She accepted credit cards from mortals, but demanded payment in humankind from witches and wizards.
After all, she had to provide suitable nourishment for the handsome vampire chained in the cellar.
* * *
Chapter 4
Kay stifled a yawn as she finished filling the food and water dishes for the dogs and cats—and one bad-tempered ferret—that would be spending the weekend at the clinic. A pretty little cocker spaniel, who’d had some surgery earlier in the day, whined when Kay closed the cage door.
“You’ll be better soon, Blackie,” Kay said, scratching the dog’s ears. “I’ll see you Monday.”
Leaving the kennel, she grabbed her sweater, then waited by the door for Wanda, who was shutting down the computer.
“I’m starving,” Kay said. “Let’s go grab some dinner at Conklin’s. I’m in the mood for a good steak.” She always had a healthy appetite, and never more so than right before the full moon. Hard to believe it was almost that time again.
“Sounds good to me,” Wanda said. “I’m going to go home and change first. I’ll meet you there in twenty minutes.”
“Okay. And then we can go to my place for dessert. I made an apple pie.”
“You make a mean apple pie,” Wanda remarked, licking the last of the crumbs from her lips.
“There’s more.”
“Don’t tempt me.” Wanda put her plate on the coffee table. “So, what shall we do tonight?”
“I don’t know.” Kay glanced at the new paperback waiting for her on the end table. “It’s been a long week, and …”
Wanda followed her gaze, then shook her head. “Oh no, you don’t. I know exactly what you’re thinking, and you can put it out of your head right now. It’s the weekend, girlfriend, time to kick up our heels.”
Kay shook her head. “I know what you’re thinking, too. And you can just forget it. I’m not going to that nightclub. We can go to a movie or bowling or whatever, but no nightclubs. I don’t party and I don’t sleep around and that’s all the guys who go to places like The Roan Horse are interested in.”
“How do you know that?” Wanda demanded, arms akimbo. “You’ve never even been there.”
“I’ve heard stories about that place.” Kay regarded Wanda’s appearance. With her spiked blond hair, black lipstick, black sweater, and skintight pants, Wanda looked like an escapee from a horror movie, but it was all the rage now. Kay had tried the Goth look once, but it wasn’t for her.
“Do you believe everything you hear?” Wanda asked.
“Not everything,” Kay admitted, but there were more strange things in heaven and on Earth than Wanda knew.
“Come on,” Wanda said impatiently. “Let’s at least check it out. It’ll do you good to get out of the house. You’ve been moping around here long enough.”
She had good reason to mope, Kay thought glumly. In just a few months, her father was going to announce her engagement to Victor Rinaldi, a man who was, in Kay’s opinion, an arrogant ass.
Wanda tapped her fingers on the arm of the sofa. “If you don’t like the club, we’ll leave and go to the movies.”
“You promise?” Kay asked, her resolve weakening.
“Yes, now hurry up and change and let’s go.”
Tired of arguing, Kay hurried into her bedroom. Shrugging out of her jeans and sweater, she pulled on a long-sleeved white silk shirt, a short black skirt, black leggings, and a pair of knee-high black boots that had cost her a month’s pay and were worth every penny.
Wanda grinned when Kay returned to the living room. “You’ll knock ’em dead.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Cheer up, girlfriend. Maybe a little firewater will put a sparkle in your eye and a spring in your step.”
Kay rolled her eyes at the firewater reference. Wanda didn’t do it often, but every now and then she couldn’t resist making a remark about Kay’s Lakota heritage.
Wanda moved toward the door, then paused and glanced over her shoulder. “You coming or not?”
“All right, paleface,” Kay said with an exaggerated air of resignation. “Let’s get it over with.”
Wanda was right, Kay thought as they climbed into Wanda’s red Jetta and drove to the club. She might as well go out and have a good time while she could.
It was Friday night and The Roan Horse was rockin’. Located within driving distance of several small towns, it was a magnet for singles—mostly young Lakota and Cheyenne males. Kay shook her head as she crossed the threshold. It was too crowded, too noisy, and after one glance at the occupants, she knew coming here had been a mistake.