Fanged & Fabulous ib-2 Page 4

  deep breaths.

  Pull it together, Sarah, I thought.He was just trying to protect you. It didn’t mean anything .

  I grabbed an ice cube and ran it along my forehead.

  There, that was much better.

  Well, not really, but I could pretend, couldn’t I?

  Both George and the other waitress hurried over, both looking extremely pissed off for being kept waiting, and placed their latest drink orders. I got them ready before I hit the ladies room, did what I had to do, washed my hands, and returned to the bar feeling incredibly tense.

  Maybe I should have stayed home.

  Maybe I should have stayed in university and gotten my degree.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have given up on acting after a few lousy auditions and that embarrassing feminine hygiene commercial I’ll never live down.

  Maybe I never should have gone on that goddamned blind date that got me into this situation in the first place.

  Hey, hindsight is always twenty-twenty.

  It’s also always there to laugh at your mistakes while you duck under the bar to suck back a shot of tequila with a B-positive chaser.

  I’d made a lot of stupid decisions. I never claimed to be a rocket scientist. I knew that. But there was no going back now and wishing things could be different, was there?

  I stood up from behind the bar.

  “So, what’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” a voice said from behind me.

  I turned slowly around.

  Michael Quinn leaned against the bar. He gave me a big smile.

  A matching smile landed directly on my face. “What makes you think I’m nice?”

  “You’re not?” he replied.

  “To the right people I am.”

  He cocked his slightly scruffy, dark blond head to one side. “Why does this conversation sound strangely familiar?”

  I moved out from behind the bar to give Quinn a big hug. I was surprised at how glad I was to see him.

  “You are a sight for sore eyes.”

  “I am?”

  “Hell yeah. When did you get in?”

  “A couple hours ago.”

  “Where have you been?”

  “Down south. Had some stuff to take care of.” He grinned. “But I’m back now.”

  “I see that.” I smiled back at him. “You know, you just missed Veronique. She left for her flight back toFrance a few hours ago.”

  He didn’t look overly disappointed by the news. Quinn and Veronique had had a short-term relationship last month. Short-term in the fact that it had been about six days, after which, Quinn had left town.

  “I hope she sends a postcard,” he said. “But I didn’t come back for her, you know.”

  I froze. “Quinn . . . ”

  His grin widened. “Relax, Sarah. I’m back in Toronto for other reasons. I’m not going to go all stalker on you. Well, not again, anyhow. I know you and what’s-his-name are still together. You made your choice and I respect your decision.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Really?”

  “Not even remotely. If I had any say in the matter you would be making out with me right now.” He glanced at an unoccupied booth in the corner. “Over there. But I’m not going to press the issue.”

  “No pressing of the issue,” I told him. “Any issue pressing would be wrong. But I’m glad you’re back.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  I’d met Quinn just after I’d been turned into a vampire. Since he was a hunter at the time, he’d tried to kill me. Twice. Then he was turned into a vampire. It was a rather traumatic experience for everyone involved. I helped him out, and he’d . . . become a bit fixated on me. Go figure. And, believe me, it would have been a mutual fixation—Quinn was hot and sweet and wonderful—but I only had eyes for

  Thierry.

  Yeah,Thierry .

  The one who didn’t acknowledge me as his girlfriend or show any public displays of affection. The man I barely knew anything about because he was so damn secretive about everything.That Thierry.

  I gave Quinn another hug. It felt good to be in his arms. Somebody who actually wanted to touch me. In public, even.

  Very public.

  It felt as if somebody was staring at us and I pulled away from Quinn. Yes, somebodywas staring. The whole club was. Including Thierry, who’d just emerged from his office again. He approached slowly,

  eyeing Quinn.

  “You’re back.” His voice was flat and he slid an arm around my waist to pull me a little distance away from the other man. I looked up at him with surprise.

  “I am,” Quinn replied simply.

