“That it?” She injected a bored note into her voice. “Or would you like me to dance a jig as well?”
He chuckled, and a rueful smile spread over his face. Andy grinned back. Under the wariness and the worry on his face, the kid was rather good looking.
“No, you’re okay, ma’am. You’re good to go.” He nodded through the gates into the town. “Best place to go is Val’s. Just head up the road and it’s on your left, can’t miss it.”
“Thank you.” She inclined her head, shrugged her pack to a more comfortable position and walked into Sanctuary.
Inside the walls with their impressive defenses it was pretty much the same as every other town she’d visited. Dilapidated buildings lined the streets, and as she walked further she passed inhabited houses like small fortresses.
It didn’t take her long to reach Val’s bar. Like the rest of the town it was a little worse for wear. Right at the moment though, it looked like heaven. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d stopped. Sitting in an actual chair rather than on the ground would be a novelty, and if they had running water and a bath, she might just think she’d died and gone to heaven.
The hackles on the back of her neck rose a second before the door in front of her burst open. A young lad stumbled out, glaring over his shoulder to snarl. “You’ll regret saying no. Jed doesn’t like people who don’t play ball.”
Andy stopped. The kid righted himself, his yellowish gaze sweeping over her, and all her instincts went into high alert. He wasn’t human, not with eyes like that. Her palms itched, but she fought the compulsion to draw her sickles.
“What you lookin’ at?” he snarled, recoiling a little from her presence. Without realizing what he was doing he kept her in front of him as he skirted around her. He couldn’t know what she was, but most paranormal creatures recognized the ultimate predator when they saw one.
Shrugging, she carried on into the bar. Perhaps they had coffee. Her brain all but shut down at the thought. She could smell it already, taste the stuff on her tongue. It was her only vice, if you discounted bloody murder and reaping souls. She’d run out weeks ago and cold turkey was no fun. It made her cranky.
She caught the swinging door on the way out, halting it with a flat hand on the wood and pushing back inwards. Her fingertips came away tingling. A devil’s trap at the gate, and active ash-wood inlaid in the door? This place got any more interesting, and she’d have to raid an old cinema for popcorn.
After the bright sunlight outside, entering the room was like being plunged into cool water. Andy stood in the doorway and let her eyesight adjust. Her sense of smell kicked in first. The stench of blood under pine floor cleaner was unmistakable—as was the fact someone had tried to scrub more than one kind of blood off the wooden floor. Under the Ghoul she could make out Vampire, Were and…Brownie? Holy hell, if they’d managed to see off a Brownie infestation then these people were serious players.
The room resolved itself into a large, almost cavernous space with a long bar at one end. At one time four pool tables had stood near the door, rings on the floor marking their positions like invisible sentinels. Sauntering down the center of the room, she headed towards the bar. Every set of eyes in the room was on her, which didn’t surprise her after the Werewolf.
She reached the bar. Elbows on the wooden surface, she planted a booted foot on the rail and smiled at the woman wiping glasses behind the bar. Andy knew the smile didn’t reach her eyes, but it didn’t matter. The dark glasses did more than shield her eyes from the sun.
“Howdy. What’ll it be?”
The barmaid put a glass away next to an army of its cohorts lining the shelves. Andy wasn’t fooled by the easy manner. If the woman didn’t have at least three weapons within easy reach she was a monkey’s uncle. Or aunt. Whatever.
“A refill of water, and if you’ve got some coffee I’ll love you forever.”
Andy pitched her voice to polite and friendly as she put her water bottle on the bar. Invulnerable she might be, but being shot hurt. Since she had no active job in this town, all she wanted was to resupply, and perhaps get a good night’s sleep.
“Room for a night, if there’s one available. If not, I’ll kip down in here…with your permission, of course.”
The woman, Val presumably, inclined her head. “One water and a meal on the house, coffee you gotta pay for.”
“You trade?” It was what Andy had expected. Her hands were already in her pockets as she withdrew a few trinkets she’d collected on her travels. Lip-salve, a box of old plasters with smurfs on them and a couple of disposable lighters. All suitable payment for the supplies she needed.
Val’s keen eyes assessed the offerings, and she nodded towards a table nearby. “Can do, have a seat and I’ll bring them over. No rooms, you sleep in here. There’s someone on the bar all night.”
Andy’s lips quirked as she turned and headed towards the table indicated. In other words, there will be someone with a gun on you all night, so don’t try anything funny. Good policy.
Reaching the table, she slid her pack off her shoulders and shoved it under the table, out of the way. The intake of breath behind her warned Andy that her sickles had been spotted. She ignored it and sat. Since the whole thing was spelled to be inconspicuous, then that meant there were spells here that countered illusion. She really was going to have to pick up some popcorn.
