Мишель Роуэн - Bitten & Smitten

“The bartender at Midnight Eclipse. Looks like a teenager.” I stared out the window at the road ahead. “And as soon as we get back there, I think I’m going to ground her for life.”

Quinn was gunning it all the way back to Toronto, but it still felt as though we were moving at a snail’s pace.

“What’s the plan?” he asked as we saw the CN Tower ahead and the shimmering lake to our right.

I shook my head. I wasn’t going to panic. There wasn’t any time for a luxury like that. “I don’t know. Hope we’re in time to even have a plan.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I. I’m sorry about your father. Maybe the two of you just needed some time to work through all that stuff.”

He laughed, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “I think that’s the only thing I’m not sorry about. He killed my mother. He treated me like I was shit on the bottom of his boot for nearly thirty years. Is it wrong to be happy he’s finally dead?”

I didn’t know how to answer that, so I didn’t. Finally we got to the club. It was just after ten o’clock. Quinn didn’t bother trying to park neatly, so we left the car with one tire up on the sidewalk. I ran to the front door and pushed it open, Quinn at my side. It was empty. Nobody at the front desk. The sound of recorded Musak-like tunes filled the air. I went toward the black door that led to the club and pushed it open. An entirely different kind of music filled my ears now. The black door must have been soundproof, because in the tanning salon there was zero indication that anything else was going on only a few feet away. The usual band was onstage, the Bettie Page-like singer belting out a tune. At the moment she was singing “Goldfinger,” the James Bond theme song.

At first glance, the only thing out of ordinary about the club was that it was filled way past capacity. There had to be at least a hundred vampires in there. It struck me as odd for a moment, but then I realized that other clubs were closed, either burned to the ground or shut down to prevent being burned to the ground. And here I thought Veronique wanted to keep things trucking because she was the traitor and wanted to give the hunters easier access. Now I knew it was simply a business decision. It took a lot of greenbacks to pay for her designer wardrobe. And with that many thirsty vamps filling the club, she must have been raking it in tonight.

“Sarah!” George raced up to me. His hair was sweaty and plastered to his forehead. “Am I glad you’re here!”

My eyes widened and I grabbed his muscled arms. “What’s wrong? Where’s Thierry?”

“Who cares where he is! Romance can wait, sweet pea. Do you see this crowd? I’m going nuts. Grab a tray and start taking orders.” He glanced at Quinn. “And you, too, handsome.”

I grabbed his shirt. “I’m serious, George. Where’s Thierry?”

He raised his eyebrows. “He’s around. I saw him just a minute ago, okay?”

I let him go and glanced toward the bar. “Where’s Zelda?”

“She’s gone. It’s just me and the new guy, and he’s a total waste of space. Come on. Help me out. I’ll owe you a big one, and you can take that any way you want to.”

“I thought you said you didn’t sweat the small stuff?”

“I lied. I’m sweating. Look at me, it’s disgusting.” He looked over at the bar to see a young vampire reaching over to refill his mug of blood. “Hey! Hands off!” He ran off to stop him.

I looked at Quinn.

“I’m not exactly in the mood to wait tables tonight,” he said.

I grabbed his shirt. “We have to find Thierry.”

We threaded our way through the busy tables until I felt a hand reach out and grab my arm. I spun around, ready to punch or kick whoever it was.

“Sweetheart,” a dark-haired man slurred. He was with a busty blonde, and both of them were obviously drunk. “Can we get a round of O pos and gins here? Actually, make them Rusty Nails, would you, toots?”

I turned away, ready to ignore him, but he pinched my ass hard enough for me to spin back around. I had to clench my hand at my side to stop from slapping him.

“Look, dickweed, do I look like a waitress to you?”

“You were the other night.”

“Oh. Well, I’m not now. And hands to yourself, buddy.”

“I’m going to complain to the management.”

But I’d moved far enough past him not to care. I glanced at Quinn. Considering the horrible night it had been, especially for him, he actually had the audacity to look amused.

“What?”

“Dickweed?”

I shrugged. “And your point? He was one and I call ‘em like I see ’em.”

“I can imagine what you want to call me right now.” His amused expression faded.

“Don’t get all melancholy on me. I need you to keep it together.”

“You need me?”

“Yeah. Now don’t go getting any ideas, though.”

“A discussion for another time?” He looked at me hopefully.

“You’re impossible.”

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a yes, you’re impossible. Other than that, I’m not promising anything.”

“You know we’re perfect for each other, Sarah.”

“I can’t believe you want to discuss this right now after everything that’s happened. This is so not a good time.”

He smiled at me. “I like the fact that you’re not turning me down flat. I guess I just don’t understand what your objection is to the two of us getting together.”

“Did I mention that you’re due for a serious ass kicking?”

His smile widened at that. “That sounds like it might have interesting possibilities.”

I made a frustrated noise loud enough to be heard over the music. “You tried to kill me, dumb-ass. Twice.”

“And now all I want to do is kiss you. Just give me one reason why we shouldn’t be together.”

He was nuts. And this was such a bad time for this discussion. I turned away from him because my face was growing warm. My gaze moved over the dozens of vampires enjoying the night out, drinking with their friends, families, lovers—despite the lousy service tonight. My gaze finally reached Thierry’s booth.

He was leaning against it, staring directly at me.

“Thierry.” I let out a long sigh of relief and immediately began walking toward him.

“Oh, right,” I heard Quinn say dully. “That’s the reason why.”

I got closer to Thierry, pushing my way past the club-goers until I was finally standing right in front of him.

“Sarah.” His lips moved slowly into a half smile. “Good to see you.” His silver-eyed gaze turned toward Quinn, who had swallowed his hurt pride enough to stay by my side. “I see that you’ve brought a date tonight.”

My mouth opened to deny it, but I closed it. There were more important and urgent things to discuss than petty jealousies. Was he jealous? No, I couldn’t think about that right now. I couldn’t get distracted, but he was so distracting. And now I knew that he hadn’t killed Quinn’s mother. So did Quinn, but it didn’t keep the loathing from radiating off him in waves.

“You have to get out of here,” I told him.

“It is my club,” he replied. “Why should I go anywhere?”

“You have to. It’s not safe.”

He studied me for a moment, then motioned for the two of us to sit down. I slid into the booth despite my brain screaming at me to tell him everything as quickly as possible. I just didn’t know where to begin.

“It is not safe anywhere, Sarah. That doesn’t mean that we should hide ourselves away like cowards.”

I cocked my head to one side at his words. They sounded awfully familiar.

He smiled at me. “Yes, Veronique told me about your little ‘girls’ night out’ She fears that she may have scared you away, or made you think less of me, as you left without saying anything to her. I know she told you stories of my earlier days. I now realize why you were acting so odd earlier.”