I’d taken to carrying my badge around, on the off chance I ran into any more pissed-off vampires, accident-prone weres, or promiscuous shapeshifters. I pulled it out of my purse. “I’m not. I’m here to pick up a friend.”
“Oh. Her.” He held open the door and didn’t ask to see my ID.
Either he was telepathic, or he knew who I wanted to pick up already. Not good.
* * *
Inside, the bar was divetastic. It wasn’t smoky, but my shoes stuck to the stairs, and I was glad I hadn’t dressed up. The bar occupied an island in the center of the room, with a bartender stranded inside it; there were tables on one side and a dance floor on the other. In the back of the room, very private booths hugged the wall. It wasn’t that big a place, but it was crowded. Four nights till the full moon on New Year’s, and the locals were whooping it up. There was loud music playing, even if it seemed too early for them to dance.
I descended the steps to the floor, trying to not look as out of place as I felt. I didn’t have to push through the crowd—the people standing made room for me while ignoring me. I wondered if this was what it felt like to have vampire-style look-away on.
I wove my way between clusters of people talking and drinking, with an electric feeling at my front and my back. Was this how sharks felt, swimming through the sea? I saw Gina, her head in her arms, at the bar.
I pulled up a chair. “Hey, sexy.”
She tilted her head up. I could see where her eyeliner was smudged. The weres here didn’t need to see her face to know she’d been crying—they could probably all smell the salt of her tears.
“Hey. Thanks.”
“No problem.” The bartender, from his spot behind Gina, eyed me inquisitively. I shook my head, and he went on to the next new patron. “So what happened? Want to talk?” I scooted my chair in closer.
“I ended things. It was rough.” She finished off the clear drink in front of her, slamming down the empty glass, making the ice clink inside.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Gina.”
“Don’t be. I don’t know why I ever thought things would work out between us.” She flagged the bartender down, and he obligingly took her glass to pour her another of whatever had been in it before. “He was so hurt, Edie. That’s what was worst.” I could smell the alcohol on her breath. “I really meant something to him. And he meant the world to me.”
I scooted my bar stool closer. “Then what went wrong?”
“He wanted me to change for him.” The bartender put down a fresh drink. “And not just lose-a-few-pounds change, but all the way change.”
“You mean—” I said, and looked around at all the other patrons of the bar. “Change, change?”
“Yeah.”
“He wanted to bite you?”
“He already did. It doesn’t have to be bites, you know. There are less violent ways.” I did not want to think of my co-worker having sex with a bear, so I kept my mind and mouth shut. “It takes a month to kick in—not a month really, but a moon. This moon coming up was supposed to be my moon. But I stopped it.”
“How?”
“We’ve got shots. And since I’m a vet, I can prescribe them for myself. The laws are different, heh.” She took hold of the drink and pounded it down. “And that was that.”
I had a lot of questions about this process—why was anyone ever bitten if they didn’t have to stay that way?—but I kept them to myself for now.
“Anyways. I’m not fit to drive.” Gina pushed herself away from the bar and teetered a bit.
“How much have you had to drink?”
“Four or five.”
“Of?”
“Vodka tonics.”
“Jesus.”
Gina gave me a morbid smile. “Perhaps also of interest to you, as my medical adviser for the evening, is that I usually abstain, and I can’t go home like this. My parents think I’m at work tonight. Can I just come home with you to your place?” Her smile got tight, and I could hear the tears just waiting to come out in her voice.
“Oh, Gina—of course.” My place was currently occupied to the gills. I ran through ideas. Credit-carded hotel rooms? The week between Christmas and New Year’s was likely to be expensive, and/or booked. I did think of one person to call. “Hang on, and stay here. I’ll be right back.” I hopped off my stool and went back to the hopefully quieter bathroom to make a call.
* * *
Things got louder as I went down the hall to the bathroom—maybe I’d have to exit the building to get some peace. There were the two doors for the bathrooms on my right, a saloon door for a kitchen to my left, and at the end of the hall, a larger, thicker door. Which sounded like it had a sports stadium behind it. Inside the bathroom wasn’t any better—the sound from outside came in through the wall and echoed around the bathroom’s tile.