Chapter 6 Peter
PETER
Peter enjoyed his Devil’s food cupcake across the street from Clover’s pub.
He was waiting in the shadow of the alley by the parking lot for Ian, who was late for his evening shift.
Peter worried that Ian might have discovered Faye’s plan to leave him, since she had left Stoker’s later this evening than usual.
Peter wished he had ensured she got home safely, but he’d had another soul collection in Foxford today, and he’d barely had time to get here and make sure Ian was following his usual routine.
He didn’t like Faye living alone in the woods.
At least she wouldn’t be there much longer.
With the warding securing her apartment, she could carry out her plans, leaving Ian and the woods for good.
If only the crone had survived our encounter, she could’ve come in handy. Peter pushed away the fantasies of Ian’s death. Instead, he wondered what would’ve happened if he hadn’t died, if he’d have ended up with Faye instead of Ian.
All thoughts of what might have been disappeared when he watched Faye’s truck park beside a row of motorcycles outside the vampire pub.
What the hell is she doing here? His eyes were going to bug out of his head.
Ian exited the truck, walked around to the driver’s side, and opened the door. Faye got out slowly. Peter had never been so grateful for his sharp hearing.
“I really don’t think I should go inside. I don’t want to disturb you at work, and I don’t want the patrons to be uncomfortable with a magless hanging around,” Faye told Ian, practically recoiling from the building. However, Ian didn’t let go of her waist, prompting her forward.
“Don’t worry! You won’t make anyone uncomfortable. I want to show off my beautiful wife, and you said we could spend time together. There’s no point in driving back now. I promise you’re perfectly safe with me,” Ian said, coaxing her towards the door.
Peter laughed. She was safer in a den of poisonous snakes than she was with him. Still, he knew that Faye giving in was the safest thing she could do right now. His hands fisted as he controlled the urge to rip Ian’s arms from his body, but all he could do was watch them disappear into the pub.
Before he did something he’d regret and got punished for obstructing human lives, he walked out of the alley and headed away from the bar.
Despite Peter’s screaming conscience, he was almost in the clear when a group of vamps bumped into him on their way to Clover’s.
Peter glared at them as they flashed their fangs in warning.
He reminded himself he wasn’t in Foxford – there were no laws to prevent fighting between creatures.
He couldn’t risk getting into a scuffle and getting suspended from his cases.
“Walk away,” a man with a mohawk snarled at him. From the group’s burning red eyes, they were thirsty and looking for trouble.
“After you.” Peter didn’t move. There was no way he would turn his back on vampires. Luckily, they continued into the pub without giving him a second look.
You can’t leave her defenceless in there.
Ian won’t protect her against his own kind.
The thought of Faye in the pub with the thirsty group glued his feet to the pavement.
Damn it! So much for not interfering. Since receiving Faye’s file, he hadn’t broken any rules.
He had observed her, like he would check in on any other assigned soul, but between the warding and this, the line was growing blurry.
With a sigh, he turned back and headed for the pub.
His arrival caught the attention of the patrons for a moment before they returned to their drinks.
The bluish or red tint under everyone’s eyes revealed they were far from human.
The entrance was adorned with vintage posters of vampire movies, crimson wallpaper, and a dark wooden bar with matching stools.
Peter suspected that the dark carpets and upholstery hid a multitude of sins.
Only one large window faced out to the street, which he was sure was UV-protected one-way glass.
If any tourists were to walk in off the street, they’d merely think the owners had got carried away with the gothic theme.
Faye was shifting uncomfortably on a barstool. Peter wished he could get her out. That would prove difficult, as Ian worked behind the bar beside a woman with a neck tattoo that read “BITE ME”. She could be thirty or three hundred. It was impossible to tell.
Not wanting to attract attention, Peter settled into a corner booth and kept his hood up. He glanced over his shoulder as he heard a loud crash. The obnoxiously loud group who had bumped into him was too focused on their pool game to pay Faye any attention.
“What can I get for you? We have A positive and B negative, but we’re out of O,” the waitress said, standing over him, obstructing his view of Faye. Behind the bar, he noted bottles of what looked like red wine, though the open-fridge design spoke to their actual contents.
“Just a cold beer,” he said curtly. He couldn’t sit without something in front of him.
“You want that laced?” she asked, matching his attitude.
