“And the gods?”
“No. This is outside of Ordinary. Gods don’t leave unless they pick up their power.”
“Have you no other friends?”
“I do. But I have you. And right now, I could use a vampire’s—a very old vampire’s—opinion.”
“We aren’t talking about a new tattoo are we?”
“No. We’re talking about a demon.”
Rossi’s eye lit up, and he lifted the tiny cup, drained the dark contents, then licked the corner of his lip, erasing a stray drop that was too red to be just coffee. “I’ll get my coat.”
Chapter 27
The driveto Cook’s Chasm usually took about an hour. But it was good weather, Ordinary wasn’t the only coastal town throwing some kind of shindig for tourists, and it was a Sunday evening. That meant traffic was heavier than usual.
I didn’t worry though. We made it to Yachats before sunset, so I stopped off at my favorite fish and chips joint and got a snack. Then I drove to the short road that ended in a wide parking lot facing the ocean.
Rossi seemed content to sit in the car with me and watch the sun go down. Since we were outside of Ordinary, he’d donned his vampire fashion statements: a peacoat, an expensive-looking beanie, leather gloves, light scarf, and sunglasses.
He should have looked ridiculous, instead he looked like a model from a magazine explaining how to vacation in the Swiss Alps for only millions a day.
Vampires didn’t burn up in sunlight, I knew that. But it wasn’t exactly comfortable for them to be in full sun for long, either. Except for inside Ordinary. It was one of the reasons Rossi had come to town, stayed, and built his family.
“So.” Rossi lowered his sunglasses, his shocking-blue eye gazing out over the top of them, the black patch a harsh reminder of his injuries. “How long are we going to stay here and not see Bathin?”
“We’re going.” I watched the cloudless sky blush bright and hard—that bright, angry slap of color slowly bruising toward purple and deep blue. “I’m just giving the tourists a little time to thin out.”
He hummed and didn’t call me on my lie.
Another few minutes ticked by. Maybe a half-hour. The stars were popping out above us, the lights of the little town glowing through windows behind us.
“What’s the worst that can happen?” I asked.
“You could be wrong.”
I nodded, chewing on my lip. “What’s the best that can happen?”
“You could be wrong.”
I sighed and rubbed at my eyes. “I hope you’re going to give me clearer opinions once we’re there.”
“You want my opinion on everything I see?”
I knew better than to fall into that trap. “No. Just if I ask you something, give me two loaded barrels of truth, okay?”
“That was always the plan.”
I started the car. Fiddled with the heater, turned the radio to a different station, messed with the volume.
“Maybe I should drive?” he suggested.
“No, you don’t get to drive the police cruiser. I’m going. We’re going.”
Rossi pressed his sunglasses back up his nose and waited.
I finally shifted the car into reverse and made my way slowly, maybe a little too slowly, through the neighborhood, and back onto the highway.
