Carefully, Zack did his best to secure the medical tape that had held the bandage in place. He’d need to change it when he got back to the hotel, but it’d stay if he was cautious. Holding in a grumble, he trailed Vincent to the bar. They reached it together. The bartender was busy at the other end with a group of vampires.
Under his breath, Vincent demanded, “Okay, what kind of game was that?”
“What do you mean?” Zack whispered. He quickly wiped his tears from his cheeks and the residual tears before they could fall.
Vincent rolled his eyes. “I’ve been at this long enough to know when someone’s up to something. So spill.”
“Look, I don’t think anyone would want to be with a certain vicious vampire, and you probably don’t want to die. That makes your choices limited,” Zack replied quickly. “Your master is …ugh. You need all the wins you can get.”
“Why?” Vincent hissed. “Why wouldyouwant to help me?”
“Maybe I can’t stand to see someone in need without doing something.”
“I don’t need charity from hunter spawn.”
“Then next time, think of something better than some basic-ass insults,” Zack returned.
A brief smile graced Vincent’s lips before it faded to his haughty grin. “I will.”
“You know, I have no idea what to order here,” Zack said.
“We don’t, unless it’s for our masters. They’ve got one drink they make up for us here,” Vincent replied hurriedly. The bartender was finally finishing at the other end and making his way toward them. “Don’t make eye contact with the bartender. I’ll order for Mistress Candide’s pets as well as mine, got it?”
“Okay.” Zack managed to fix his gaze to the bar just before the vampire reached them.
“What?” the bartender demanded.
Vincent raised nine fingers, then made a small prayer gesture.
“And you?” the bartender said to Zack.
Zack mimicked Vincent. He held up three fingers, then made the prayer gesture.
“Yeah? Who for? I don’t recognize that.” The bartender grabbed Zack by the collar and hauled him forward. The bastard would’ve been able to see the crest tag just fine from the other side of the bar.
Zack was hauled off his feet. He scrambled to get his arms under him and support himself against the bar. “Let mego.”
The vampire twisted his hand and forced Zack’s head against the bar by using the collar as a handhold. “What was that,boy?”
A whoosh moved past Zack. It was a burst of cold greater than Takashi’s aura but less than Roger’s. A hint of lilacs mingled with the overwhelming scent of the grave for just a moment. The blur solidified into a vampire, but Zack couldn’t get a good look from his position.
The bartender yelped, then released Zack. As Zack slid off and stood on his own, the vampire who’d come to his rescuegrabbed the bartender by the back of the head and slammed it down onto the bar. His rescuer was a white guy who had a sharp scar through one eye, and that eye was milky white. Nathaniel, Zack’s mind supplied, thanks to his copious research.
“Apologize,” Nathaniel demanded of the bartender.
“Fuck you!” the bartender hissed as he squirmed.
Nathaniel knocked the bartender’s head against the surface again.
“I’m not going to say sor?—”
With a quick movement, Nathaniel broke the bartender’s neck and let him fall to the floor. It wasn’t a killing move against a vampire but did put an end to the conversation.
Others were definitely staring at them. Zack scanned the nearby area, doing his best to avoid eye contact, and everyone within ten feet was openly watching them. He checked Vincent for a reaction, but Vincent was unreadably calm.
Should he thank his savior? What was the protocol for this?
“He was manhandling another’s property,” Nathaniel said loudly.
