by Мишель Роуэн
Well, I hoped he did, anyhow.
Frat-boy pressed his lips together. “Gideon Chase is cominghere .”
I nodded. “That’s right. So this can go one of three ways, boys. You can try to kill us and succeed, and when Gideon gets here and finds out what happened he’ll probably kill you for taking his fun away.
Number two, you can try to kill us, but being that we’re incredibly dangerous vampires, we’ll kill you instead. Horribly and painfully.” I bared my fangs for full effect. I hoped I didn’t have any lipstick on them. “Or number three, you can turn around and leave us the hell alone and live to see another day. I strongly suggest you go for number three. Then again, number two’s fine also. I am a little hungry and you boys do smell delicious.”
I glanced at George and he nodded in agreement. “They do. They really do.”
Frat-boy appeared to think about it for a moment, a range of emotions going through his expression: doubt, fear, and finally anger. He didn’t like me telling him what to do. He gripped his stake tighter and took another step toward me. I forced myself not to move back.
“I guess I’m a bit of a gambler, then,” he said. “Because I was sort of looking for another kill under my belt. Right, guys?”
He was met with silence.
The other guys had taken off around the time I mentioned the “kill you horribly and painfully” part.
He glanced over his shoulder, and then back at me.
I took a step forward.
He nodded and tucked his stake into his belt loop. “Say hi to Gideon for me.”
Then he turned around and left the smoking area. Quickly.
“I seriously think I just peed myself,” Amy said. “That guy who bought me a drink was going to totally let us die.”
I gave her a look and tried to tell my churning stomach to relax. “Didn’t I try to tell you that?”
“Well, I couldn’t visualize it. Now I can. That was terrible.”
“Yes,” George agreed. “Terrible. Who chose this stupid club, anyhow?”
“You did.”
“And it’s a great club, if it wasn’t for all the hunters. They should put a warning on the sign out front.
And what’s the story with that Gideon guy you were talking about?”
I swallowed hard, but just shrugged. They didn’t know. They didn’t need to know. It would just make them worry more than they already did. “I was just making it up as I went along. Luckily it worked. All I know is I seriously want to get the hell out of here right now.”
He looked around. “Where did the bodyguards go?”
“No idea.”
“I think I need some more Moonshine,” he said.
I realized my buzz was almost gone, replaced by three layers of stress. “Yeah, let’s have it back at the house. I hope you bought a gallon of that stuff.”
So, without any further protestation from Amy, we left the Liar’s Club, on guard, on edge, and still a little tipsy. I was fuming that Janie and Lenny had basically abandoned me to my own devices. At least until I saw Lenny pounding his head against the wall of a nearby alley.
“Lenny?” I said. “Where the hell did you two go? I needed you in there.”
“Sorry. I was coming back. I just needed to get some fresh air.”
I frowned at him. “What are you doing?”
“Pounding my stupid head.”
“That’s what I thought you were doing. And why are you doing that?”
“Because I’m a big, fat dummy, that’s why.”
I glanced at Amy and George, who stayed back a bit so I could approach the masochistic bodyguard.
“Can you be a little more specific?”
He stopped pounding and looked at me. “Janie hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you.”
“Oh yeah? Are you sure about that?”
“Well, actually, no. But I can’t imagine that she’d hate you. You seem very . . . uh . . . nice.”
He swallowed hard, and I could see his large Adam’s apple move up and down. “Okay, she might not hate me, but she . . . she doesn’t love me.”
“Is this what you guys were talking about earlier? Your crush on Janie?”
He let out a shuddery sigh. “It’s not a crush. It’s a deep, passionate love that fills my soul and keeps me from thinking about anything or anyone else.”
“Okay. If you say so.”
“I write her poems all the time. But she doesn’t seem to care.”
I nodded slowly. “I got to read one of them yesterday. It was . . . lovely.”
