“Sure thing, hon,” Kat told him, before catching my eye with a grin. “C’mon, you. Get up here and mix those Jack and Cokes. Time to pop your bartending cherry.”
SIX
LEN’S ASSESSMENT had been a bit too optimistic—it was actually three weeks before I graduated from ‘slightly under-qualified barback’ to ‘desperately under-qualified bartender.’ He’d been right about one thing, though. When it came to keeping cocktails straight, Google was my new best friend.
I’d learned fairly quickly that while the Vixen’s Den did have a drinks menu, that didn’t stop people from ordering drinks that weren’t on it. When a guy had come up during my third night behind the bar and asked for a peanut butter and jelly, I’d thought he was kidding.
He wasn’t kidding.
After surreptitiously looking it up, and then checking with Kat, I’d had to regretfully inform him that the bar didn’t stock peanut syrup. Because apparently peanut syrup was an actual thing that existed. Just not, y’know, here.
Leonides was a regular fixture in the club when I was working. Evidently, he was down on the floor most nights—schmoozing with the customers, checking in with his staff. He was pleasant but reserved on those occasions when he spoke with me. For my part, I tried not to think too closely about the details of the night we’d first met—not too difficult, really, since parts of it were still pretty hazy. I also tried not to pay attention to the never-ending procession of beautiful girls hanging off his arm as he mingled.
In no conceivable way should their presence at his side bother me. So why did they?
One evening in particular, the flavor du jour was a red-haired bombshell with green eyes and a smattering of freckles dusting her cheeks. Nonsensically, hot jealousy fluttered in my throat as they approached. To make the situation even weirder and more uncomfortable, when I dragged my attention from the woman to my boss, it was to find his gaze fixed a good twelve inches below the level of my face, his expression troubled.
For a bizarre instant, I thought he was ogling my cleavage. I only had time to wonder why on earth he was scowling at it like it had personally offended him, before I realized that I was absently rubbing Aunt Mabel’s pendant between my fingers... and that was what he was looking at. Not my boobs.
Which... didn’t make the moment less weird, exactly. I resolved to double-check the dress code, just in case I’d misunderstood the part about wearing jewelry.
On the financial front, my weeks as a barback just about brought in enough money for Jace and me to live on, with a bit of an extra pad left over from my last few shifts at Barton’s. That little bit extra wasn’t enough to keep Richard’s creditors happy, though, and I’d been dodging them off and on for days now.
To my knowledge, the loan creeps hadn’t figured out yet that I worked here—though there had been a couple of odd occurrences as I was leaving the building after closing. Twice, I’d felt like I was being watched as I made my way to where my old beat-up Ford Taurus was parked. On the second such occasion, I’d actually caught a glimpse of a long-haired blonde guy staring at the club’s back entrance from across the street, before he melted back into the shadows.
After that, I made a point of walking with someone else when I left for the night.
For the most part, though, things were in a holding pattern. My nightly tips were picking up as I made fewer mistakes with orders, and as the regulars got to know me better. Dodging the loan creeps became, if not comfortable, at least a familiar part of my daily routine. My coworkers were... shall we say... eccentric, to varying degrees—but they mostly seemed to be nice people. I was also growing to enjoy the low-key ‘us against the world’ mentality that seemed to permeate the place.
People came to the Den because it offered an escape in the form of good music and good booze. Employees worked at the Den because it was a better option than any of the alternatives they presently had available. And the boss... liked the music, I guess? The music, along with the company of professional escorts, apparently. Beyond that, he was still as much of a mystery to me now as he had been when he’d randomly offered me a job, the day after I almost had sex with him for money.
But... he paid on time and was respectful of the staff, so the rest of it was probably none of my business.
I was chatting with Kat on my break when I realized that I hadn’t seen the man in question tonight.
“Where’s Leonides?” I asked. “He’s usually front and center on a Friday.”
