Page 89 of Incubus
"Yeah. Incubus true adulthood, or something. Sounded like a big deal." Nathan stared down at the guitar. “You know...I barely remember Dad playing. Just fragments. Mom singing. Dad playing. We were real young. I guess Dad didn't play as much when we got older. I have this one memory...Dad’s playing, sitting on the couch or something, and we were supposed to be in bed. But we woke up and heard the guitar, so we snuck downstairs. Mom came into the living room, smiling, swaying.And Dad, he…he was singing and playing right to her...right up until she kissed him and set the guitar aside. Then they started dancing, even though there wasn't any music anymore. I wish I could remember what song he played…”
The feel of Jim’s eyes on Nathan was heavier than any comforting hand. He sniffled, pretending some of the dust was still up in his nose, and closed the case. The guitar would need tuning and some body work, but they had time.
“You think he’ll play for us?” Jim asked as they were leaving.
"Oh,” Nathan said, “I think we can do better than that.”
NathancasedoutseveralIrish pubs that were near them. His main concern was finding one with live music.
Their staking out of the Veil doorway had revealed at most a handful of light fae passing through, but no dark. Rather than allow any frustration, Nathan suggested they move on to another frequently trafficked doorway and leave Chicago behind with a bang.
It was Sasha’s birthday, after all.
“With a name like Kelly youhaveto spend your birthday in an Irish pub. Gotta be a rule or something,” Nathan said when they arrived at the bar, pushing past the rush of people that had already started pouring in for the night.
The guitar remained in the safety of their current car’s trunk. Jim had given Nathan a hinting look when they first parked, but Nathan had shaken his head. He wanted to get through a few rounds first so Sasha would be more complacent when the time came. Nathan also liked the idea of getting his brother to loosen up for a night. Jim had been more even-tempered since their talk the other night, but tonight Nathan planned to do better.
Sasha was positively beaming when they grabbed a table. “I guess this means we have to order a pint of Guinness, huh?”
“At least,” Nathan nodded.
“We drove here, remember?” Jim said, despite his own remarkably relaxed expression. “Someone has to stay sober.”
“That’s what public transportation is for,” Nathan shrugged. They would be leaving Chicago by doorway the next morning so they didn’t need to keep the car.
“Are we allowed to ask for Irish Car Bombs in an Irish pup?” Sasha asked with a sideways smirk.
“I think they’re called Depth Charges in Ireland,” Jim offered.
“Whiskey, Baileys, and Guinness?” Nathan said. “Sounds good to me.” He caught sight of one of the waitresses flitting past them and quickly put in the order. “So. Do you feel any different?”
“Me? Not really,” Sasha said. “It’s not like this epic transformation or anything, I just won’t age past this. Nothing else really changes for my kind when we hit adulthood. Well, except that we can take a mate.”
Nathan coughed into his glass of complimentary water.
“Most wait until they’re in their hundreds for that though, if they take a mate at all,” Sasha added, which at least kept Nathan from choking.
He shot a look of mild irritation at Sasha and chose to ignore the suppressed grin he just knew Jim was sporting. As long as they all had a good time tonight, Nathan was willing to take a few hits to his pride.
An hour later, Nathan had lost count of how many drinks had passed over their table. He poured their newest double shot down his throat and hummed. It burned warmly the way alcohol was supposed to, but not so strong that he wanted something else to wash it down.
“I think I better hit the bathroom quick,” Nathan said, moving to slide out of his chair and giving Jim a long stare.
Jim’s eyes widened in recognition.
“Sasha,” Jim said, grabbing Sasha’s arm across the table in case the incubus tried to go with Nathan, “next drink's on me, okay?”
The incubus laughed and said, “Only if you promise you’ll have whatever I have.”
That ought to be good, Nathan thought.
He made quick work of getting out to the car and removing the guitar from the trunk, feeling pretty good with over an hour’s worth of alcohol in his belly. They had positioned themselves so that Sasha’s back was to the door just for this moment.
“Happy birthday, man,” Nathan said to Sasha as he slid back into his seat. He propped the guitar case against the table between them and waited for realization to strike.
Sasha looked absolutely stunned. He gaped for a solid minute before looking up and catching Nathan and Jim’s eyes in turn. “You bought me a guitar?”
“Hell no,” Nathan laughed, “I’m not spending that kind of money on you.”
