Accidentally Married To a Vampire(28)

She sighed with relief. Gay bar! Sweet lord, thank you. She lifted her chin, and smiled. "Where can a girl get a killer Mojito around here?"

A few of the men smiled at her and turned back to their conversations. One man, who was wearing leather chaps, jeans, and a leather vest, pointed toward the bar. "Fernando there, makes the meanest Mojito this side of the Caribbean. Just hope you're a fan of hangovers."

Fernando-a lanky, tall man with short brown hair-looked up from behind the bar, shaking a martini, and gave her a wink.

Helena bellied up to the only open space at the very end of the bar. For a middle of nowhere gay bar, the place was packed.

"Mojito, sweetheart?" Fernando asked.

Helena paused, rethinking her choice. "Actually, make it a double Don Pedro and keep em' coming."

Tonight she just wanted to forget. Forget that a vampire had broken her heart. Forget that there were gods abducting vampires and making them into Demilords to kill Obscuros. Forget that she was "married" to a vampire she hadn't actually married and who didn't love her. God-effing-double dammit, life bit hard!

Pity party again, Helena?

Yes! Okay … Yes! I am having my pity party so … get out the pity-piñata and the pity-pretzels!

Fernando slid a thick tumbler her way. Helena caught it in her hand and threw it back. She wiped her mouth with her hand and nodded to Fernando. He raised one brow and returned to refill her glass.

"Man problems, honey?" Fernando asked as he refilled her glass.

Helena sneered. "You could say that."

He rested his hand on top of hers. "Let me give you a piece of advice: none of them are worth it. They'll say anything to get in your pants-promise you the stars-then leave you the minute they get bored. Save yourself the trouble and take up tennis or yoga."

"Oh, put a clamp on it, Fernando," said the redheaded man next to her. He was wearing black jeans and a wife-beater. "Don't listen to him, honey. He's just bitter because Pepe dumped his ass for a stockbroker."

Helena's chest buzzed with warmth as the second double shot took hold. She hit her palm on the bar and said, "That's because men are pigs! What do you expect?"

Fernando laughed. "See, Joe. She gets it."

"Maybe the problem isn't the man, but the toy. I've never been dumped," Joe bragged.

Fernando rolled his eyes. "You're just in denial." He moved down the bar to fill empty beer glasses.

"Really, honey. Don't you listen to him," Joe said. "You get what you deserve in life, and that includes your relationships."

Helena snorted. "Maybe." But what the hell did she do to deserve this paranormal soap opera? "Maybe not. Sometimes life is just unfair."

The man chuckled. "What's your name?"

Something about the redheaded man seemed vaguely familiar, but Helena couldn't put her finger on it. "I'm Lena." She threw back the third glass. "Recently brokenhearted and currently drowning her sorrow in the finest tequila money can buy."

The man nodded. "I'm Joe."

Helena smiled. "Well, Mr. Never Been Dumped, what's your secret?"

He took a sip from his frosty mug. "Simple. I'm a man; I know what they want," he said with a wide grin.

Helena laughed. "I'm pretty sure that even if I nailed that part, things wouldn't change for me."

Joe raised one brow. "It's not so hard to figure out-all starts with the kiss. It's your lover's calling card. Get that right … and a man will follow you to the ends of the earth no matter what happens."

"Ha!" she snorted. "Am I drunk, or did you just tell me I have relationship problems because I can't kiss?"

Helena noticed the room starting to swirl. On her empty stomach, the tequila had just traveled at supersonic speed to her bloodstream. Hiccup! Helena covered her mouth. "Okay, maybe I am a teensie bit drunk. But you're crazy if you think a kiss could get a man to love you."                       
       
           



       

Joe chuckled. "The kiss is the most powerful tool in your box. In fact, I bet I can teach you to kiss so hot you'll set lips on fire and even a gay man would pay you for lessons."

Helena laughed. "What the hell. I'm in."





***





Andrus charged through the parking lot, anger spilling from every pore. What the hell was the woman thinking going into a dive like this? Images flowed through his mind of finding Helena screaming as some man roughed her up, intending to do vile things to her innocent body.

