Stakes & Stilettos - Michelle Rowen [53]
“Hey, Sarah!” he said happily. His name was Ron and he was a big fan of the Slayer of Slayers. He thought I was some kind of hero. I hadn’t tried to change his mind yet.
“Order something to drink,” Thierry suggested. “Have you had any blood lately?”
I bit my bottom lip and glanced at his neck. “Not since last night.”
His expression darkened and he clasped his hands behind his back. “I am finding it difficult not to touch you. Especially after last night.”
I blinked. “Seriously?”
He nodded gravely. “It is troubling.”
I let that disturbing, yet also slightly exciting, knowledge settle over me, and then I told him about my reaction to the cross jewelry as well as my mind-control abilities. I left off the part about the unpaid-for merchandise.
“Stacy wants me to apologize to her.” I turned toward the bar and leaned heavily against it. “I’m getting the feeling that she won’t be receptive to helping us out until I do that. But I don’t know how to get in touch with her.”
“We now know she’s definitely in Toronto. It’s only a matter of time before we find her or she attempts to contact you again.”
I felt his hand at the small of my back then, and I looked up at him. Nothing happened other than the nice warm imprint of his touch. I smiled and slid my right hand up the center of his black shirt to his chest. “See? We’re touching and there’s no vampire apocalypse. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“Perhaps I’ve simply been overthinking the situation.” He took my hand in his and kissed it. “I picked up your school yearbooks. They’re on the desk in my office.”
“Thank you.”
“Now, if you’ll excuse me for a moment I must speak with Butch.”
He left me at the bar and Ron set up three shots of B-Positive in front of me and I took a moment to toss them each back. It was my favorite blood type. I continued to hold on to my theory that it would make me “Be Positive.” Ten weeks with fangs and I was still waiting for the positive energy to kick in.
I guess Ron recently had a shipment from the “Blood Delivery Guys,” the appropriately named blood delivery company. I saw several self-refrigerating silver kegs were piled up behind the bar neatly labeled with the corresponding blood type.
Ron leaned over the bar. “So have you heard?”
“Heard what?”
“About the Red Devil? He’s back!”
The image of my scarf-wearing hero flickered in my mind. “Who told you that?”
“George.”
I glanced over at the culprit, who wasn’t supposed to say anything about the Red Devil’s potential reappearance.
“It’s so exciting,” Ron continued. “Finally after a century I can start to feel a little bit safe again.”
“Has it really been a hundred years since he’s been around?” I asked.
He nodded and poured me another shot. “Everyone thought he was dead.”
I thought about that. It was a long time to disappear. “So why do you think he disappeared? And why did he choose now to return?”
He leaned closer. “I have a theory.”
“Do tell.”
He ran a cloth along the top of the bar. “I think that after centuries of being an incredible champion to vampirekind, he became disillusioned with the fight. I think he felt that no matter what he did, it didn’t change anything. Hunters would always exist and vampires would continue to be slain, so he quit and has tried to live a quiet, secretive life ever since, feeling that anything he did might only add to the problem instead of being part of the solution. And now, after all these years of self-reflection, he is willing to step back into the ring and do what he can even if it is an ultimately futile battle.”
I frowned. “Do you really believe that?”
He shrugged. “Who cares? He’s back! He’s going to protect us vampires from hunters. And how cool is it that he’s chosen Toronto out of all the cities on the entire planet to make his reappearance? Maybe the Red Devil is Canadian!”
“Yeah, that’s pretty cool.” My frown deepened. If he’d been gone for a hundred years, why did he choose to reappear now? Why here of all places? And why did he save me in particular? Not that I was complaining, but still, it didn’t make a whole