He took a deep breath of the cold night air and braced a hand against the wall he’d just bashed his head against. “Thank you. They’re from the heart. My heart tells me what I should write.”
“Well, maybe she just needs more time.”
He sniffed loudly and shook his head. “No. It’s over. She’ll never love me. I may as well throw myself off a bridge.”
“Trust me, not the way to go. Listen, sometimes people just don’t connect. Sometimes one feels something when the other doesn’t, and that’s just the way it is.” I thought about Thierry and a lump formed in my throat. “You can’t force something unless both people want it to happen. You need to realize that, accept it, and move on, because I’m sure the perfect girl for you is just waiting.”
He blinked at me. “Look, I’m not into vampires.”
I stared at him for a second and then sighed. “Why does everybody think I’m coming on to them this week?”
He shrugged his big shoulders. “I would understand if you’re attracted to me. I mean, I am your protector. Chicks think that’s kind of hot.”
“Protector. Right. Except for five minutes ago when I almost died because you needed some fresh air.
But I’m over it.” I pressed my lips together. “Yeah, so very attracted. But shucks, you’re not into vamps.
I guess I’ll have to accept that.”
“Tell Janie if you see her, that I . . . I had to go.”
“Where are you going now?” I asked his now-turned back, quickly moving away from me down the street. My voice sounded a bit pitchy. “Hey, aren’t you on the clock? We need a ride home!”
He didn’t turn around. I could have sworn I saw a Kleenex tucked up his sleeve.
I walked out of the alley to meet George and Amy, but heard a voice from the shadows.
“We messed up,” Janie said. “Sorry.”
I turned to face her.
“What?”
“I said we messed up. I’ll understand if you want to fire us.”
I crossed my arms. “Let’s not get carried away. I don’t want to fire you. It’s just that it wasn’t only me tonight. My friends were in danger. This is serious.”
“I know.” She looked away, then after a moment turned back to me. “By the way, you don’t need to give Lenny relationship advice, you know.”
“He was upset. I figured that since I’m still breathing, I’d give him a few words of dubious wisdom.”
She shrugged. “He’ll get over it.”
“I just want to go to sleep,” I said. “Are you going to give us a ride home?”
She nodded. “Let’s go.”
I studied her for a moment. “Can I trust you, Janie?”
She tensed. “Of course you can, Sarah. Completely.”
I smiled at her, then walked toward Amy and George, our lives in the hands of somebody who my gut was telling me was a big fat liar.
Amy insisted that she be dropped off at her house, which was fine, and then George and I went home. I didn’t invite Janie inside. We got severely drunk on Moonshine. It didn’t help me forget my problems.
But it did make the room spin around long enough that I finally fell onto my mattress and into blissful unconsciousness.
I woke up with a mouth full of cotton. Literally. It seemed that I had chewed into my pillow during the night and was now surrounded by feathers. Oral fixation. Now with more dangerous teeth. Not a
good combination.
I glanced at the clock. It was almost noon. Ugh.
Moonshine not only got vampires drunk without the necessity of being a chaser to blood, but it seemed that it also gave vampires hangovers. Big hangovers. My head felt about the size of a hot-air balloon. On fire.
I needed water. I crawled out of bed, noticing that I was wearing George’s old, oversized Duran Duran
“Simon Forever!” T-shirt as nightwear, and opened the door to my room.
I heard knocking. I stopped in place and listened. Yes, definitely knocking.
“Oh, for the love of all that is holy!” I heard George cry out from his bedroom. “Would somebody make it stop! The noise! Make it stop!”
Good to know I wasn’t alone on the Moonshine pain experience.
I grabbed the handle and slowly opened the door, looking blearily out into the bright sunshine.
At Thierry.
He frowned. “Sarah? Are you all right?”
I rubbed my eyes, suddenly realizing how lousy I must look. I felt my hair, which had turned into one large brown tangle.
“Thierry,” I managed. My mouth had the oh-so-pleasant taste of a chemical toilet. “Hi.”
