Butterfly Hunter 01 by Julie Bozza Read Free Book Online Page B

Charlie replied.
    “ Oh shut up,”
Dave grumbled.
    “ In fact ,” Charlie continued as if he
hadn’t even heard, “I’d say you were in like Flynn there, Nicholas
…”
    The man’s bashfully
pleased pinkness bloomed further.
    Before Charlie added with
regret, “If only Dave weren’t a one–woman man.”
    “ Oh God!” Dave
cried. “You all think you know what you’re talking about, but you
don’t. You just don’t.”
    “ We don’t?”
Charlie asked.
    “ No. That’s
just –” He made it a rule not to swear around clients, even if they
expected him to. “Nonsense. That’s just nonsense.”
    Charlie put his head back
and considered Dave for a long long moment … before nudging
Nicholas with an elbow. “In like Flynn, mate.”
    Nicholas guffawed quite
happily.
    “ Fuck’s sake,”
muttered Dave. And he went to get a round of beer.
     
    Despite the
pub ’s incessant cheerful noise, Dave was
close enough to hear that Charlie and Nicholas were soon nattering
away about Dreamtime sites and blue clouds and stone–curlews. Dave
shook his head in self–mocking disbelief. So much for tact! He was
sure that Charlie would fill him in if they reached any practical
conclusions, so he was happy enough to leave them to it.
    While waiting to order,
Dave thumbed through to a browser on his phone. He’d joined Twitter
a couple of years ago, because Denise had gotten into it, but he’d
hardly even looked at it since they’d broken up. He was already
connected to Charlie, of course. And as soon as he started
scrolling through Charlie’s list of followers, he found Nicholas.
His profile image was, unsurprisingly, a photo of a beautiful blue
butterfly. Dave thumbed the Follow button, and then started
browsing the man’s tweets. Nothing particularly significant, beyond
an excitement over the prospect of this trip. Otherwise it seemed
to be chat with a wide variety of friends, interspersed with
vaguely philosophical questions relating to a butterfly’s life and
transformation. Does the
butterfly remember its former larval self? Dave read. Another one earlier in the timeline: What does a pupa dream of while
becoming fabulous?
    Nicholas my
man, Charlie had replied to that
one, you tell me. What did YOU
dream of?
    No, I’m still
the caterpillar. I’m not fabulous yet.
    Are you so sure about that, my
friend?
    Charles, I’m
hardly even dreaming yet …
    Dave looked up, and found
Nicholas’s deep dark blue gaze upon him, and for a moment the world
around them went still and quiet. They stared at each other, and
Dave knew. He knew, somehow, that something within Nicholas had
changed since that exchange of tweets. Something that wouldn’t –
that couldn’t change back. He wondered if …
    But then Charlie nudged
Nicholas and indicated a location on the map they had spread before
them, and Rosie behind the bar asked, “You right, Dave?” and the
moment was gone.
    Dave frowned, pretending
to be considering which beers they had on tap. But it was a
no–brainer, and Rosie knew it. “Three Cascades, thanks,
mate.”
    When he got back to the
table, Nicholas and Charlie still had their heads bent close
together over the map. Charlie sat back, and accepted the beer with
a grateful nod. The glass was already beading with condensation.
Nicholas accepted his, too, with a happy smile – and then he turned
to consider Charlie for a long moment. Took in Charlie’s
thoughtfulness, and then tactfully lowered his gaze. Waiting, with
no expectation. Sipping at his beer.
    If Nicholas had looked up
at Dave in those moments, Dave suspected that he would have found a
very fond expression looking back at him. Perhaps it was as well
that he didn’t.
    Half of Dave’s Cascade
slid coolly down a welcoming throat.
    Eventually Charlie sat up,
and said to Nicholas, “Show me again.”
    “ Here,”
murmured Nicholas, one of his long pale fingers marking a rough
circle towards the south–west corner of Queensland. “This sort