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“I was and am,” he said grimly; then his energy swept through us, zipping us across to the Hallowed Ground in no time at all.
He dropped me in front of the place, then disappeared again before I could question him. I cursed him softly and headed inside the club. Though there was no entertainer onstage, the club had lost none of its patrons. But I guess that wasn’t surprising given it was barely one thirty and most of them were vampires. I walked across to the bar and showed the man idly polishing glasses my badge. “I need to talk to someone about the fill-in entertainer you hired today.”
The bartender—a balding, pot-bellied vampire who smelled of an odd mix of garlic and alcohol—shrugged. “I’m afraid I can’t help you, love. Not my line of work, that, and I don’t talk to the entertainers much.”
“Not even briefly?”
“No.”
A non-chatty bartender was not what I needed right now. “What about the owner?”
“He’s not here.”
“Then who hired the replacement?”
“That would be Harry, the manager.” Amusement lit his brown eyes. “But you didn’t ask for the manager, now, did you?”
“I think it could have been taken as a given, seeing I asked to talk to whoever was in charge,” I said, barely holding back the annoyance in my voice.
“Ah, but you see, if there’s one thing I’ve learned over my many years of working in non-human establishments, it’s that you should never take anything as a given or anyone at face value.”
“Which isn’t bad advice in general.” I hesitated, remembering Hunter’s warning, then gave a mental shrug. If she wanted answers, then I had to question the people who were here, whether she liked it or not. “Can I speak to Harry, then?”
“Sure. He’s in the office down past the end of the bar.”
“Thanks.”
He nodded, and his gaze followed me, burning a hole in the middle of my spine as I headed down. I had a feeling that it would be a bad mistake to think he was as meek and as mild as he appeared.
The office door was open, and the vampire inside—a man with ebony skin and dark hair—looked up before I could knock. His eyes were an almost incandescent green that glowed brightly against his skin.
“You wanted to see me?”
Obviously, the bartender had psychically warned his boss of my presence. “I did.”
He waved a hand toward the somewhat scruffy leather chair on the other side of his desk. “About what?”
I sat down. “The fill-in entertainer you hired today.”
He snorted. “I can tell you one thing: She won’t be coming back. She did a runner well before her set was finished.” He studied me for a second, something close to amusement in his eyes. “Seems someone scared her off.”
And I had a feeling he knew it was me. “Unfortunate, given I need to speak to her.”
I showed him my badge, and his eyebrows rose. “So we are hiring werewolves these days.”
“Well, no, just me. You could say I’m special.”
“Could I, now?” He leaned back in his chair and studied me for several seconds before adding, “And did they give you the nano microcells you’re wearing?”
The amusement I’d glimpsed in his eyes was definitely evident in his voice, and I had to wonder what the hell was going on. “No, they are a means of self-preservation.”
“Do they keep Hunter out?”
I hadn’t felt him attempting to read my mind, but then, with the best telepaths, you didn’t. “Mostly.” I shrugged. “Probably as much as it has kept you out.”
He smiled. “I can read only the occasional surface thought.”
“As can she, and usually the worst possible ones.”