  They stared at each other in silence. I could feel the gazes of everyone in the club still on us, but then I heard the buzz of conversation start up again as the CD version of Diana Krall sang about “The Look of

  Love.”

  I cleared my throat.

  “So,” I began. “I guess I’d better get back to the bar.”

  Thierry and Quinn continued to size each other up.

  “I was under the impression that you had departed the city for good,” Thierry said.

  Quinn nodded. “I considered it.”

  “You did?”

  “Briefly.” He took a deep breath in and glanced at me. “But I kind of like it here. Just can’t get enough of these Canadian winters.”

  “What are your plans?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Now that you’ve returned. You are no longer a hunter,” Thierry said the word with such distaste it was nearly palpable. “You have no current employment, do you?”

  “Are you offering me a job, Thierry?” Quinn gave him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

  Thierry matched the expression. “I am always looking for janitorial staff.”

  “I’ll think I’ll pass. Don’t worry about me, buddy. I know how to take care of myself.”

  “I’m sure that you do. Well, it is a great pleasure to see you again. And you found the new club so easily. I am surprised.”

  Quinn nodded. “Sarah told me where you were going to be set up.”

  There was an interesting new painting on the wall I was currently and conveniently studying, but it didn’t stop me from feeling a burning sensation on the side of my face that signified Thierry was staring intently at me. I raised my eyebrows. “Hmm? What was that? I wasn’t listening.”

  “It is good of you to let Quinn know where to find us.”

  I nodded. “Sure. I do what I can. He . . . uh . . . called about a week ago. Didn’t I mention that? And I .

  . . let him know where Haven is.”

  Thierry nodded. “You are a good friend to him.”

  “I try to be a good friend to everyone.” I glanced over at the bar. “Anyhoo, George is flagging me down over there. Got to go.”

  Thierry’s fingers dug into my side. Not enough to hurt, but enough to keep me in place. I was still floored that he was touching me in public. Should I feel special, or annoyed? Not quite sure but I was leaning toward “annoyed.”

  I didn’t remember him and Quinn being quite so unfriendly before, though they were definitely not best buddies. In fact, while Quinn was briefly seeing Veronique they’d considered joining Thierry and myself down inMexico for a couple of days.

  That never happened.

  It was probably for the best.

  Thierry regarded Quinn again. “It was nice of you to stop by tonight.”

  He crossed his arms and glanced around the club. “Well, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me. I’m moving to the area permanently. Do what I can to help the other vampires out. Saving the ones who’ve gotten themselves into scrapes with the hunters. It’s going to be my thing now. Redeem myself a bit for being on the wrong side for such a long time.”

  “Is that so?”

  Quinn shrugged. “In fact, I’ve been following a lead on a vampire serial killer that led me back here.

  He’s taking out hunters and humans alike. E
ven ripping the throats out of other vampires. Some young ones have been found still intact. Doesn’t seem to have any preference for species. This is the kind of killer that has given vamps the stigma that they’re all monsters. He has to be stopped. I wanted to ask you about it, Thierry, since you’re the go-to man with answers around here. Know anything about this?”

  Wow. Talk about an exaggeration. There must have been a memo or something that went out to everyone today about my new rep. Now I was supposedly killing humans and other vampires, too?

  Wonderful.

  I opened my mouth to clear the matter up, but Thierry spoke first.

  “I’ve heard of this, though I haven’t seen any proof. What does it have to do with you?”

  Quinn shrugged. “I just want to help. I want to keep innocents safe, be they human or vampire. When I find out who this vamp is, I’ll put a stop to it.”

  “A noble endeavor.”

  “I try.”

  “Though it does nothing to erase the crimes of your past. All of the innocents that you, yourself,

  slaughtered with your hunter friends for fun and games.”

  Quinn’s eyes narrowed. “It was never fun and games to me.”

  Thierry waved his hand dismissively. “No matter, it is ancient history.”

  “That’s right.”

  “You know, that killer vampire might be just a rumor,” I said. “Nothing to worry about.”