“I . . . tried phoning, but no one was answering. I was concerned.”
I ran my fingers through my hair until they got caught on the demon tangle. “Oh, right. Slept in. George,
Amy, and I went out for a few drinks.”
He nodded. “I wanted to stop by. I had to see you to make sure you were all right. And I really want to talk to you.” His gaze moved to my neck and he frowned.
I touched the bite marks. “I want to talk to you, too. About what happened yesterday with Qu . . . well,
you know. I’m glad you’re here . . . even though it would have been nice if I’d heard the phone ring. I could have found something better to wear. I think George has a Depeche Mode shirt I could borrow that is much more stylish.” I smiled.
“You look just fine to me.” His gaze moved up to lock with mine. He reached toward me and ran a warm hand down my bare arm. I took a step closer to him.
My smile widened. “So do you.” I noticed his gaze leave my probably shiny and feather-encrusted face to glance over my shoulder. His eyes narrowed.
“Just the three of you went out last night, you said?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I needed to let go of some pent-up energy. And dancing’s great for that.”
“Dancing,” he repeated. “Is that all?”
“Of course.”And almost getting killed , I thought. But really, that’s a given.
His expression darkened even further and he didn’t meet my eyes again. “Yes, it looks like you had an excellent time, Sarah, relieving your excess energy. I apologize for any intrusion. Should you find the time to speak to me in your very busy schedule, I’ll be at the club all afternoon.”
He turned around and walked away without even looking at me again.
I felt seriously confused. What just happened? What was his problem? Was my morning breath that bad? I breathed against the back of my hand and grimaced.
Yeah. It really was.
But it was the Quinn thing. Must be. He was pissed off. I couldn’t say I blamed him, but why wouldn’t he even let me explain? Just storm off after he’d come all the way over here. It just didn’t make any damn sense.
I closed the door and turned around.
A naked man stood behind me, casually drinking from a coffee mug.
“Hi there,” he said with a smile.
He was about six feet tall, with shaggy black hair, piercing blue eyes, and a lean languid line to his body.
His aforementionednaked body.
When I didn’t say anything due to my jaw being on the floor, he approached me, ignoring my wide eyes and stunned gaze, and . . . enthusiastically licked up the side of my cheek.
I smacked him in the mouth.
He held a hand up to his face. “Hey! What was that for?”
“What was that for?” I sputtered. “Get away from me! Who the hell are you? I’m going to call the police. George! George!”
I heard a bang, and a couple of crashes, before George emerged from his bedroom with a salmon-colored towel wrapped around his waist, gingerly holding his head. “You don’t have to scream.
What is it?” He eyed Mr. Naked. “Um . . . first of all,hello there . And secondly, who the hell are you?”
“It’sme ,” the man replied.
George glanced at me. “Sarah, you naughty little minx. Did you—”
“No!” I looked at the guy again, shielding my view of his nether regions with a strategically placed hand.
“Explain. Right now. Or you’re in big trouble, mister!”
“First of all, don’t freak out,” Mr. Naked said. “It’s me.Barkley .”
“Barkley?” My eyes widened. “The dog?”
“Werewolf,” he corrected, and absently scratched behind his ear.
I gaped at him. “You havegot to be kidding.”
“No, not kidding. Thought I was stuck that way forever . . . but boom, here I am. What do you know?”
“Yeah,” I glanced at George half naked in his towel, then at Barkley, completely naked in his . . . nothing. A vampire and a werewolf.
I shook my head. It was obvious. I was having one of my Anita Blake dreams again.
George pinched me. “Ow!” I frowned, and rubbed my arm. Okay. Not a dream. “This is obviously why
Thierry just took off all pissed off. He thinks I’ve been having hot monkey love in here.”
Barkley took another sip of the coffee. “You know, I’ve always enjoyed the way you scratch my tummy. My tail’s wagging just thinking about it. So I’m game if you are.”