The musicians tonight were the same ones who’d been playing when I’d showed up at the club on that first night in my... other capacity. I’d learned that the singer’s name was Monique, and she was talented as hell. Smooth vocals flowed over me in a soothing rhythm as Kat scanned the floor.
“Not sure,” she said absently. “He was down here earlier. Maybe he headed upstairs.” She shrugged. “S’pose he’s gotta climb back in the coffin before dawn, and all that, right?”
I snorted. For some bizarre reason, ‘our boss is a vampire’ jokes were a staple at the Vixen’s Den. I wasn’t clear on how the whole thing had gotten started, since nothing about Leonides particularly screamed creature of the night—unless maybe it was the night-owl club owner thing. But, for whatever reason, no shift at the club was complete without at least one quip about the job being a pain in the neck, or draining you dry, or something similar.
Before I could come up with anything witty enough to bother replying, Kat stiffened beside me. I turned to her, frowning, but I was still drawing breath to ask what was wrong when she grabbed my wrist and backed toward the door leading to the kitchen. I looked in the same direction she’d been staring at, but couldn’t see anything unusual. Then the swinging doors closed behind us, cutting off my view.
The hand around my wrist was trembling, and her grip was nearly painful. I covered it with mine, moving to face her and ducking to try and catch her eye.
“Kat? Hey, what is it—what just happened?” I asked, feeling genuinely freaked out.
Kat’s dark complexion had taken on a faint grayish cast, and her expression was haunted. “My ex,” she said in a breathless voice. “I saw my ex out there. He doesn’t—he’s not supposed to know that I work here. There’s a restraining order.”
My heart sank as I put together bits and pieces of previous conversations I’d had with her to form an ugly but all too common picture.
“Oh, sweetheart,” I said, aching for her even as my adrenaline spiked with worry. “Do you think he saw you?”
One of the wait staff pushed through the doors with a tray, narrowly missing us. I tugged Kat to an out of the way corner where we wouldn’t be blocking traffic.
Kat shook her head sharply, as though trying to recall herself to the present. “I... don’t think so?” she said uncertainly.
I squeezed her hand, unwrapping it from my wrist so I could grip her fingers in mine. “You said there’s a restraining order? Stay right here. I’ll go get Maurice, and you can point this guy out to him. He’ll take care of it from there.”
But horror flitted across her expression. Her fingers tightened on mine, holding me in place. “No! No... don’t tell Maurice. Please, Vonnie. He’ll get the police involved, and then Aiden will know for sure that I work here. I’ll have to quit, and—”
“Whoa... whoa,” I said, cutting across the flow of words. “Slow down. Okay, if you’re pretty confident he didn’t see you, maybe this is a great big coincidence, right? He might have just stopped by for a drink.”
“I need to leave,” she breathed, her hand still quaking in mine. Her skin had turned icy cold to the touch, and I wondered with a roll of nausea what this guy had done to her to turn a strong, competent woman into a terrified, shaking mess.
I chafed her knuckles with my thumb—a ridiculous, maternal tic, trying to comfort her and get the blood flowing.
“All right,” I soothed. “All right—here’s what we’ll do. Stay back here, out of sight. I’ll find Sally and let her know you
’re not feeling well, and that you need to leave. I’ll tell her Len and I are going to make sure you get to your car all right. I’d still rather it was Maurice or one of the other security guys, but Len’s a pretty intimidating guy if you don’t know him. Does all of that sound okay?”
Kat was near tears, but she nodded. “Yeah. Vonnie, I’m sorry—”
“Stop,” I said immediately. “You don’t get to be sorry for someone else acting like an animal, you hear me? He’s the one who should be sorry.”
Her face twisted, and a couple of tears spilled over her cheeks. She forced her shoulders back and wiped them away, dropping her death grip on my hand as she did. “Right. You’re right. I know that.”
I nodded and gave her shoulder a squeeze before pushing back through the doors leading to the floor of the club. The irony of my little speech wasn’t entirely lost on me—coming from the woman who’d nearly ended up selling sex for money to help pay off her ex’s debt.
