Vincent almost blushed. Roger could see the slightest pinking of his cheeks around the growing bruises of his right eye. “Nathaniel’s a mouthful.”
“Mm. Please get me a bag.”
“On it, ma—therfucker,” Vincent replied.
Roger finished bathing Kit and wondered how long it would take to wash the blood and pain from his own soul.I have eternity to find out.
CHAPTER 3
Three hours passed. Kit and Vincent were clean and settled in. Kit slept on the couch while Vincent did the same on the floor beside them. Thankfully, Nathaniel had a heap of extra blankets and pillows to make them comfortable.
Roger took up a spot by the window. His anger cooled into a lingering rage, a yearning for retribution that settled into his bones. The strength of it kept him on his feet, though the ache of exhaustion threatened to overtake him.
Nathaniel rapped on the door in the same rhythm Vincent had done before letting himself into his apartment. After taking in the sight of his fairly full living room, he wandered over to his fridge and took out two beers and a bag of blood. He crossed the room to where Roger stood and offered him a beer.
Nathaniel’s voice had a natural timbre that worked well for a grouchy barkeep, and like many vampires, he’d adopted the local accent rather than keeping his original. “I should thank you for the extra business. We’ll be open until dawn, assuming the cops don’t shut us down.”
“You worry about mortal authorities?” Roger asked.
Nathaniel snorted. “You’ve been sitting next to the throne too long, former captain. You forget how the rest of us live. Noteveryone’s made of billions of dollars that they can use to pay off troublesome mortals.”
“You’ve had the bar for decades. Isn’t business?—”
“The business is fine, though the pandemic’s put a crunch on it.” Nathaniel motioned around them. “I own the damn building. But there’s this thing called taxes. And another thing known as coven dues. Not just for my drinking privileges but the bar.”
“Hadn’t considered that,” Roger murmured. He wrenched off the beer’s bottlecap but wound up watching the bubbles rather than taking a sip. Alcohol was a way to forget his pains, though one mortal-made beer wouldn’t be enough to dampen any of his senses. He set it down on the window ledge. “You said former captain.”
“I did.” Nathaniel took out his phone and read a text aloud. “‘The vampire known as Roger, Gentleman Pirate of the Seven Seas, is no longer my captain. Henceforth, he shall not be welcomed in the territory of the Great Lakes Coven. Anyone who gives him aid will find themselves incurring my wrath. Your Master, Seamus.’”
“Fuck.” Roger wiped a hand down his face. Passing up on a beer felt foolish now. He grabbed it and took a swig. Shaking his head, he said, “If you can provide safety for Kit and Vincent, I would be grateful. I can?—”
“Hold on there.” Nathaniel nodded at the door. “Come with me a moment, yeah?”
Roger wanted to say no. He longed to wake and discover that the last several hours had been nothing but a terrible dream.That would be the easy way out and leave me caught in Seamus’s web. Long for this moment. Need this.He set the bottle down and gestured for Nathaniel to lead the way.
Nathaniel locked the apartment on their way out and tromped down the stairs to the first floor. He pulled a hairband and a black baseball cap with the nameLast Dealembroideredonto it out of a locker beside the staircase. “Could use your help clearing dishes. Had to send Phil home.”
Roger took the hairband and baseball cap. “I’m exiled, and you want me to walk through your bar?”
“Everyone’s drunk off their asses and believe you’re too busy to show up in a bar no one’s seen you enter in forty years. Pull up your hair, keep the hat low, don’t look anyone in the eye, and they’re not going to notice shit.” They’d reached the kitchen. Nathaniel took a busboy tray and shoved it into Roger’s hands. “Try not to break anything.”
The girl who’d been at the grill was busy at the dishwasher, pulling free a clean batch of dishes before shoving in a set of dirty. Her gaze lingered on Roger. She was sizing him up with a scrutiny in her eyes that spoke to an older age than she appeared. “Just bring it back here and hand it off when it’s full.”
“Right,” Roger muttered. He still wasn’t certain this was the smart course of action. But Nathaniel had taken him in when he could have slammed the door in his face. Roger did as Nathaniel instructed with his hair and the hat, let his shoulders droop, and hung his head a little as he followed Nathaniel into the bar.
The Last Deal was packed from wall to wall despite the late hour. Each of the wooden tables seemed overflowing with empty glasses and plates. The floorboards creaked under the weight of a large demon who wasn’t bothering with a human disguise at the pool table. A set of tables had been pushed together nearer to the pool tables, and clamoring patrons were impatiently waiting on their turn at a table. What had been a fireplace in the 1970s was now a faux mantle with a fake fire crackling on an HD screen. Which was a good thing because two guests pushed each other, and one tumbled back against the screen.
Nathaniel handled the rowdiness. The large demon with curling horns that scraped the ceiling helped him. Roger began his task of gathering dishes.
The task was needling Roger. Instead of taking the threat of Seamus seriously, Nathaniel wanted him in public removing dirty silverware? Why? What was the point? He should be finding a discreet hotel with what cash he had left. Candide might be done with her party. She might be willing to help him.But not likely. I’m on my own, and I’m fucked.
“So then, get this,” a drunk patron was saying to a table of friends. “I’m like three weeks a vampire. Three weeks. Or was it three months?”
“Getonwith it,” a friend demanded.
Roger dipped around the sway of the drunk and plucked up another empty glass. But the tray was almost full, and he had to figure out how to put it in without cracking anything beneath it.
“Fine, fine. I’m a fledgling baby vampire,” the drunk continued, “and my sire drags me in front of Seamus to show me off like a fucking doll. Oh, he thought he was doing something special. Like somehow, I was this unique marvel. Seamus is like ready to stake me right there. He’s yelling at my sire that he hadn’t gotten permission and he wasn’t strong enough. That I was nothing more than a human with sharper teeth. And Roger, Roger’s justsittingthere, like he did, you know? Just sitting all calm while Seamus rants about the dilution of his sire line, and Rogeryawns. Like what vampire needs to yawn, you know? But it catches Seamus’s attention, and suddenly, Roger’s looking at me with those eyes. I swear those eyes can see your soul, you know? Deep brown like the woods. Anyway, Roger scans me over and says, ‘You’re that singer, aren’t you? Lovely voice. We should see if Dempsey has a song for you.’ And it turns out that Seamus had been looking to launch a recording studio and wanted some of his own vamps to use it.”
