I felt a sharp tap on my shoulder and turned around.
A burly guy wearing olive green overalls and a black T-shirt shoved a clipboard in my face. “Can you sign for the keg of O negative?”
“The keg of what?”
“O neg. Just sign right there on the dotted line.” He tapped the clipboard.
Behind him was a silver keg, which I would have suspected was filled with beer. Normally, that is. I figured O neg wasn’t a code name for alcohol. But who delivers kegs of blood to vampire bars?
I squinted down at the delivery form. The Blood Delivery Guys was the name of the company. Well, that made sense.
I signed on the dotted line like a good employee; then the guy snatched the clipboard out of my hands and headed for the back door. He sure was in a big hurry. I wondered how many deliveries he had that night. How many other vamp hangouts were there in Toronto, anyhow?
The customers began to filter in at the turn of the hour, none of them looking as amazed and out of sorts as I had last night. They all looked as if they’d been there many times before and were used to entering the club through a tanning salon. The band took the stage at nine-thirty and filled the smoky air with dark sexy music.
If I tried to push the thought out of my mind that all of these people were vampires, then it would have felt like any other club. Nothing out of the ordinary. None of these people wanted trouble. They’d come here to escape the troubles they had outside and be safe and secure for a couple of hours. Just like me. It was a soothing thought. For a moment. Then I remembered Dan and his buddy and what they did to Quinn. What had Thierry said? Vamps can be good or bad… just like humans.
“And what can I get for you tonight?” I sidled up to the newest couple to enter the club. After a couple of hours I was getting used to the job. Nobody was giving me a hard time. I got a few looks, of course. People either didn’t recognize me at all, or they thought I was Thierry’s new girlfriend. I didn’t waste my breath trying to argue with them. Thierry hadn’t shown up yet, and that was the only thing that was causing me any stress. Other than that, I felt very much at ease at Midnight Eclipse.
The man at the table smiled at me. It was difficult to call him a man, though. He looked more like a college student out after a long night of studying. He was clean-cut, with blond hair and a smooth, hairless face. He wore a short-sleeved blue-and-white-striped polo shirt and dark blue pants. “I’ll have an AB positive and orange juice, please.”
Big spender, I thought. AB positive was a rare blood type, and I’d learned the rarer the blood, the more expensive the shot was. It made sense in a strange Stephen King sort of way.
“Cool.” I jotted the order down on a pad of paper I’d found in Thierry’s office. I had a pretty lousy memory. “And for you?”
I turned to his girlfriend. Definitely not of the clean-cut variety. Of anyone tonight, she looked the most like she belonged in a vampire club. On top of black jeans she wore a deep-cut black shirt that left very little of her pale cleavage to the imagination. Her face was so white that it looked unhealthy. She wore dark red lipstick, black eyeliner, and had dark hair so long that it had to be extensions. Her nose and eyebrow were both pierced with small silver hoops.
She looked up at me with a fashionably morose expression on her pale face. “Vodka. Straight up.”
“No blood?” If she said no, she’d be the first one tonight.
“Nope.”
“Anything else?”
“Nope.”
I turned away and headed over to the bar to give Zelda my order.
“Vodka straight up?” she asked with a frown.
“Yeah. No blood.”
“Who’s this for?”
I glanced over my shoulder. “Table twelve.”
Zelda peered through the darkness and then shook her head. “Oh no, not them again.”
I turned to follow her gaze. “What?”
“It’s Timothy Langdon and his human girlfriend.”
My eyebrows shot up. “She’s human?”
“Wannabe vamp.”
“So, what’s the big deal?”
Zelda kept shaking her head. “If Thierry finds out they’re here, he’s going to flip out.”
“Why? What’s the problem?”
Just then, I saw a whir of motion to my left. The door to the club from the tanning salon opened wide and a good-looking guy came inside. He walked directly toward us. Well, toward Zelda. He barely glanced at me. His hair was the color of golden sand and fell just past his shoulders in a fine curtain. He was built like a Chippendale dancer and looked like he regularly made use of the tanning beds out front. His muscular pecs peeked out from beneath the thin white shirt he wore on top of tight black leather pants.
“Zelda, honey,” he said. And with those two words uttered from his full, perfect lips, I realized that this grade-A prime rib of hotness was as gay as the day is long. What a waste. “What’s the big emergency? From the message Barry left me, it sounded like the world is ending.”
“It is, George. Brace yourself.” Her expression was grim. “Maybe you should sit down.”
His face stiffened. He swung his firm tush onto a stool and looked at her apprehensively. “Spill.”
“Ralph’s dead.”
“What?” The word was a wail. “How?”
Zelda reached out her hand and touched George’s arm in a comforting gesture. “Hunters, of course.”
“Damn it.” George’s voice quavered. “Damn it, damn it, damn it.” He took a deep, shuddery breath. “Does this mean I have to work a double shift?”
Zelda paused. “No.”
“Thank Christ. Well, you know what? It serves Ralph right to get his ass staked. He never looked both ways before he crossed the street.” George finally looked at me. “Hello there, beautiful, and who are you?”
I extended my hand a bit. “Sarah.”
