Kohl rubbed the back of his neck, attempting to disperse the sudden heat accumulating there, though he knew Hawke meant her no harm. “She was on the news a few months back. Maybe a year ago? I don’t remember. She’s the one who spoke up about Parasupe and what they were doing. She even testified against them in court. It was all over the internet.”
Hawke’s head fell back and he spoke to the ceiling. “Thaaat’s right. I thought she looked familiar.” He looked back at Kohl. “It wasn’t the real story, of course, but what they wanted the general population to believe. And a bunch of online assholes tore her apart for her supposed betrayal to the company. That girl?”
Kohl made a sound of affirmation.
“Everybody’s so fucking brave when they’re hiding behind their phones and their”—Hawk’s mouth twisted with disgust—“oh-so-cool social media personas. Get them face to face,”— he flashed his fangs—“and they’re pissing their pants.”
Kohl walked behind the bar and straightened a few bottles that had fallen over during the shooting. “It was nothing but a fucking witch-hunt, what she went through. I watched the entire thing unfold, as we all did, waiting to see what Parasupe was going to do next. If the general population had the slightest fucking idea what that company really does, they wouldn’t be so quick to pick up those torches.” Thinking about what he’d just said, he laughed without humor. “Or maybe they’d invest in better weapons and join them.” Gauging Hawke’s expression, he wondered if he was saying too much, and got the impression that was a very affirmative yes. But he couldn’t seem to shut himself up. “Her face was all over the social media sites. Anyone would recognize her if they looked hard enough.” A piece of broken glass sliced his finger when he picked it up. It healed before the blood could drip on the floor. He threw the glass in the trash and wiped his hand on his black pants. He was talking too much, showing too much interest in her. He attempted to wrap up the conversation. “Guess she’s here in San Antonio now.”
“Guess so.”
The back of his skull vibrated under Hawke’s intense stare. He ignored it for as long as he could. His friend was forever trying to pick the thoughts out of his head, but he never had much luck, even for a vampire of his age. It drove him a little crazy that Kohl was the one person he couldn’t read, other than a few vague words or ideas that broke through here and there. But it was also probably why they got along so well.
When he realized Hawke wasn’t going to give up any time soon, Kohl turned around and just went ahead and answered the question his friend was trying so hard to glean from his mind. “I don’t know her, not personally, just from the news. But she’s been through a lot of shit lately. And I just thought getting shot in a nightclub shouldn’t be the next thing. That’s all.” He went back to picking up the broken glass.
“Did it occur to you that maybe she was the reason our club got shot up?” Hawke picked up the bottle of vodka and took a healthy swig before setting it down and wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his pink dress shirt. He always dressed up, and more likely than not in colors other men wouldn’t have the balls to wear.
Kohl sighed. Yeah. It had occurred to him. And it was only another reason for him to have done what he had.
Hawke caught his gaze with his own. “You can’t see her anymore, Kohl.”
He knew this. He did. Still, the words hit him hard. “I know.”
He thought Hawke was gonna keep on him about it, but he didn’t. With one last pensive look, the vampire went to go “talk” to the cleaning crew who had just arrived. They wouldn’t remember the job, but they would be paid well. Their families taken care of. It was how Hawke worked.
Andrew joined Kohl behind the bar with a broom and a mop to help him clean up. His short, dark hair, spiked every which way with dried gel, hadn’t moved an inch. “You doin’ okay?”
“Yeah. I’m good.” He took the dustpan from him and held it so Andrew could sweep the broken glass into it.
“These guys weren’t your ordinary good ole’ boy nut jobs,” Andrew said. “They picked this place, and knew how to get the weapons inside without us finding them.”
“Do we know who they were?”
“Not yet. The ones who were inside tearing up the place are all dead, and there wasn’t anything on the bodies to identify them. But we’re gonna look for the driver tomorrow night.”
“The driver? What driver?”
Andrew leaned the broom against the wall and got the mop as Kohl emptied the dustpan. They didn’t need to be doing this, that’s what the cleaning crew was for, but they did it anyway. Having a bunch of guys come in and shoot your clientele all to hell was enough to make anyone restless.
“There was a driver waiting outside. He took off before we could catch him.”
“Did Mark catch the plate numbers? He was working the door last night, right?”
“Yeah, he was. But no, he didn’t see anything. He came running inside as soon as they started shooting, and by the time he went back outside, the car was leaving. It didn’t have any plates. They must’ve taken them off before they came here.”
“Smart.”
“Yup.”
Kohl’s head was all over the place. If the driver was still out there, and they had come here to take out Devon, then that meant they would go after her again as soon as they regrouped. His insides roiled in protest, stirring the beast.
“Kohl, whatever’s bugging you, you need to chill.”
He looked up to find Andrew watching him warily. “I’m tight.”
“Your eyes are telling me something different.”
Rubbing the back of his neck to ease the burning tension there, Kohl closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. When he opened them again, Andrew gave him a nod and went back to work.
