Мишель Роуэн - Lady & the Vamp

Quinn decided not to mention he used to hang out with a few guys who hunted werewolves. And they were very good at it.Weres could be an even bigger challenge than vamps. They ran faster, for one thing.

Also, they had a whole mouth of sharp teeth rather than just two fangs.

"When the fight's over," Barkley said, "and if I'm still breathing, I'm supposed to get hitched to the Alpha bitch."

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Alpha bitch?"

"A real ball buster . Name's Rosalyn." Another shudder went through him. "Gorgeous, but a real piece of work."

"And you're going back to the pack because ?"

"There comes a time in every man's life when he has to face his destiny." Barkley let out a long breath.

"This is my time."

"Well, that's good to hear."

"Why's that?"

"Because we're here."

He could have sworn he heard a whimper.

It was a very small town named, perhaps not coincidentally,Wolfington . Surrounded by desert, with a few cactuses scattered here and there, it looked like a modern version of an Old West town. Quinn watched and waited for a tumbleweed to roll past the car and was a little disappointed when there was nothing.

Barkley cleared his throat. "Home sweet home. I guess you can drop me off up by that hardware store.

My father owned that."

"Was he Alpha, too?"

There was a long pause. "He tried. It didn't go too well."

Quinn cringed at that. "Why were you chosen to be next in line?"

"It was predicted. There are these old, hairy women whose job it is to predict things. I predicted it, too,

in a dream."

"The psychic thing." Quinn said blandly.

Barkley was convinced that he was a werewolf who possessed second sight. Quinn, while he'd seen many unusual things in his thirty years, did not fully believe in psychics. It wasn't tangible enough for him.

For something unusual, he had to see it with his own two eyes. And Barkley hadn't done anything yet to convince him otherwise.

"Yeah." Barkley turned to Quinn and frowned. "You know, I was never able to get a read on you.

Vampires are kind of like a psychic blank slate."

"Thanks."

"Trust me, it can come in handy."

"I'll remember that."

"You know, it's funny. I've been having this dream the past couple of days. I never even thought it might be precognitive."

"About me?"

"Not unless you're a gorgeous redhead in her early twenties who looks great in a black cocktail dress."

Quinn eyed him sideways. "No, that probably wouldn't be me."

"Didn't think so." He glanced out of the window. "Where are you off to now?"

Quinn shrugged and tried to appear at ease when he felt anything but. "I have an old friend around this area. I think I might look him up while I'm here."

It wasn'ttoo much of a lie. It was an old friend of his father's, currently deceased, and Quinn would follow the directions he'd written in the letter, because that's where the Eye allegedly could be found.

"Good luck to you." Barkley held out his hand, and Quinn shook it.

"You, too. You know, you don't have to fight. There are other options."

"Facing my destiny, man."

"I hope you find it."

Barkley got out of the car and grabbed his duffel bag from the back seat. Since he'd been stuck in werewolf form for so long, he didn't have many possessions. Some clothes he'd borrowed. A new toothbrush. A brand-new forged passport. But that was about it.

"Matthew Barkley? Is that really you?" a voice called from down the block.

Quinn nodded at Barkley and pulled away from the curb. He actually felt a lump in his throat, for some strange reason. They'd been traveling together for three days, and he had to admit that he actually enjoyed the guy's company. Somebody to talk to who was able to make him laugh, and who he was fairly assured wouldn't try to put a wooden stake through his chest at the earliest convenience.

No, Barkley belonged there. It was his home. His, as he'd said,destiny . Now Quinn had to go find his own.

He took a last glance in the rearview mirror to see a group of four men approaching Barkley. The Wolfington welcoming committee.

Barkley took a step forward and—Quinn frowned—he threw his duffel bag at the men. Then he turned and began running very fast after Quinn's car.

What the hell?

Quinn turned to look over his shoulder. Yes, Barkley was running after him and wildly flailing his arms with a distinctly panicked expression on his face. Two of the men who'd come out to greet him began to pursue the fleeing werewolf, and they didn't look friendly.

Some welcoming committee.

He applied pressure to the brakes and pressed the button to roll down the passenger window. Barkley thundered up beside the car after a moment, breathing hard.

"Problem?" Quinn asked.

Barkley looked behind him, yelped, and then yanked open the door so he could throw himself inside the car. "Drive!" he yelled. "Just drive!"

Quinn slammed his foot down on the accelerator and drove. After a minute, the large men running after them became no more than pissed-off specks in the distance.

Quinn turned to Barkley and raised his eyebrow. "Facing your destiny not all it's cracked up to be?"

"They were going to kill me," Barkley panted. "Right there. They weren't even going to let me fight

Brutus."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I… I think they thought I was dead already. Maybe I should have called first and let them know I was coming back."

"But that doesn't explain why they want you dead."

He shook his head. "Dude, all I saw were silver knives and I ran. Those guys were Brutus's men. I'm not going back there." He let out a long breath. "I guess you're stuck with me for a while longer."

Quinn kept his eyes on the road. "So now what?"

Barkley leaned back in the seat until his breathing slowed down to normal. "Now I guess I'll come with you to see your friend. You don't mind my company for a bit longer, do you?"

"Uh. I don't think that's a very good idea."

"Sure it is. Listen, let's stop for something to eat first. Running for my life works up an appetite. If I remember correctly, there's a roadside diner about ten minutes west of here that serves the best hamburger in the state. You hungry?"

"I don't eat."

"Oh, yeah." He frowned. "You know, I haven't seen you drink any blood lately, either. Do you do it in private? Like a secret Twinkie obsession? You can drink in front of me if you want to. It doesn't gross me out."

Quinn glanced at him sideways. "I haven't… drunk anything for a few days. The thought of drinking blood makes me sick."

"I did think you were starting to look a little gaunt. So, what are you? Like, a vampire anorexic, or something?"

"I will drink when I have to, but not before."

"Okay, okay. You do what you have to do. But can we stop for lunch so I can eat something?"

Quinn clenched his jaw and stared at the road ahead. Fine. They'd stop at the diner, and as soon as he was sure that Barkley was safe from his old friends, he'd take off. He'd leave some money so the werewolf could get a lift with somebody else.

He felt a twist of guilt in his gut but knew he couldn't back down now. It had to be done, and the sooner the better.

The Stardust Diner, as the sign read when they arrived, would be the last stop on the Quinn and Barkley phase of his quest for the Eye.

"The Stardust Diner? You're sure this is the right place?"

Janie showed her partner, Lenny, the piece of paper the Boss had given her for, like, the eightieth time that day as they pulled up alongside the restaurant.

"Stardust," Lenny said it again. "Like the Frank Sinatra song. I love that song."

Lenny was six-foot-five and built like a linebacker. His hair was cut so short his scalp could be seen through the dark stubble, and he had a crooked nose that had been broken multiple times in his life. He wore a black leather jacket and Doc Marten boots, and he could scare little children with one look.