“No.”
“Coming right up.” The waitress left as Peter heard Faye excuse herself and head down the hall for the ladies’ room.
He clenched his jaw as one of the women in the group leaned in and smelled Faye’s hair as she passed.
Peter silently applauded Faye for not reacting when she had to be scared.
Grams had told him about the potion she’d given Faye to repel vampires; clearly, it hadn’t lasted very long.
Or maybe the vampires were so thirsty that the potion wasn’t strong enough to stop them.
The vamp with a mohawk leaned on the bar. “Ian, I have to say, we thought you were exaggerating about your woman. She certainly smells as delicious as she looks.”
“I’m insulted that you would doubt me, Carlos.
I’m a very lucky man,” Ian said smugly, getting their next round of blood shots ready.
Thankfully, the waitress bringing Peter’s beer over blocked him from sight, or Peter would have thrown Carlos across the bar for talking about Faye like she was nothing more than a blood bag.
“You really shouldn’t keep her all to yourself,” Carlos muttered, downing his shot while the rest of the group took theirs.
“I’d love a little taste. How about a sample?” a woman with a septum piercing said, draping herself over Carlos.
“Not a chance, Emily. She’s mine – mine alone,” Ian said, taking their money for the drinks. Peter’s grip on his beer relaxed.
“Don’t be so greedy. We’re here for a few days and want to taste something locally sourced,” Emily pleaded. She didn’t look old enough to be in a bar. “We could slip something in her drink, and when she wakes, she’ll be none the wiser.”
Ian didn’t waver. “I said no.”
Emily pouted.
“What if we were willing to sweeten the deal? Think of it as us buying a special vintage – your most expensive bottle.” Carlos reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a stack of money wrapped in an elastic band.
Ian hesitated, staring at the money.
Peter didn’t wait around for Ian’s answer.
Steadily, he got up from his booth, passing the group as they negotiated a price.
Down the narrow hallway, Peter entered the dimly lit women’s bathroom and locked the door behind him.
Not that the fragile lock would be enough to stop the vamps from getting to their meal.
“Who are you?” Faye exclaimed in the middle of washing her hands. “I think you’re in the wrong place.”
Terrified she would alert the others, Peter rushed to her side, covering her mouth to prevent her from crying out. Faye struggled. He hated to frighten her, but he couldn’t risk her being heard.
“It’s me. Please be quiet, or we’re both screwed,” Peter whispered in her ear. Judging from how she relaxed in his arms, she recognised his voice. He removed his hand from her mouth and let her go.
“What are you doing here?” Faye’s eyes widened as he lowered his hood. “Do you know what Ian would do if he knew you were in here with me? You might not be able to die, but I can!” She kept her voice to a whisper but was angrier than he had ever seen her.
“I’m sorry I frightened you, but I don’t have time to explain. You need to get out of here,” Peter said urgently. “When you return to the bar, tell Ian you aren’t feeling well and that you’ve got to go home.”
“Why? What’s going on?” Faye snapped. “Are you following me?”
“You can be angry with me later. Please keep your voice down. We don’t want them to hear us. It’s about ten against two, so I don’t fancy our odds,” Peter said, backing her further from the door in case anyone going into the men’s bathroom overheard them.
“What did you do? Are vampires after you?” Faye asked, not giving up on her questions. He was seconds away from teleporting them out of here. However, if he did that, Ian would be furious with her unexplained disappearance, especially if her truck remained in the parking lot.
“Not me,” he countered.
Faye paled, and the shaking door handle silenced her response as someone tried to get in. Faye caught Peter off guard by shoving him inside a cubicle and locking them inside.
Pressed against her, he stared down at her, and she held her finger to his lips.
The lock is broken!
She typed on her phone, showing him the screen as they heard someone walk into the bathroom.
“Faye? Are you alright?” Peter recognised Emily’s voice. Soft and inviting, not the same thirsty vamp who had asked for a sample only minutes ago. “I’m Emily, Ian’s friend. He’s asked me to check on you.”
“I’m fine – just need a minute,” Faye called out. Peter was impressed by how calm she sounded.
“Are you sure?” Emily asked. “I can hear your heart racing.” They could see the shadow of her feet beneath the door. Much to Peter’s relief, there was only about an inch-high gap, so Emily couldn’t see two pairs of feet.