Forever, it seems. “I have a Ford Mustang and a Honda Pilot back in Atlantic City. In Scotland and London, I have Land Rovers. At my other houses, I have cars I can easily get serviced locally. Exotic cars are a pain in the ass and draw too much attention from bystanders and the IRS. Not to mention, they attract crime. Good luck trying to find someone who will change the oil for you if you want to take a road trip.”
“You take road trips?”
“On occasion. Well-planned, obviously, for stops and logistics. Hence why an SUV is a smarter choice. I can carry supplies with me to make a room safe. Vampire equivalent of roughing it.”
“I am pleasantly surprised. I don’t think I’ve ever met a vampire who doesn’t think roughing it is drinking bagged blood, much less driving somewhere.”
“I’ve rented RVs, on occasion. Sometimes, I need to get away from the city and be alone but can’t go to Scotland. Not to mention, you have to remember the time I grew up in. Anything approaching ‘roughing it,’ to me, is still a luxury compared to back then. I refuse to lose sight of that.”
Her hand comes to rest on my right thigh. “I can honestly say I’ve never met a vampire like you before.”
I take the chance to let my hand rest on top of hers, lacing fingers with her. “And I can honestly say I’ve never met another human like you before.”
Fight Club is located in a neutral zone of sorts, as laid out by the treaty Lucius struck with Garrett Green of the Tucson werewolves. It’s in an industrial area, a large, nondescript warehouse building. The parking lot is maybe three-quarters full.
I normally would drop her by the door and go park, but I refuse to let her wait alone. Especially since a large, muscle-bound guy stands watch outside the door. Probably a shifter.
I park. Before I get out to open her door for her, she stays me with her hand. “Let me lead, please? I know the guy at the door. He’s one of the wolves. No pissing contests. Right?”
“He’s not the first shifter I’ve dealt with, and he won’t be the last.”
“Is that a yes? My rep is on the line, here.” I sense her anxiety isn’t just because of me but because we’re out at night. I didn’t miss how her head was on a swivel as we drove, and several times she reached over to confirm the door was locked.
“Yes, of course, I’ll behave.” I get out and open her door for her, holding my arm out for her the way I did that first night. I love the warmth from her touch and slow my strides, so she doesn’t have any trouble keeping up with me across the parking lot.
From the way the bouncer’s nose wrinkles and how his stance tenses, I know he’s already scented me.
“Hey, Perry,” she calls out.
That apparently throws him off-balance, and he scowls. “Connie? Is that you?”
“Yeah, this is Dexter. We have an appointment with Alpha Green. He’s expecting us. He asked me to bring Dexter and said he’d leave word.”
He still regards me warily, but he nods. “Boss said you were coming.” He opens the door for us, but I suspect if he had his preference, he’d stake me.
“Thanks!” she brightly says and leads the way in, releasing my arm once we’re inside.
I fight the urge to grab her hand and pull her back against my side. All eyes momentarily turn, taking her in, and I could easily murder every last one of them before the first one even hit the floor.
Shit. I do have it bad for her.
She walks over to the bar. “Hey, Alpha Green’s expecting us,” she says to the bartender.
He nods and picks up a phone, even as his wary gaze remains on me.
I get it, why she’s using his title. Trying to soothe ruffled scruffs and warn people that it’s official business, not a social call.
Eventually, attention turns away from us and to a fight getting ready to happen in the cage farther back in the space.
While we wait, I glance around at the gathered crowd. There are shifters of various species, mostly wolves and coyotes, but at least one bear and a cat of some sort. Panther, perhaps? Humans, too. I sense no other vampires here tonight, although I smell the occasional hint of previous visits. The dingy warehouse’s exterior belies the feel of the bar’s interior. Like it’s deliberately spartan and industrial, designed for a rougher crowd not looking for or needing a manufactured grungy hipster vibe to assuage their egos. But it’s clean and looks like there was care taken to choosing the tables, chairs, high-tops—the bar itself. It’s not a haphazard dumpster-diving mishmash.
I lean in so I can speak in her ear. “You know, I could hire several of Garrett’s men to protect you.”
“Yeah, likethat’snot overkill? I go from an overprotective vampire to several overprotective wolves? That won’t draw the slightest bit of attention to me. Not at allll.”
“I sense sarcasm.”
“You sense right.” She turns to me. “I don’t want bodyguards.”