He took my hand, but instead of shaking it, he kissed it. “Nice to have something in here that’s new and gorgeous to look at.”
“Gee.” I smiled at him. “That’s sweet. And I assumed you were gay.”
“I am, honey. I’m just not blind.”
I wasn’t sure if I hated this guy or if I immediately wanted to go shopping with him. Time would tell.
Zelda measured out the shot of AB positive from a nearby keg. I eyed her with curiosity.
“Where does the blood come from, anyhow?” I asked.
She poured out a glass of orange juice before she looked up at me. “The delivery service.”
I frowned. “Yeah, I got that. But where do they get it from?”
“Donors, mostly. People paid to give over their blood. It’s quite the little business. Competitive too, since there’re a few delivery services around.”
“There are that many donors in Toronto?”
“A lot of it comes from the States,” George chimed in. “The expensive, extra-tasty blood is imported from Europe. When supplies run low, there’s always the synthetic version, but that tastes a bit, well, synthetic. Or, even worse”—he made a face—“animal blood. Yech.”
I tried to keep the disgust off my face. “Well, that sounds pleasant.”
“You asked.” George shrugged. “Where’s the boss? I wanted to ask him about a raise, and since Ralph’s not around anymore, this might be a good time to emphasize how much he needs me.”
“He’s out,” I told him. “Should be back soon. I need to talk to him, too. Badly.”
He eyed me. “Honey, you just started. I get the raise first, okay?”
I was about to explain that I wouldn’t be competing for a few extra bucks, but decided it wasn’t worth the effort. “Sure. Whatever.”
Zelda slapped the drinks down on a round tray for me. “Take these out. Tell Timothy to drink them and get out of here before Thierry gets back.”
I swallowed. “I don’t know if I feel comfortable doing that.”
She blinked at me. “Have you ever seen Thierry when he gets mad
?”
“You don’t call him master, huh?”
“I’m too old to call anybody master. Answer the question. Have you seen him mad?”
I thought back to how he’d reacted last night when I’d mentioned his suicide attempt. The flash of fury and violence that went through his silver eyes. My arms were suddenly covered with goose bumps. “Does he go all green and scary like the Hulk?”
“Worse,” George said.
I grabbed the drinks and went back over to table twelve. I didn’t want to be rude, but God knew I was capable of it. In fact, I was quite good at it. I guess that was one tip that night I wouldn’t be able to count on.
“Timothy, right?” I said as I handed him the drink.
He smiled at me. “That’s right. You’re new around here, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. I’m Sarah.”
The girlfriend made an unhappy sound in her throat.
Take it easy, sweetheart, I thought. Not trying to move in on your man.
I placed the vodka in front of her. “Consider these drinks on the house, okay?”
“Really?” Timothy looked surprised. “Thanks a lot. What’s the occasion?”
“Your getting the hell out of here as soon as you chug them back.”
“Pardon me?”
“Who the hell do you think you are?” the girlfriend snapped.
I shifted the drink tray to my other arm. “I’m the gal standing between the two of you getting physically booted out of here. You guys were told not to come here anymore.”
“It’s a free country.” Timothy’s voice rose a level.
“Maybe out there.” I nodded toward the door. “In here you have to follow the rules.”
“You bitch,” the girlfriend spat at me.
I turned to her. “Listen, metal head, I don’t want any trouble. Believe me, I’ve had enough trouble today to last me a good long time. So drink your drinks and get the hell out of here.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Bite me.”
“Yeah.” I smirked at her. “I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
That comment earned me the vodka, straight up, thrown wetly right in my face.
I wiped my eyes and just knew that my painstakingly applied eye makeup was running. “You did not just throw a drink in my face.”
We’d gotten the attention of the other vampires in our area of the club. I tried to ignore their curious gazes.
She got up from the table and stood her ground defiantly. “You’re not kicking us out of here. We’re staying.”
“Melanie—” Timothy’s voice held an edge of warning.
“Come on,” Melanie said to me, “just try to throw me out, you bloodsucking bitch.”
She went down with only one punch. I hadn’t even planned on throwing it. My fist acted of its own accord. It was the vodka that made me do it—the vodka currently dripping down my chin.
“Sarah.”
The word froze me in place. It wasn’t said with menace or threat, it was quite calm. Too calm. I tried to dry my face off with the corner of my sleeve before turning around. Thierry stood six feet behind me with his arms crossed.
I shrugged. “She was asking for it.”
He didn’t reply. He looked down at the girl and then his gaze trailed over to Timothy, whose face had paled considerably.
“I…” Timothy began. “I’m sorry, master. She wanted to come here. I know I should have said no, but—”
“Leave this place.” Thierry’s voice was still very calm, but there was something underneath, something dark and deep and scary beyond words.
“Yes. We will,” Timothy said without meeting his eyes. “Again, so sorry.”
He got up from the table and pulled at Melanie. She held a hand to her nose, which was now gushing blood. I guess I was stronger than I thought. Hmm, maybe some of my vampire strength was beginning to develop. Nice.
Thierry didn’t look at him; he stared straight forward, the expression on his face unreadable. But as Timothy brushed past him, Thierry reached out to grab the boy’s arm and drew him near enough to say something quietly to him. It wasn’t quiet enough that I didn’t hear it, though.
