Hooked [Complete]

6. Pub Talk

Author's Note:

Song for this Chapter - Devil's Dream by The Devil's Dream Fiddles

https://open.spotify.com/track/7xu31jLlhnRTSbvUcQjQGd?si=nJ785ByTTo6ZbpMbKPNc1A

Dru and Sean parted awkwardly at the North end of campus.

He offered to walk her through the tiny downtown, to her dorm.

"I'm not going to my dorm."

"Are you going downtown? I'll go with you," he offered again.

"No thanks. I'm going to find some fun, okay? Look, I'll catch up with you later." Her tone was edged with frost, and Sean blinked, his jaw tightening as he took the hint that being with him not fun, at least not right now.

"Sure, later," he nodded, and turned to toward his own dorm.

She watched his retreating form. Beneath his vest she saw his shoulders hunch with tension as he shoved his hands into the front pockets. She had pissed him off; she guessed she'd meant too. She didn't really know why, she had been surprised to hear how cruel her tone sounded, even to her own ears. She didn't know why she was so angry with him. He had done nothing but be a good friend to Lana, and be honest with her, and it wasn't his fault Dru had made a no dating vow to herself.

She sighed. Sean was a good guy. He deserved someone better than her, anyway.

She didn't know either, why she had told Sean she was going downtown. The last thing she intended to do was party. She was getting back on track, back to routine, back to her plan to focus on school. She had work to do already, from her two days worth of classes. She would grab a coffee, head back to her dorm, hit the books.

Blue Coyote Coffee Company was one door past Malone's, and Dru had every intention of taking the second entrance, but the doors to Malone's were propped open, even at this chilly time of year, and a familiar strain from an Irish fiddle stopped her stride. Curious, she stepped inside—just to confirm her suspicion of who was playing.

The red-headed woman from last night's "class" was holding court on the small stage at the back of the restaurant, and she had quite a crowd of admirers—mostly guys. She was a playing a different piece than last night—a playful Irish jig. She leapt around the stage, her hair flying wildly, but never seeming to get caught in her bow. Dru watched as the patrons' heads followed her movements, almost like they were mesmerized. They clapped wildly as she finished the piece, which was strange—Dru been in here many times when there was live music, and the college crowd typically viewed the entertainment as background to their drinking and cavorting, not as the main attraction.

"Thank you," Carrie winked at the crowd, her cheeks appling with a flirtatious smile. Then she seemed to look straight through Dru, her smile frozen, her eyes losing all flirtation and shooting daggers as she said, "This next one is called Devil's Dream." She struck a harsh discord with her bow that made Dru jump.

Dru jumped again as she felt the heat of a large body suddenly behind her, and the rumble of a deep chuckle rise from its center.

She turned to find Hearne close yet again—too close, but his eyes were focused on Carrie with mirth.

"Witch," he growled, shaking his head. Then he looked down at Dru, and his eyes widened in surprise.

"Whoa. What's got you so pissed off, girl?"

"What did you say?" she challenged.

He leaned against the bar, his frame stretching lazily as he gave her an up and down, but somehow he made it seem like more of an...assessment than a leer. He took a sip of his pint, and repeated patiently, "I said...what's got you so pissed off? It's not Finn again is it?"

"What?" Dru moved her feet to back away from him, but she found herself stepping up to the bar next to him. "You're a professor, you know. You shouldn't be...talking to me this way."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, and she felt stupid for implying...what exactly was she implying? That he was flirting with her? He hadn't said anything overtly out of line. Jesus, what was she thinking? He wasn't making advances...he was just... sexy by default. It was Dru's imagination advancing things.

He took another sip of his beer, his green eyes flitting to Carrie as she struck another intentionally discordant refrain in the middle of her devil song. Dru felt even stupider...obviously Hearne and the red-head were together.

She turned to go. Hearne said, "I would have thought a girl like you could easily handle a guy like Finn. I've seen your student file."

She froze. She bent her head, her face flaming once again, wondering exactly how much he knew. Her juvenile records were supposed to be sealed, her medical file confidential.

"What exactly does it say?"

"Enough."

She turned to go, but he stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.

"Hey, do I look like a guy that's led an easy life? " he said softly, turning to face her, opening his arms slightly, so that she could take in the full measure of his tattoos beneath his fitted t-shirt. The curving tribal patterns were cleverly designed to hide scars. Short ones, like scratches or stab marks, and painful-looking whelts that recalled deep slash marks. Dozens, maybe hundreds, of them.

Dru blinked, suddenly conscious that she was staring, but Hearne held her gaze, not the least bit self-conscious.

"I'm not judging you, Dru. I only bring it up to let you know...I've done alot of crazy things. Some I felt like I had to, and some..." he looked at the red-head again, "Some I regret. I understand what it's like...to have a past. To try to change your future. I'm just saying if you need help—I'm around."

"Thanks, but I don't need any help," Dru mumbled, turning again to go.

"Are you sure?" he called, a devious lilt to his voice. "You can't go around collapsing bonfires every time you get a little...excited."

Dru stepped toward him again. "What did you say?"

He ignored her and turned up his glass. Dru watched the tribal patterns on his neck shifting through his heavy swallows. He put the glass down decidedly and nodded a good-bye to the bartender. Then he turned back to Dru with the most wicked grin she had ever seen on a human being.

"Why do you keep asking me that, girl? You heard me. You can't blow shit up every time you get turned on. It's scary."

"I don't know what you are talking about," Dru whispered.

"Don't you?" Hearne asked darkly as he shirked on a floor length suede coat. He leaned close and Dru involuntarily gasped, breathing in his scent--musk and green things. "If you change your mind—if you decide you need help working through...that particular problem...you let me know."

He inhaled in her ear, like he was scenting her, and then he was gone...whirling away, weaving his way through the crowd and out the door, leaving Dru quaking. She just had no idea if it was from fear, or desire.

A/N: The next chapter is a fun one...Hearne and Carrie have a nostalgic moment! Oh, by the way...that little star button is right there. Just sayin'.