Chapter 3 #3
I dialed Jason’s number next, and he answered in a gruff voice. “Rusty Nail,” he grunted, as if he’d just taken up mind-reading, before hanging up.
I almost wondered why I’d bothered. Didn’t sound like he was going to be a great conversationalist. But at least he’d given me the name of a bar.
Hopefully, vampires were welcome there and it wasn’t a hangout for dogs.
I shuddered at the thought. At this rate, Jason was spending so much time with the wolves, he’d wind up with fleas.
Or whatever worse parasite they carried.
With another shudder, I headed out the door, strangely happy that I’d be seeing a familiar face. Hopefully, this Rusty Nail place would be easy to find. I’d already done a bit of reconnaissance, so I was pretty sure I knew the direction to go in.
The streets were as quiet as they’d been earlier, but there was nothing peaceful about the quiet at all.
It was a poised silence. Sinister, like something was about to happen.
A lot of the buildings were boarded up in the direction I walked, but there was still a prickle at the nape of my neck, the sense of being watched.
Something was out there or in one of the buildings.
Nothing that could harm me, but this wasn’t exactly a neighborhood awash with humans. It was like they’d all moved out at once and just never returned.
I found the Rusty Nail bar two blocks from my apartment and there were a few vamps hanging around out in front. They stepped toward me as I approached, and I raised my hands, palms outward, in the international gesture of goodwill and peace.
“No trouble,” I said. “I just want a drink.” I glanced around for Jason, but maybe he was already inside.
The vampire closest to me snorted. “No trouble,” he mocked, his voice falsetto, and I stiffened, each of my muscles tensing. “Well, new guy, you have to pay to get in.”
A second goon stepped up alongside his friend. “Yeah, this is our bar.”
I almost relaxed. Their bar, was it? “Oh, yeah? We back in high school now, too?”
The first guy barked out a laugh and swung for my right cheek.
“For fuck’s sake.” I sprang into a defensive position, ready to take all three of them.
I didn’t want to maim or kill… Well, maybe maim, but I settled for just making sure they were all quiet.
When they were all laid out on the ground in front of me, their eyes wide and their bodies still, I spoke again. “You three remember your manners, now?”
The leader nodded, his pale face almost translucent under a flickering streetlamp.
I strode over him and yanked the door to the bar open. Holy fuck, it was gross in here. The floor was sticky with spilled blood, and its stale scent lingered in the air — death and decay. Something rotten. I wrinkled my nose.
This was sure the fuck a long way from Nightfall and the designer drinks Sebastian made sure were on hand. A vampire could get poisoned in this fucking dive.
“Drink?” The bartender looked at me expectantly, and I nodded.
“O neg.”
He slid a bottle down the bar, and I grabbed it before turning to survey the place.
Looked like it was about to be my local, so I should get to know it.
If I had to compare it to anything, it would have been Leia’s place, The Pour House, before Ben got his hands on it and directed the renovations there.
Except I could almost guarantee no one had drunk blood at Leia’s place.
Everyone in here was staring at me, and I stared right back. They’d get used to me. Or not. I didn’t give two shits.
I grabbed the bottled blood — I hated this shit, but it was better than losing my mind from the vein — and took a seat at the bar, although I deliberately faced the room, propping my foot against the stool next to me.
An entire bar full of Blackbloods, because that was definitely what these guys were.
There wasn’t a familiar face among them — not one Dupont supporter among them.
I was in the lions’ den… Swimming with the sharks.
Whichever animal analogy I most preferred.
Only, I could be a shark, too.
The women in the bar watched me, blatant curiosity in their eyes, and some of the humans shuffled closer to me, almost offering themselves as some sort of sacrifice.
I wasn’t interested in any of that subservient shit, and I hadn’t come here to hook up. I tilted the bottle to my lips and hid my grimace as the slightly coagulated low-quality blood slid down my throat. Shit, this was my life until I was done here.
I swallowed. This fucking mission needed to be over quick.
At least I’d made a good start here. All of these vampires now knew I was in their space.
They knew my face. By morning, I’d be the talk of the Blackbloods.
A newcomer built for a fight. That should make Esmé’s introduction between Brock and me easier.
A movement in the corner of the room caught my attention.
Some guy stood up then sat back down. No reason at all.
Crazy old fucker. Then I looked closer. Holy hell.
Jason? He looked grungy. Dirty, even. Like he’d robbed the nearest homeless guy’s clothes and left him naked in his cardboard box.
But maybe the new look was for the best. Brock knew a lot of our faces and Jason sure the hell didn’t look like Jason right now.
I approached his corner and hooked out the chair on the next table over. Then I raised my bottle to my lips to disguise their movement. “Hey. You look like shit,” I greeted him.
He muffled a chuckle as he gave the smallest of shrugs. “Better than looking like final death.” He swigged from his own bottle of blood, and my stomach turned as he smacked his lips together like he appreciated the taste. “Sebastian said things aren’t good.”
I shook my head, the movement also small, my lips pressed together.
“They know a lot more than we thought. And their agenda isn’t the same as we thought — with the mindless amassing of bodies and moving on.
They want New Orleans. Maybe br too. They want Nic gone.
Taken down entirely.” I leaned back, shifting my pose to casual and alone, in case anyone was watching, and drank again.
Sebastian inhaled then exhaled slowly. “They got a solid plan?”
“I aim to find out.” My voice was quiet and grim. Hopefully, no one could see the pair of us over here, talking to ourselves in a corner.
“If you need me to get Conri onside with a plan to get rid of the fuckers, let me know.”
I stayed still. I wasn’t convinced that involving the wolves further in vampire politics was a good idea. But I wasn’t one to say never, so I didn’t say anything at all.
“You good?” Quiet concern laced Jason’s tone, but I didn’t look at him.
Instead, I nodded thoughtfully. Where would I start?
The shithole I was living in? The shithole Sam lived in while Esmé had some sort of underground strategy room downstairs?
The fact I’d just acquired a pseudo-girlfriend, completely off any kind of Dupont plan?
That part, I truly didn’t know if I could cope with.
Being so close to a human woman again? I’d avoided them all since Camille. I just didn’t go there. It wasn’t worth the risk, the inevitable loss of innocent life.
“Well, I’m here if that changes, or you just need a friend.”
I nodded abruptly again before shoving my chair back and started striding from the bar. I’d see him again soon, no doubt.
But as I pushed through the creaking door and stepped onto the deck that was so soft it could only be rotten, he spoke softly behind me, and I almost jumped. Damn Jason for being so quiet. Or me for being so lost in my thoughts.
“I’ll give you a ride, dude.”