“Return again and it will be the last thing you do.” His voice was like a glint of metal, the click of a gun’s safety going off. Dangerous. “You, and your human.”
Timothy didn’t answer; he just nodded in a short burst of movement. Then he and Melanie made for the door and the cold streets outside.
“You.” Thierry was now addressing me. I felt suddenly naked, and pulled the empty drink tray against my chest as a pathetic form of protection.
“Uh-huh?”
“Clean yourself up and return to work.” He turned away and went toward his corner table in the shadows.
Didn’t really care for the “asshole employer” tone of voice, but I did feel kind of sheepish about what had just happened. I had to learn to control my temper. Even with potential vampire strength, I couldn’t go punching out everyone who pissed me off. Well, not all of them, anyhow. It would be hell on a manicure.
Chapter 9
I hastily reapplied the eyeliner and lipstick, and tried to fix my hair as best I could, given the dissipating reflection I had to work with. I tried not to think about that too much or it started to make my chest tighten with pain and dread. What was I going to do without a reflection? It just wasn’t right.
Zelda came into the washroom to check on me after ten minutes. I had to turn around to see it was her, since her reflection was completely nonexistent.
“How do you manage?” I nodded at the mirror.
She frowned until she figured out what I meant, then shrugged. “You get used to it.”
“I don’t think I ever will. I’m about ready to go throw myself on the next cross I see.”
She studied me. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Yeah. Sort of.”
“Crosses don’t do anything, anyhow. That’s just a lame myth.”
Well, that was good. I was wondering if I’d have to avoid any churches. Not that I went to church much anymore, but it would be nice to have the option.
I tried to give her a small smile. “And next you’ll probably tell me that you don’t sleep in a coffin, right?”
She nodded. “Now, that’s true. Although, I can only afford a pine box myself.” She laughed at my look of surprise. “Now I’m the one who’s kidding.”
“Funny.”
She glanced at the mirror. “If it bothers you that much, you can always save your money and buy a shard.”
“Buy a what?”
“They’re called ‘shards.’ It’s a reflective surface that’s just like a mirror, only it works for us, too. But they’re very expensive.”
“How expensive?”
“If you have to ask, you probably can’t afford it. I know I can’t.”
I sighed. “Well, that’s the story of my life.”
“Well, I guess if you hate being a vamp too much, you can always go questing for the cure.”
A cure. More jokes. “Yeah, wouldn’t that be great.” I smiled. “Nah, if I can just make it for a few more weeks, I’m off to Mexico. That’s worth living for, right?”
“Absolutely.” Zelda smiled at me. “By the way, I liked the show earlier.”
“What show?”
She swung her arm through the air. “Knocking Goth girl’s lights out. I wanted to do that the last time they were in. She’s a real bitch. I don’t know what Timothy sees in her.”
“You know him?”
“We used to date. But that was a long time ago. I was going to ask how long ago, but decided I didn’t really want to know.
“You know,” Zelda said. “Now that George is here, why don’t you take off? You look kind of tired.”
“I am. This whole day’s been really exhausting. But I need to talk to Thierry before I go anywhere. He’s my designated answer-man when it comes to this vampire thing.”
“How long have you been
vamped, anyhow?”
I zipped up her makeup case and handed it back to her. “Two days.”
Her eyes widened. “Two days? And your reflection already looks like that?”
I glanced at the mirror and grimaced. “Yeah. So?”
She turned away. “Oh… nothing. Nothing at all.”
“No, I think it’s something. What are you trying to say?”
Zelda turned back to me and was chewing on her bottom lip. “It’s just that you don’t typically lose your reflection to that extent for a long time… unless…”
“Unless what?”
“Unless you’ve been on a steady diet of…” She paused and looked at me. A smile began to form on her lips. “Oh, that must be it.”
I put a hand on my hip and glared at her. “Am I going to have to punch you out, too? What are you talking about?”
“You and Thierry,” Zelda said, as if that explained everything.
“Me and Thierry what?”
“He’s been giving you his blood. That stuff’s like pure gold at his age, even diluted. No wonder it’s speeding up the process.” She noted my strained expression and my lack of denial. “It’s okay. It’s cute, actually. He needs somebody like you in his life.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Somebody full of life. Somebody who might be able to add a little light to his existence.”
I shook my head. “Look, there’s nothing between us like that.”
She rolled her eyes. “If there wasn’t, then he wouldn’t be offering you his blood, would he? There’s plenty to go around, you know, or didn’t you sign for the keg earlier? He likes you. Take it as a compliment. He doesn’t like very many people.”
I didn’t have an answer for that. There hadn’t been a need for him to give me his own blood if any old blood would do. “If he likes me, he sure has a funny way of showing it.”
“That’s the way he is about a lot of things.”
“How long have you known him?”
She crossed her arms. “A long time. He helped me out when I was a fledgling, too. My sire ran off on me, and I was in pretty bad shape. I owe him a lot”—she looked at me—“only he wasn’t so generous with me. You’re lucky.”
Bitten & Smitten Page 9
