desmond, because he froze the minute he saw the culprit of the accident.

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me!” they said finally at the same time. “It’s you?!”

Then they both frowned almost simultaneously, after realizing they said all those words in perfect unison.

“Goddammit!” they said again, and winced this time, after yet another unison.

Desmond could not believe this. It was the same idiot from the coffee shop he ran into back in September, the one who couldn’t figure out what the hell he wanted to get. The one with weird-colored eyes. Well, apparently, the said idiot was thinking the same thing because his expression matched Desmond’s to a t.

“Are you blind?” the idiot said finally very sharply.

“I am not blind,” Desmond said evenly. “And if you would look around you, you would see someone trying to get out of a parking spot!”

He knew that the incident was his fault, but he would be damned if he apologized to this guy.

“I was looking,” the guy nodded energetically. “I was looking, and I saw you fly out of there without even glancing around! I didn’t have any time to slam on my brake, let alone back up!”

“How is your slow reaction my fault?” Desmond snapped, and the color of the guy’s eyes started getting lighter. “If you can’t handle holiday traffic, stay at home... Or call a cab,” he added, noting the fact that the guy’s eyes were so light right now, they seemed almost yellow. Somehow, he knew it was not a good thing. They stared at each other for a full minute, and then there was another loud honk. This time, both of them blinked simultaneously.

“Move it, assholes!” a big, red-faced man shouted angrily from the truck behind that guy’s car. “Learn how to park and bloody move it!”

“Shut up!” they barked at the same time, and the red-faced man’s face became even redder – a thing that Desmond found hilarious even now.

“You damn pricks!” he growled and opened the door, attempting to get out.

“Get into that damn truck of yours if you know what’s good for you,” Desmond said quietly, and the man blinked several times. He looked as if he was about to burst into a string of obscenities, but then he looked into Desmond’s eyes and snapped his mouth shut. He slammed the door of his truck and backed up a little. A minute later, he was gone.

“Dipshit,” Desmond muttered.

The guy’s eyes were back to normal and he looked at the hood of his car.

“There is nothing there,” Desmond said sharply after examining the back of his own car, and realizing with greatest relief that there was indeed nothing there. “Look, just back up a little and let me go, okay? You are fine, so just get out of here...”

“Not until you apologize,” the guy said with dark satisfaction.

Desmond looked at him thoughtfully for a couple of seconds, and finally, he smiled almost sweetly.

“I am sorry,” he said mildly, and the guy’s mouth twitched slightly. “I am really sorry that your poor driving skills prevent you from stopping before you run into a solid, barely moving object...”

He knew that his car was far from a ‘barely moving object’ when he was backing up, but he couldn’t help himself. It was his fault entirely, but he would rather stab himself with one of those damn sacrificial daggers than apologize to this guy. He knew he was a complete dick right now, and he didn’t care. The guy’s eyes started lightening again, more rapidly now, and Desmond noticed that the car right in front of his just pulled out of the spot.

“Happy Solstice,” he said lightly and got into his car. He turned it on and slammed on his gas pedal, thinking that if someone were trying to get into that parking spot right in front of him, he’d be screwed. He was lucky, however, and flew out of parking lot without smacking into anyone else. He glanced in the rear-view mirror and saw that guy stare at him with pure hatred. Desmond grinned and turned into the main road. He felt good. This whole incident made him forget about Eve and the weird nagging feeling that caused the entire thing.