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He helped me inside and to my usual table near the fire. Another fire flashed in my mind along with a strange mix of desire and repulsion. I dropped into the chair, head aching worse despite the soothing music and delicious smells of the pub.

Murphy, the small, white-bearded man who ran the place, hurried over to us with a big beer for Sam and a double shot of whiskey that he placed in front of me.

“Oh, I don’t think I can stomach it,” I protested weakly.

“Nonsense. I know what you need, and it’s a stiff shot.” He studied me with a darkened aura. “I’ll go get you some stew too.” He winked, but I didn’t miss the worried glance he shot at Sam, who planted himself firmly in the seat beside me and scooted close.

“Lydia’s going to have a fit if you stay for dinner,” I said without much gusto.

“Too bad,” Sam said and gulped some beer. “I’ll be as charming as possible. Don’t worry.”

I nudged him with my elbow and took a swig of the liquid before me. It burned going down but left a trail of heat all the way to my stomach that somehow helped. Lydia appeared at the table as I set the cup on a paper coaster. She ignored Sam’s presence and sat across from me, leaned over, grabbed my glass, and took a swig.

“Damn,” she said, setting it back down. “Yeah, Murphy knows what you need, Doc.”

I smiled at her and took another sip as Murphy appeared with two bowls of stew, which he set before Sam and I, and a tall glass of blood with a stick of celery for Lydia.

“Can I get one of those also?” she asked, pointing to my whiskey.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Murphy agreed solemnly before rushing off to another table.

“You can go anytime now,” Lydia said, glaring at Sam as she sucked the blood from her celery stick.

“Not until I’ve finished this,” Sam said, shoveling a bite of stew in his mouth. I had to agree it was delicious.

“I’m stressed at the moment,” I said after swallowing. “So I’d appreciate it if two of my closest friends would play nice and not add to it.”

“Message received,” Lydia said, saluting, then gulped some blood and smacked her lips at Sam. But this goad felt more playful than before, and I smiled to myself.

“I eat fresh blood too,” Sam commented, already half done with his meal. “And flesh and sometimes even bone when I’m enthusiastic.” He licked his lips and made a satisfied sound.

Lydia stuck her tongue out. “Gross. Our human is trying to eat.”

“I’m your human now?” I said, setting down my fork. “Like a pet?”

“No! It’s a term of endearment,” Lydia said, hand fluttering to her chest in mock horror as Murphy brought her the whiskey and handed me a second glass.

“Definitely a compliment,” Sam agreed, backing her up.

I downed my first glass and pulled the next one toward me, head starting to spin but feeling better than before.

“I’ll let it slide then, this time,” I joked, and we all laughed.

We finished dinner together, chatting about the similarities and differences between shifters and vampires. I hadn’t been that tipsy in a long time and blurted out, “What do you get when you mix a…a wolf with a…bat?”

“What?” Lydia demanded.

“I don’t know. A wolbat? No that’s not a thing.” I furrowed my brow, trying to grasp the thought just out of reach. When I found it, I bounced with excitement. “I know! A wombat?” I asked then hiccupped.

Lydia shook her head and Sam rose from the table, throwing down a bunch of cash. “Come on. That’s our cue to get you home.”

“I’ve got her from here,” Lydia said, taking my arm and helping me navigate the table.

Sam frowned, but when I nodded, he acquiesced and opened the door for us.

“You’re strong,” I commented as Lydia, several inches shorter than me, kept me balanced down the steps.

“That happens when you’re a vampire,” she said wryly. “Bye, Wolfman.”