Andrus raised his arm and slid his hand under the neck of his leather duster, readying to pull the sword strapped to his back. He yanked open the first set of doors and then stopped dead in his tracks.

On the other side of the second door he could hear men screaming loudly. Shit! He swung it open.

Like the lethal assassin that he was, his mind quickly went to work assessing the scene. He efficiently identified all of the exits, how many people were in the room, and which individuals were possibly concealing a weapon. Which was, yep, just about every guy in the joint.

Great choice, Helena. Well, at least they all smelled mortal. Then again, the sun was just about to go down, and this looked like the exact kind of place an Obscuro would go for their next meal.

Andrus' eyes zeroed in on the opposite end of the room where the men were gathered around someone, cheering wildly, raising their glasses.

Helena. They must have her. These foul males would pay for touching her. First, he had to get her to safety, then he'd return to exact justice.

Andrus frantically pushed past several large, leather clad men who protested as they fell to the side but immediately backed down once they caught a glimpse of him.

"Hi there! What's your name?" said a large man in a leather jacket. The other man to his side gasped and smiled. "Oh, my. Look what my fairy godmother dragged in. Yum."

Andrus frowned. These men were … extremely friendly for such rough-looking types. He ignored them and kept moving. Just as he reached the last barricade of bodies, he spotted a large, redheaded man facing the crowd holding up a one hundred dollar bill.

Then he saw Helena.

His vision dotted with red. A young, shirtless man and wearing only jeans and chaps held Helena in his arms and was leaning in to kiss her.

Bastard!

Andrus would take his head first.

He pushed the man away. "Get the hell off her!" If the sleaze bucket had a shirt, Andrus would be holding him up by it. But he didn't, so Andrus would opt for ripping off his arms instead.

Helena stumbled back. "Andrus! Hey, honey!" She flung her arms around his neck. "Nice to see you, but you'll need to wait your turn."

Andrus surveyed the rowdy crowd surrounding them. They were laughing and smiling. And winking?

"You're not … in distress?" Andrus asked.

The redheaded man looked at Helena. "This must be the asshole who broke your heart."

Helena wobbled and poked Andrus in the chest. "This guy? Nooo, but he's a lying pig just the same."

Was she drunk?

Andrus took a whiff. Holy cocktail! The woman smells like she's about to vaporize. And why does this place smell like Polo cologne mixed with gasoline?

"What the hell is going on, Helena?"

She stepped forward and jabbed him in the chest again. "I'm just having a little fun! But if you wanna to play, you'll have to pay, Bub! One hundred buckaroos, like Ricky boy here." She flicked her thumb toward the shirtless guy she'd been just about to kiss.

Helena stumbled to the side. Andrus caught her arm and frowned. She was wasted.

"What's gotten into you?"

Helena laughed. "Jealous?"

Was he? He certainly wasn't happy to see her about to kiss a stranger. He grabbed her, pulled her to the bar, and then sent the onlookers a warning with his eyes and mind. They obediently returned to their conversations.

He stared deeply into her blue eyes. "Maybe."

"And what can good old Fernando get you this evening?" the bartender asked with an eager smile.

Andrus noticed that Fernando had on the same leather pants and black tee outfit.

Nice look. Andrus swiped the small Plexiglas freestanding menu from the counter and then asked for a Guinness and chicken fingers. "You need to eat something," he said to Helena.

"Are you over her?" Helena asked. "Really, reeeeally over her?"

Andrus knew immediately to which "her" she was referring. The answer wasn't so simple. How could he be over the woman who'd not only broken his heart, but his spirit too? She changed him into a monster, and he had to look at himself every day, a constant reminder of her betrayal.                       
       
           



       

"No. I will not be over her until justice is served," he said coldly.

Fernando returned with a thick frosty mug of dark brown beer, smiling. "On the house."

What friendly service. Andrus nodded and threw down a twenty anyway. Fernando winked at him.

Yes, very friendly.

"So you still love her, don't you?" Helena asked.