It was different, though. It was. Because for one thing, Richard might be an irresponsible dreamer with no clue about how the real world worked, but he’d never been abusive. And for another, I would have happily left him to lie in the bed he’d made, if his creditors hadn’t tracked me down and started harassing me as well.
We had a kid to think of, and these people were bad news. The kind of bad news that meant if I tried to get the police involved, I might as well pack our bags and get ready to drag Jace into witness protection with me.
I just wanted all of this to go away as quietly as possible, and as soon as possible.
Now, though, I needed to focus. This wasn’t about me. This was about Kat.
“Hey, Sally?” I called, getting the floor manager’s attention.
She looked up from the clipboard she was poring over. “Yeah, Vonnie—what’s up?”
“Kat needs to go home early. She’s... really not feeling well,” I told her.
I wasn’t one hundred percent comfortable with Kat’s decision not to let anyone but me know what was really going on—but she was an adult woman, and the breach of trust involved in going against her wishes felt like it would be even worse.
“I’m on break already,” I continued. “I was going to ask Len if he could help me make sure she gets to her car okay.”
Sally frowned. “Is she all right to drive?”
“She says she is,” I said. “I just don’t want her stumbling around in the dark on her own.”
Sally hesitated for only a moment before nodding her assent. “Go on, then. Ask Len to take over her station for the rest of shift. If the line cooks can’t oversee things in the kitchen on their own, we’ll shut down food service for tonight.”
“I’ll pass it on,” I said, aware that Len would be less than pleased by that order.
Hurrying back toward the kitchen, I glanced around the nightclub floor, wondering which one of these people was the man who’d terrorized my coworker. It was sobering... the idea that monsters could hide in plain sight like this.
Kat was still huddling in the same corner where I’d left her, both arms wrapped around her body like she was fighting a chill. I gave her a reassuring smile, aware that I was sliding into full-on ‘mom’ mode—taking control, trying to kiss the scrapes and bruises all better.
“Right. We’re good to go,” I told her in my best ‘reassuring’ voice. “Let’s grab Len and swing by the lockers to get your stuff.”
She took a deep breath and nodded, letting me usher her deeper into the kitchen, where Len was overseeing his little domain with a careful eye.
“Hey, Blue,” I said, when he looked up at our approach. “Need a favor from you.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s up, Red?” I saw the moment he really looked at Kat. He did a double take, and his brows drew together in concern. “Kat? You all right there?”
Kat swallowed, visibly pulling herself together. “Not really, no. I saw my ex out on the floor. There’s a restraining order against him, and... I don’t actually think he saw me, but I sure as hell don’t want him knowing I work here. Sally’s letting me leave early.”
“And I don’t want her walking to her car alone,” I added. “Unfortunately, I’m not really bodyguard material.”
Len snorted. “And you think I am, Red?”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Len, you’re a six-foot guy with tattoos and piercings. Kat doesn’t want to get security involved, because they’ll kick him out and then this creep will know for sure that she works here. So. Will you help us smuggle her outside on the down-low?”
He shook his head at me ruefully before meeting Kat’s eyes. “Of course I will. Let me make sure all of the open orders are covered, and I’ll be right there.”
I didn’t mention Sally’s admonition about possibly closing down the kitchen to him quite yet, not wanting Kat to feel any worse about all this than she already did. True to his word, Len met us by the doors a couple of minutes later.
“We can walk in front of her and block her from view of the floor to get to the lockers,” I suggested.
Len nodded. “Sounds good. Point him out to us if you see him, Kat. You ready?”
She visibly steeled herself. “Ready.”
Len and I ran interference as we skirted the edges of the club to the hallway leading to the break room and employee entrance. Kat was as tense as a rabbit at a greyhound track as we slipped into the door marked ‘Employees Only.’
“I didn’t see him,” she said, moving to her locker and opening the combination lock with unsteady fingers.