  Quinn smiled at me. “Maybe. But I’m going to check it out anyhow. Listen, I’m going to take off. I found a motel room nearby that they’re willing to rent to me on a weekly basis until I find something a little more permanent. I want to grab some shut-eye. It’s been a long day.”

  “Good seeing you again,” I told him, trying to ignore the tightening of Thierry’s hand at my waist.

  He nodded, shot a last extremely unfriendly look at Thierry, and headed back to the door past Angel the bouncer.

  Thierry finally released me. And said nothing.

  I looked at him. “I take it you don’t want him to know I’m the Slayer of Slayers.”

  His lips thinned. “You could have mentioned you spoke with him on the telephone.”

  “So . . . ” I cleared my throat, feeling my face flush. “We’re still on for our date tomorrow night?”

  He raised an eyebrow at me. “I am looking forward to it.”

  “Super.”

  Three long and tiring hours later, I was home at my apartment, doors double-locked, trying my damnedest to get to sleep. Even considering that I was exhausted, it seemed to be an impossibility to clear my mind.

  George gave me a ride home from the club as opposed to my taking another expensive cab. He said he’d stay on my couch, but I told him I was okay. I regretted it as soon as he left.

  I wasn’t even sure if Thierry knew I’d left the club, he was so busy talking on the phone with his office door closed up tight.

  My mind raced. From my new reputation, to Nicolai’s offer . . . to . . . well, I didn’t really want to think about Quinn. Although maybe I should. The reaction the ex-hunter had elicited from Thierry had been very interesting. Did Quinn make him jealous? Or did he just not like the guy?

  I heard the padding sound of footsteps outside my bedroom. The door, which was already open a crack, creaked open even farther. The footsteps grew nearer. I couldn’t see anybody in the inky darkness, but I wasn’t scared it was a hunter. I knew what it was.

  I felt a wet tongue lick up my bare arm, which was hanging off the side of my bed.

  “Gross.” I turned to look at the floor. “How many times have I told you not to do that? Bad dog.”

  Barkley wagged his tail innocently.

  “Don’t give me that. I know you can understand me.”

  Barkley scratched the side of the bed and whined.

  I sighed. “It’s the middle of the night. You have to go outnow ?”

  I was currently dog-sitting Barkley, since his regular keeper was spending some much-needed time relaxing in a special hospital near Niagara Falls . Some might call it an insane asylum, but I preferred to look at it as a “special hospital.” He’d been charged with the murder of Roger Quinn, who just happened to be Quinn’s zealous, vampire-hunting father. When the police arrived, apparently Dr. Kalisan (former fake-o cure-for-vampirism doctor, but actually a pretty nice guy) went on and on about vampires, which made the court decide a little time in the hospital would be a good thing.

  Anyhow, Dr. Kalisan needed somebody to look after his werewolf while he was away. This is a phrase he used in front of the other doctors, which did nothing to make him look non-insane.

  The fact that Barkley actuallywas a werewolf really didn’t make any difference in the situation. I’d never seen him in human form. Apparently he was stuck this way: as a big, shaggy, scary-looking, but friendly,

  black dog.

  Who had to go out to do his business many times a day.

  “Don’t you think you can hold it?” I asked him. “All I need is a few hours’ sleep. I’ve had one hell of a day. Why don’t you know how to use the toilet?”

  Barkley whined and scratched at my bed again.

  I stared at the dark ceiling for a moment. And sighed. Well, it wasn’t like I was getting any sleep anyhow.

  “All right, I’ll take you out.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed, and then hunted around for my fuzzy slippers and ratty blue terrycloth bathrobe. “But you better make it a quick one.”

  I grabbed my keys off the kitchen counter. My cell phone was right next to them so I grabbed that too and slipped it into the deep pocket of my robe. More of a habit than anything.

  He was scratching at the door by the time I got there.

  I tied my robe and glanced at the nearest clock: 5:35 A.M.

