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Anyway. After that nightmare, walking into Vein was like entering an oasis. I might have a more generous attitude toward humans in general, but I preferred the company of vampire hustlers, prostitute nymphs, and mage drug dealers to being surrounded by dirt-nappers.

Speaking of vampires, Alexis sat in a booth across the bar with a few of Tanith’s lackeys. She saw me come in and held up her beer in salute, but she made no move to approach me. Thank the gods. The last thing I needed was to endure that harpy’s attention. Especially when she’d probably just use it as an excuse to gloat about the fact there’d been no more murders since she offed Tiny. She seemed the type who’d really enjoy delivering an aggressive I-told-you-so.

Earl stood at his usual station behind the bar. His ever-present dirty dishrag worked the same spot on the bar over and over, like he was trying to clean his way through the wood.

“Hey, Earl,” I said, taking a seat on one of the stools.

He nodded, Earl’s version of a warm greeting. A raised eyebrow indicated he was listening for my order.

“I’ll take a Bloody Magdalene. Make it a double.”

The other eyebrow came up to join its mate. Like all good bartenders, Earl was an excellent reader of body language. But it wouldn’t have taken an expert in behavior to figure out I was in a bad mood. A conscientious bartender made it his business to remember the preferences and habits of his customers. The small gesture told me he was recalling that since I’d been back in New York I usually stuck with imported beer. That meant the change to blood and vodka was cause for speculation.

“What?” I snapped. I didn’t mean to be bitchy, but my craving for blood made manners impossible. Ever since I’d denied my craving during sex with Adam, bagged blood wasn’t cutting it. I’d had three bags before I left the apartment, but I was still hungry.

While he went off to get the drink, I distracted myself from both my hunger and my guilt with a scan of the bar. I hadn’t seen Vein this busy since the early days of Demon Fight Club. A good sign. Also not a surprising one. If the dark races enjoyed watching two demons kick the shit out of each other, chances were good they’d go crazy over chicks on wheels having catfights.

A few moments later, Earl slid the highball in front of me with a nod. “Thanks, Earl.” I tried to infuse my tone with the apology for being short with him earlier. He didn’t acknowledge me. Instead, he went back to scrubbing the bar with his gray rag.

The mix of blood, vodka, horseradish, and Tabasco hit my tongue like liquid fire. Earl’s way of letting me know he wouldn’t put up with being disrespected. I looked over to catch the bellicose vampire grinning at me like a crocodile. My eyes watered and my taste buds screamed, but I lifted my glass to acknowledge he’d won this round. Besides, once you got past the taste of burning, the drink was actually pretty delicious.

I spotted Adam making his way toward me before I’d taken my second bracing gulp. I called to Earl. “Put it on my tab, okay?”

Another eyebrow raise.

I glared back. “Slade knows I’m good for it.”

He gave me an it’s-your-funeral shrug. Then he drifted away to fill another order.

I turned to smile at Adam. With a mouthful of liquor and my hot mage filling my visual space, my mood improved considerably.

“Hey there, hottie,” he said, sidling up. “Looking for a good time?”

I swallowed and flashed a little fang. “Watch yourself, mancy.” I ran a finger down his chest. “I like to play rough.”

“Thank gods.” He leaned in and gave me a fast, hard kiss. But he pulled away quickly, a grimace tightening his full lips. Realizing he’d tasted the blood on my mouth, I quickly wiped it away.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

He took a long pull from his beer. “I don’t know how you can drink that stuff.”

I took a pointed sip and smacked my lips. “That’s funny. I don’t know how you can not drink it.”

“Just be sure you brush your teeth tonight. Morning breath is a fresh sea breeze compared to the hellitosis of blood breath.”

I decided it was time to change the subject before the conversation turned ugly. “Did you see Giguhl?”

He took a swig of his beer and nodded. “I believe his exact words were ‘I’m as nervous as a nun at a  p**n  convention.’ ”

I rolled my eyes and took another sip of my drink. I always enjoyed the quality of Slade’s blood. The stuff I got from the bank did the trick nutritionally but was the bloody equivalent to eating gruel. Slade’s blood, however, was top shelf and fresh. I preferred not to ask where he got it because ignorance allowed me to have a clean conscience.

“Anyway,” he continued, “we better head down. He said if you didn’t stop by to wish him luck he’d use your favorite boots as a litter box.”

Adam reached back and grabbed my hand to pull me through the crowd. I accepted it not because I needed his help but because I loved the feeling of being connected. I’d spent too many years steamrolling through crowds on my own. Besides, with him leading the way, my eyes were free to admire his ass.

He bypassed the aluminum risers that ringed the raised track and led me toward the locker room. Just outside the steel door, Giguhl paced and chewed at his claws. He wore green sweat shorts and a ringer T-shirt that read DEMONS DIG VIOLENT CHICKS. A clipboard and a whistle rounded out the look.

“Well if it isn’t Sporty Spice,” I called.

Giguhl’s head snapped up with a scowl. But when he saw it was us, his black lips spread into a smile. “Thank Asmodeus! I thought you weren’t going to make it.”

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss your coaching debut for anything.”

“Thanks, Red.”

“So how’s it going?”

Giguhl shook his head, making his horns cut semicircles in the air. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“You’ll be great.” I stepped in and put a hand on his huge green bicep.

“Oh, I know that.” He waved a claw. “It’s Pussy Willow. She’s mad she can’t play.”

“What? I thought she was on the team?”

“It’s the whole penis thing.” He shrugged. “Somehow the league found out she was smuggling extra equipment in her skirt. They’re refusing to bend about the whole ‘only biological females are allowed to be on teams’ thing. So I had to tell her she can’t play.”

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