I grimaced. “For the love of God, would you put some clothes on? I am traumatized enough already this week.”
He looked down at himself. “I don’t have any. Besides, nudity is natural. I didn’t wear clothes in my wolf form.”
“That was very different. There was fur involved.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Why are you human now when you’ve been stuck as a wolf for so long, anyhow?”
George had gone to fetch another towel, and he handed it silently to Barkley.
“Well . . . actually, I have no damn idea.” He shrugged. “You guys left last night. I ate some of my food.
Drank some water. I was still hungry so I may have eaten one of George’s leather moccasins.”
“My moccasins!” George moaned. “Not the moccasins.”
“Sorry.” He shrugged again. “Then I got kind of tired so I curled up in my bed over there and went to sleep. When I woke up this morning, I was like this.”
His bed.
I looked over at it and frowned. Couldn’t be.
I walked over to the pile of blankets George and I had set up for Barkley in the corner. My hand suddenly felt clammy as I felt around underneath. I closed my fingers around the chain and pulled it out where the gold caught the sunlight streaming in through the side window.
I glanced at Barkley.
He shrugged. “Found that in your room last night. What can I say? I’m drawn to shiny things. It’s not like I ate it. Remember last week when I ate that pair of tweezers? I still can’t sit down right.”
I eyed the necklace without saying anything. What was it? Obviously not just for decorative purposes if it had anything to do with Barkley’s transformation. And I had a funny feeling that it did. I left it under the blankets. As good a place as any to keep it hidden.
I shook my head. “This is ridiculous.”
He finally put the towel in place. “Hey, you don’t have any of those steak-flavored biscuits lying around,
do you? I think they would be awesome dipped in this coffee.”
I bought Barkley those biscuits for being instrumental in getting me to go outside before my apartment blew up. I looked at him with a frown.
“That night. My apartment. How did you know? Do you rememb
er?”
“Of course I remember. I was stuck as a werewolf, not a werewolf with amnesia.” He appeared to think about it for a moment. “Yeah, I had a sense that something bad was going to happen. I’m a little bit psychic. That’s one of the reasons I left my pack two years ago. I sensed that somebody was going to kill me since I was next in line to be alpha. Since I didn’t want that to happen, I took off and after a while traveling in wolf form, I got stuck that way. You ever see the TV showThe Littlest Hobo ? The one with the German shepherd who travels around helping families and then leaves when he’s done to help somebody else?”
“I used to love that show,” George breathed. “I always wanted him to stay with the family. They would have been good to him! He wouldn’t have been cold or alone anymore. Why, is that like you? You travel from town to town helping people, but never find a home of your own?”
“No, I was just going to say that that wasn’t a German shepherd at all. It was a werewolf stuck in that form just like I was. Real jerk, too.” He shook his head. “Actors.”
The doorbell rang.
George clutched his head. “Ahhh!”
My brain was working overtime trying to figure everything out, and I absently walked over and opened it up. It was a guy in a brown uniform. A courier van was pulled up at the curb.
“Got a delivery here for a Sarah Darling?”
“SarahDearly ?”
“Yeah, that’s it. Sign here.” He pointed at the bottom of his clipboard and I signed my name, eyeing him nervously. Then he wheeled a large flat box inside the house and placed it up against the wall.
“Have a nice day,” he said, without much enthusiasm behind the words, and left.
I looked at the box. “I didn’t order anything.”
“You must have,” George said. “They were here yesterday trying to drop whatever that is off, but nobody was here, remember?”
I shook my head. “It’s a bomb. I just know it.”
“But you sound so calm.”
“I know. It’s a little eerie.” I took a deep breath. “It’s the hangover.”
“It’s a little flat to be a bomb,” Barkley said. “And I don’t smell any . . . bomblike materials being used.”
“You can smell that?”
“My sense of smell is very acute.”
“So’s mine. Sort of.” I sniffed the box. It smelled like cardboard. So much for my superpowers.