She lounged back in the chair and took her time looking around the room. She didn’t bother with the people, instead she scanned the walls and the ceiling. She couldn’t see them, but she knew the enchantments were there.
Her water and food arrived. Andy gave up her search. With tricks like holy water and PVA glue to draw devil traps she was sure they’d gotten inventive here too. If she wasn’t very much mistaken then her cutlery was silver plate, and she’d bet her bottom dollar that the water had a drop of the holy stuff in it as well. Boiling Vamps from the inside was a new approach. Nice.
She studied the food in front of her for a while. One of the figures the other side of the room peeled himself from the wall and headed her way. Andy watched him from the corner of her eye. He didn’t walk, he stalked…a predator like her. The rifle in his hand seemed an extension of his being, like her sickles were, and a pistol played peek-a-boo from his shoulder holster.
Most men didn’t bother with holsters, just shoved their pistols into the waistband of their pants. Andy had always wondered how many had done the gene pool a favor and castrated themselves. Stupidity like that didn’t deserve to breed.
“Good work with the Ghouls. I’m impressed,” she commented as he reached the table and spun a chair around to straddle it. He looked back, his blue-grey eyes as blank as his expression.
Cute and hot. Very hot.
She might not be human, but she was female. Everything about this guy—from the blond velvet-like stubble on his scalp to the solid, ripped body the tight T-shirt hinted at—called to every feminine instinct she had. Worse, in the middle of a cruelly handsome face sat a perfectly straight nose and a sinful pair of lips that made even a reaper think wanton thoughts.
“The Brownies impressed me more though.” Andy leaned back in her chair and studied him more closely. To his credit he didn’t flinch. “How’d you manage to waste the little freaks? They’re worse than a bad dose of the clap.”
Mr. Tall, blond, and less-than-chatty shrugged but didn’t answer her question. Instead he nodded at the plate in front of her. “Not hungry?”
The voice didn’t match the rest of the package. Andy had traveled the length and breadth of the land. She’d tracked and reaped virtually every creature within living legend and a fair few that weren’t. The guy in front of her was human, but the voice. Ohmygod, the voice was something else.
If Andy didn’t know better, couldn’t see better, she’d swear he was a Vamp, or even a fae…some being with the ability to hypnotize with sound alone. Smooth as silk, it went down like a good whiskey, making her think of languorous nights in front of a roaring fire. Then the bite kicked in, like the burn of a good shot as it slid down her throat. Satin over a core of pure steel. Of all the creatures Andy had come across on the roads, her instincts warned her that this one, this mere human, was the most dangerous.
“Not particularly.”
She met him look for look. Foolish perhaps but she found she rather enjoyed baiting him. She knew that, even at this moment, he was making the decision on her. One signal, and she’d be treated to the same fate as the Ghoul’s whose blood had decorated the floor beneath her feet.
“Neat.” She nodded to the items on the table. “Silver for Weres. Splash of holy water in the glass by any chance?”
He started, and Andy’s lips quirked again. She’d surprised him. Lifting the glass she took a long swallow then put it back on the table pointedly.
“Just proves you ain’t a Vamp. Take off the glasses.”
Her eyebrow winged up. There was no way to take that as anything other than an order. As a rule she didn’t take well to orders…
“Tell me your name.” She hooked a finger around the arm of her glasses and slid them down her nose to look at him over the top. Dark eyes met light, and her breath caught for a moment. Andy kicked herself. Oh for heaven’s sake, get over it girl. What do you think this is…some kind of great romance novel?
“Mason.”
Oh my, the sparkling conversation was going to be the death of her. She just hoped his talents lay in…other directions. Her mind hit the gutter level as she wondered what all those tight muscles under his T-shirt felt like. She sighed, and tried to get her raging libido under control.
“Pleased to meet you, Mason. I’m Andy. You’re not part-siren by any chance, are you?”
He recoiled, disgust written over his features. “I’m not part anything. I’m human through and through.”
Andy kept her skepticism to herself. There was something about him—she just couldn’t put her finger on it.
“So…Andy. How about you? You going to drop the charade, or pick up the silver so we can see what you really are? I warn you though, Old Fred behind you is a crack shot with that sawn-off.”
Amusement rolled through her as she took her glasses off, and placed them precisely on the table in front of her. If Fred was going to shoot her in the back, then she’d rather not be wearing them. Good sunglasses were damn hard to find these days.
“A little unsporting, wouldn’t you say? What happens if I pick the silver up, and nothing happens? Do I pass all your tests?”
His gaze hardened. “What makes you think you passed them all?”
A chuckle of amusement escaped her lips. She hadn’t had this much fun in years. “Let me see… Ash-wood in the door to bar witches…wouldn’t stop a warlock or a sorcerer though. The door-step has an iron strip, and you’d be hard pressed to find a real living horse this far out so those…” she nodded to the horseshoes behind the bar. “…are definitely imports.