  Then I unlocked the door, slipped out into the hallway, and pushed the down button on the elevator.

  Barkley was still whining, now scratching on the elevator doors.

  “Okay, almost there,” I told him. “Relax, would you?”

  Outside, it was freezing. Nobody should be out in January before 6 A.M. Even creatures of the night like me. Even though the cold didn’t really bother me much anymore, it just felt wrong. Especially while wearing pink fuzzy slippers and after recently learning I was a potential walking target.

  I found the spot I usually took Barkley, a ten-foot-by-ten-foot patch of snow with a tree he seemed to enjoy. I absently glanced up at my balcony on the tenth floor.

  And frowned.

  “What the hell?” I said aloud.

  A dark figure was scaling the side of the building. It stopped briefly at my floor, bracing itself on the balcony railing, and threw something. I heard the sound of glass shattering.

  “Hey!” I shouted. “What the hell do you think you’re doing up there?”

  The figure swung over to another balcony and then another, and then it was out of my line of sight.

  Barkley hadn’t done his business yet. He looked up at me and whined.

  And then my apartment blew up.

  Chapter 4

  My apartment.

  Blew. Up.

  In a great big ball of fire.

  I couldn’t believe my eyes.

  Barkley started to howl. Doors slammed. I heard voices around me in the cold early morning and after a while a blanket was wrapped around my shoulders. I smelled the smoke, sharp and pungent, and it made my eyes water. Sirens, loud and migraine-inspiring, assaulted my ears. My mouth felt dry. People started asking questions, touching my shoulder, staring at me with concern.

  “You’re so lucky you got out,” one voice said. I don’t know who it was. I don’t even know if I answered.

  The apartment complex was evacuated and people milled around me, looking confused and afraid.

  I just stared up at what used to be my apartment, now a smoking black spot on the side of the building,

  ten floors up, and I burst into tears.

  “Nobody was hurt, thank God!” a
nother voice said.

  Then in lower tones. “She must have had a gas leak. Poor girl.”

  Poor girl. They were talking about me.

  The pale girl standing outside in the cold in her bathrobe, crying like a baby, with a red blanket dangling from her shoulders. In shock, not moving, not thinking. Just staring at everything she had in the world that had just gone up in smoke.

  Barkley nudged my hand. I looked down at him.

  “Woof,” he offered in a concerned tone.

  “The hunters,” I said to myself, or to Barkley, or just out loud. My voice sounded odd. Kind of creaky.

  Broken. “The hunters did this, didn’t they?”

  Vampire hunters had just blown up my apartment.

  And they’d been two minutes too late to take me with it.

  “Shit,” I whispered. “I really am in serious trouble, aren’t I, Barkley?”

  Behind me, I heard a car door slam. I didn’t know how long I’d been standing there, but the sun was now beginning to come up, casting a pinky orange glow along the ruined side of the apartment building.

  Pretty, I thought absently as a shiver went through me.

  “Sarah.” A hand touched my upper arm to slowly ease me around. Thierry’s brow was creased, his face and shoulders tight. His frown deepened when he saw my face.

  I turned to glance at the building again. Despite the warm blanket, I was shaking.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Okay,” I felt the word on my tongue, but said nothing else.

  His gaze slid down the front of me, then back up to my face. “Answer me, Sarah.” His voice sounded harsh with concern. “Are you injured?”

  I looked down at Barkley and sniffed. The damn dog had saved my life. I suddenly felt guilty for deciding not to buy him the steak-flavored dog biscuits because they weren’t on sale this week.

  He deserved special, overpriced biscuits. It was the least I could do.

  Thierry shook me then, hard enough for me to take notice.

  “Are you injured?” he asked again, sharper.

  I shook my head. “No. Not injured.”

  He pulled me to his chest, and I wrapped my arms around him, his warmth taking my chill away for the moment. He didn’t say anything else.

  “Barkley had to do his business,” I murmured against him. “I’m just lucky, I guess.” I laughed suddenly,