Rabbit Blood

Chapter 52 - The Chapter Without Leslie

Angel Dust meant to turn in early for the night, but he followed the sound of jukeboxed Xavier Cugat through the lobby and found the staff playing poker. Charlie and Vags, Alastor, smoking a cigarette - bastard - and Husk in a shirt and necktie. When the latter caught Angel's eye, his hand brushed over his left whiskers, almost a grooming gesture.

"Ya don't gotta preen for me, sweetums," Angel said brashly, clapping a hand on the man's shoulder. There was a certain refuge to be had in audacity - just the opposite of Al and Leslie's furtive looks that spoke volumes. On some level, Husk understood this, but he didn't like the risk.

"Get off, you tarted-up hooker," he growled.

Vaggie rolled her eyes; she was wedged, as usual, between Charlie and Alastor, and wearing a wool sweater. "Wanna join? We're starting a new hand."

Angel's eyes swept over the table, seeing a mix of cards, face-up and -down. "Sure, what is it, seven-card stud?" He took the seat to Husk's right and accepted some worthless pirate coins from Charlie. Gaming was fine under her watch, gambling no. The buccaneer skulls on his stack grinned at him semi-toothlessly.

Alastor tapped his cig against an empty shot glass. He hadn't said anything yet, so Angel pressed him: "Where's Niff?"

"Oh, she backed out a while ago!" he buzzed. "Nothing reminds her of all the things she has to do quite like a losing streak."

"Uh-huh."

"Ante's two coins, bring-in is three," Husk said, effortlessly using his claw to deal. As Angel had the lowest upcard, he brought in and opened the bet with another five.

"Ooh, five," Charlie cooed. "How daring."

"They're plastic."

They carried on. Alastor often folded, which was typical for him, but so did Charlie - and she was usually such a loose player. Tonight she seemed content to watch the seasoned players hash it out in relative silence. Vaggie held her hand under the table.

"Wazza matta, princess?" Husk said, right as Alastor squashed the end of his cigarette in the glass.

"Husker..." Al said, "who taught you empathy?"

"Oh, you know," Charlie admitted, "thinking about the extermination. It's, er... not good for morale."

"Know what I think?" Vaggie said. "You should arrange some kind of get-together. Take the guests' minds off it."

"Sure," said Angel. "Lotta folks gettin' "illegally" plastered anyways. Might as well keep 'em in the buildin'."

"'Hell loves a party', remember, hun?"

Charlie nodded. "Yeah, they do."

Then Alastor leaned over, aiming an affectionate punch at the royal chin, and told her to cheer up: someone like her should never look so sad! For once, Angel felt as viscerally protective as Vaggie always did. Their eyes met glaring at Alastor.

All the same, Charlie did brighten up. "What sort of get-together? Like a disco?"

Thankfully, Husk waved at them before they could get too deep into it, and the game continued. Now and then Husk excused himself to 'take a leak' and came back with whiskey-breath, but nobody called him on it. Angel was only sorry for his absences, because it made Alastor a more unavoidable presence. It would be so easy to wipe that grin off his face and tell the group everything. It was just a question of a) how quickly Angel would be killed, and b) what would happen to Leslie before her safety could be assured.

"So, that explosion the other day!" Alastor declared. "That was an entertaining spectacle!"

"Easy for you ta say," Angel replied, "ya didn't have work friends inside."