Page 4 of Blood & Bones

“Why not? I didn’t have any other plans,” Kitten said.

I finished my blood, then slid into my denim jacket. I didn’t need a coat—I never got cold, given I had the temperature of a popsicle, but I liked jackets. “I guess I’ll head out now. See you in a while.” I headed out to my car. I had a black Jaguar XJ. A number of humans were fetishists for the Fae, and a dealership had offered us cars if we’d give them a shout-out.

Since we weren’t above saving some of the money our mother left us in case we ever came over Earthside, we’d taken advantage of it. Camille drove a silver Lexus, Delilah had a Jeep Wrangler, and I had chosen a Jaguar. And we’d all managed to get our licenses without much of a problem. With the coming of the rains, I had to keep the top up, but I loved my little speedster. I hopped in, buckled my seatbelt, and set out for the Wayfarer.

As I parked—luckily, I found a space only a block away from the bar—and hopped out of my car, a group of guys were stumbling down the sidewalk. Frat boys, by the look of them, and they were drunk. One of them spotted me and turned my way, his arms around his buddies’ shoulders. I suspected it was more to keep him on his feet rather than any camaraderie.

“Hey, babe, you alone tonight?” His words slurred; he had too eager a look in his eyes.

I remained silent, staring at him and his buddies. At one time, they would have scared me, but now? I held my ground.

“Can’t talk? That’s okay, I like ‘em quiet,” he said, lurching forward, followed by two of his buddies. They looked just as plowed, but they weren’t saying anything. Neither were they reining him back.

“Back up,” I said, lowering my voice.

“C’mon, baby, how about a smile?” He sounded like a pathetic stereotype of the drunken frat boy, and that offended me almost more than his actions.

“You could at least be original,” I said, then shouldered my purse and moved to push past them. But he reached out, grabbing for my arm.

Without a single word, I roundhouse-kicked him, slamming him back on his ass. He hit the concrete, stuttering some drunken curse. I held my ground, then let the hunger come flooding forward. I knew my eyes were burning with a crimson light by now.

“You want me to smile? All right, you get your wish.” I smiled, opening my mouth wide enough for them to see my fangs lower. I gave them a moment to register what they were seeing.

“Crap, she’s a vampire! Get out of here!” One of the frat bros began to stumble back. “Danny, move!”

The man on the sidewalk stared at me and began to cry. A fetid smell rose from his pants. He had just soiled himself. I leaned closer to him.

“You don’t want to die?”

Whimpering, he shook his head, unable to speak.

“Then stop bothering women. You can do that, can’t you? You can act like a decent human being, right?”

Again, he nodded, tears pouring down his cheeks. “Don’t kill me, please! My mother…”

“Your mother? So would you be okay with a bunch of men harassing her if she was walking on the streets alone at night?” I licked my fangs.

“No…no, I wouldn’t,” he said, still blubbering. His buddies had run off without him. So much for friendship.

“Remember this night,” I said, using both my Fae and vampire glamour to enthrall him. “Remember how frightened you are. Remember what an asshole you are. Put the two together. Hear me?”

He nodded, starting to realize he wasn’t going to get sucked dry.

“Then get up, go home and shower. And find a new set of friends—preferably not a bunch of fucknuts.” I turned and headed toward the Wayfarer, thinking that I hadn’t had that much fun in a while. Ever since Dredge, I actually enjoyed tangling with assholes, as long as I could humble them. It gave me a vicarious thrill, considering my sire was still out there, hunting for other innocents. One day, I wanted to stake him. It would ostracize me in the vampire community, but I didn’t give a damn about that. I wanted Dredge forever dead, and I wanted him to hurt before I killed him.

As I pushed through the door, Jocko waved me over, a look of concern on his face. I shrugged off my jacket, hung it up, then headed behind the bar.

“What’s up?” I started to say, but he shook his head.

“Follow me,” he said.

Wondering what had happened, I followed him toward the stairs leading to the basement.

“Is Chrysandra okay?” I asked, thinking maybe he didn’t like my choice for a waitress.

But he just shrugged. “She’s great. I think she’ll make a good addition to the bar. This is something else.”

As we entered the basement, Tavah nodded toward the safe room. The Wayfarer had a magic-proof, escape-proof room that even the strongest brute couldn’t break out of. It was an OIA precaution in case we should ever get an escapee come over from Otherworld.