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A shadow passed over the bartender’s face, and his smile dimmed. “Horrific is more like it,” he said quietly as he worked. “Those poor people, rotting in jail cells, all because of one power-drunk vampire who wanted to put them in their place.”
“I know.” I swallowed back a rising wave of anger. “Were you there? I’ve only heard rumors about what happened—I didn’t get to see the aethercannon in action.”
Something glimmered in the bartender’s eyes as he shook the shaker, but it disappeared too quickly for me to decipher it. “Iwas,” he said, pitching his voice low. “The sound of the blast, the heat of the explosion… I haven’t seen anything like it since the war. And that smug look on the commandant’s face…” He trailed off, a muscle working in his jaw. “I don’t blame those people for attacking. I only wish I’d been brave enough to join them.”
“What they did was stupid,” a human to my left said a little too loudly. He clutched a tankard in his hands, his face ruddy from drink. “There was nothing to be gained by attacking that bloodsucker, and now their wives and children are never going to see them again.”
“Is it wise to refer to vampires as ‘bloodsuckers’ when you’re in a room full of them?” I asked, feeling a little uneasy.
The bartender chuckled as he slid my drink across the table. “You’ll find that within these walls, vampires and humans don’t bother with masks and pleasantries. Anything goes, so long as you don’t try to steal or cheat or harm anyone.”
I took a casual sip of my drink, completely forgetting that it had been over fifty years since I’d last touched a drop of alcohol. The sharp, crisp taste of the vodka was a jolt to my senses, burning down my throat and filling me with a familiar warmth.
The bartender frowned at the look on my face. “Is the drink all right?”
“It’s more than all right.” I set it down, the warmth already melting into the beginnings of a buzz. Which was a little embarrassing, considering that I’d only had one sip. “It’s wonderful. I just… haven’t had alcohol for a long time, and the sensation took me by surprise.”
The bartender smiled softly. “Well, I’m glad I could offer you a bit of joy in these dark times, Miss…?” his eyebrows rose along with the unspoken question.
“Catherine.” I smiled back. “And yours?”
“Trystan.” He leaned a little closer, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial murmur. “I must confess, Catherine, you don’t really strike me as the gambling type. What is it you’ve come here for?”
I made a show of glancing around before I leaned in close and lowered my voice. “The truth is… a friend of mine has gone missing, and I’ve been losing my mind trying to find out what happened to her. I’m told that this is a place where one might find answers to such questions.”
“I see.” His expression turned serious. “How long has she been missing for?”
“A few months.” I bit my lip, affecting the appearance of a damsel in distress. It wasn’t too difficult to slip into the role—I was feeling very relaxed, almost floaty. “She didn’t come home from work one evening, and I haven’t seen her since. Some think she ran off to join the rebels, but…”
“But you don’t think so.”
“I don’t know.” I grasped his hand atop the counter. “It’s driving me crazy, not knowing. Surely you understand.”
“More than you know,” he agreed, his gaze darkening. He said something else then, but the words came out funny, as if he were talking into a pillow. I shook my head and leaned closer, trying to make out what he was saying, but the room tilted, and I foundmyself sliding sideways. Strong hands caught me under the arms before my head could hit the floor.
“Got you,” Trystan grunted, hauling me up. “Gods, you’re heavy for such a wee thing.”
I pawed at the heavy arm that banded around my waist, but my limbs were leaden, as if I were moving through water. The tavern faded around me, and before I could process what had happened, I was out.
14
When I came to, I found myself tied to a chair in a dimly lit room filled with crates, while two people stood before me.
“Well, that didn’t last long,” Trystan muttered, his arms folded across his chest. The flirtatious smile on his handsome face was long gone, replaced by a puzzled frown. “The drugs should have kept her out for at least thirty minutes.”
“She must have fed her master recently,” the woman said. She perched atop a small crate, her emerald green hair curling around her diamond-shaped face. Her matching green eyes narrowed as she looked me up and down. “Got a fresh boost from that good ol’ blood exchange.”
“I know how being a thrall works,” the bartender said irritably. “I was one myself for many years.”
I shook my head, trying to clear it, then immediately regretted the action when a bolt of pain lanced through my skull. “What in the hells are you two talking about?” I barked.
“You, darling.” The bartender smiled at me again, but this smile was sharp and filled with the promise of pain. “We’re trying to figure out what it is youreallycame here for.”
“I told you already!” I protested, my heart slamming in my chest. I strained at the bindings fastening my arms and legs to the chair, but they seemed to wind tighter around me the more I struggled. Glancing down, my mouth parted in a surprised ‘o’ as I realized my restraints were not made of rope, but of thick, rubbery vines.
“Wait a minute.” I jerked my head back up to look at the woman. “You’re a witch?”
“I sure am,” she purred, and the vines snaked up higher on my calves. “And if you don’t tell me what you’re doing in our tavern, I’ll be more than happy to show youexactlywhat my powers can do.”