I shared a glance with Len. “Well... it’s a busy night,” I offered. “Or he might’ve gone to the restroom. Let’s just get you to your car so you can get out of here.”
She nodded, shrugging into her coat and grabbing her bag before slamming the locker door shut. “Yeah. That’d be good. I’m parked on Skinker, just the other side of Pershing.”
The three of us headed outside into the chilly night, Len in the lead. He looked around the alley, illuminated by a flickering circle of sodium light from the single buzzing fixture above the door.
“Come on,” he said, and I ushered Kat to walk between the two of us as we headed for the street.
She scrubbed a shaky hand over her face. “God, I feel like such an idiot,” she said, her eyes darting around nervously.
“Don’t,” Len said. “Believe me, when it comes to being an idiot in relationships, I could tell you stories—”
We turned onto the main road, and Kat gasped, staggering to a halt. A man blocked the sidewalk. He wore a gray hoodie pulled over his head to throw his features in shadow, and my stomach sank as I realized how badly I’d just messed this up by not involving Maurice.
“Thought it was you in there, Kathy,” the man said, his words twisted through with satisfaction and menace. “Think you can drag me in front of a judge like I’m some kind of criminal, and then just disappear?”
Len stepped in front of her, and I did the same, my heart pounding in a staccato rhythm.
“Two words, man,” Len said. “Restraining order. She doesn’t want to talk to you, so walk away. Leave, and there won’t be any trouble.”
“Who the fuck are you?” the man spat. His attention fell on Kat, cowering behind us. “Are you sleeping with this freak or something, you slut?”
I saw Len’s jaw tighten in the faint illumination from the nearest streetlight. “I’m the guy telling you to walk away before someone here calls the cops. Seriously—it’s not worth it, bro.”
It was three against one, and there was no reason to think this guy would be stupid enough to push the issue. Yet... something about the way he held himself—the way the fingers of his right hand were twitching at his side—prickled my instincts. Moving slowly, I reached for the phone in my back pocket, getting ready to dial 911.
Kat grabbed my other arm, as though she needed the support. “Aiden... look, it’s not like that, baby. He’s just a coworker.”
Not to mention gay as hell, I
added silently, my fingers sliding the phone free. Because apparently, all the good ones are either gay, or your boss.
“I’m calling 911,” I told Aiden, letting him see the phone. “Leave. Now.”
Aiden’s hand clenched, and he shoved it inside the pocket of the hoodie. “You ain’t doing shit, bitch, except getting cut up like the slut behind you.”
His hand emerged, clasped around something dark. With a flick of his finger, the wicked-looking switchblade snapped open, glinting in the light from the street lamp. My heart leapt into my throat.
“Oh... fuck,” Len said, shoving me behind him as well.
SEVEN
“AIDEN, DON’T!” Kat’s voice was high and wavering. “I’ll... I’ll go with you, okay? Just don’t hurt them!”
“Not happening, Kat,” I said, even though fear was thrumming through me like an electrical charge. I grabbed her arm with my free hand to hold her back, at the same time Len threw an arm out to block her from moving past him.
“Get her back inside, Red,” he said tightly. “Get help.”
My stomach rolled at the idea of leaving Len alone with a crazy guy with a knife, but he was right—someone needed to get Kat to safety and call in the cavalry. I’d just started dragging Kat backward toward the alley while simultaneously trying to unlock the phone one-handed, when Aiden charged.
He slammed into Len, sending both of them to the ground. Kat screamed. My voice was locked in my throat. I looked around frantically, but it was late at night, and while there might have been some foot traffic in front of the club, the road running past the building’s back entrance was deserted.
Kat continued to scream and sob as I tugged her toward the employee entrance, finally freeing enough breath to yell, “Help! Somebody help!”
Len and Aiden wrestled on the ground, arms and legs tangling. Someone grunted like they’d been punched, and my heart skipped a beat as Aiden rolled free, scrambling to his feet while Len stayed down, curling onto his side.
Vampire Bound: Book One Page 5
