"Alfred?" I cal ed again, just as he emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on his pants. His cheeks were red and his eyes were bloodshot.
"Stefan. Violet's bloke. I s'pose now you decided you're done with her? We don't do refunds," he said flatly, leaning his meaty arms against the bar.
"She's a friend," I said. I stepped toward him, making sure to keep eye contact, and keeping my fingers and palms flexed to avoid lashing out. I hated him. "And I have something I need to discuss."
"What?" he asked suspiciously.
"Take Violet back," I said level y. "She's a hard worker, and she needs her job and room." Alfred nodded, but didn't open his mouth to speak.
"Just like her sister. Takes off with the first man who looks at her nicely. Bloody fools if you ask me. Mary Ann, now she was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but Violet . . ."
"Wil you do that?" I prompted. I wanted to fol ow his conversational thread, but I couldn't stop in the middle of compel ing. In the past twenty-four hours, I'd compel ed more than I had in the past twenty years, and I wasn't as confident in my Power as I used to be. "And when you do, you won't lay a hand on her. You'l protect her. Just bring Violet back."
"Bring Violet back," he said slowly, as if in a trance.
"Yes," I said, relieved by the confirmation.
Just then, the bel of the tavern tinkled and a large man lurched in, clearly stil drunk from the night before. Alfred looked up at the commotion, breaking the spel and ruining my chance to ask questions: What man had Cora gone off with? And what else did Alfred know?
"You'l see Violet tomorrow night," I said to Alfred's retreating back, as though we were just having a chat. I pul ed up a stool to the bar, waiting for when he'd be free. The door opened again and a woman sauntered in, wearing an indigo dress that clearly showed the expansive whiteness of her bosom. I recognized her as the woman who'd come up to me last night. This time, I was glad to speak with her. She had a large beauty mark above her red-painted lips, and her hair hung in bright blond ringlets under a black-feather-adorned hat. She was short and squat, but carried herself with the confidence of a woman far more beautiful.
Immediately, her beady eyes locked on mine. "Hel o, there," she said, walking unsteadily up to me. "Me name's Eliza." She held out her hand for me to kiss.
I recoiled. Even though I'd just fed, the thin squirrel blood was not enough to satisfy my deeper thirst, and her exposed flesh was almost more than I could bear. I could smel her blood and could almost imagine its rich, sugar-sweet flavor coating my tongue. I pressed my lips together and stared at the dusty cracks between the floorboards.
"I tried to talk to you last night," she continued, al owing her hand to flutter to my shoulder as though dusting off an imaginary speck of lint. "But you only had eyes for that girl. I thought she was so lucky, speaking with a handsome young lad like you. I hope you enjoyed her," she leered.
"I didn't. " I stepped away, hating her insinuation. "Violet is just a friend," I said coldly.
"Wel , do you need someone who's more than a friend?" she asked, batting her dark eyelashes.
"No! I need to know . . ." I glanced toward Alfred, but he was far down at the other end of the bar, busy playing a game of dice with the drunk man. Stil , I lowered my voice. "I need to know more about the murderer."
"You one of them coppers?" she asked suspiciously. "Because I told 'em before, I don't do discounts and I don't give out information on me friends neither. Not for al the gin in China."
I shook my head at her mangled expression. "I'm just concerned. Especial y now. Apparently another woman is missing. Do you know Cora?
She works here." For Violet's sake, I only hoped that Cora was alive.
"Cora?" The woman's face transformed into a grimace. "Why, she was the barmaid, right? Always thought she was so uppity and better than us, but Lord knows she was doing the same thing we was. Seems like she was just waiting for the right price," the woman said indignantly.
"Do you mean she left with a man?" I asked urgently. It was clear that this woman had been keeping a very close eye on Cora, and I hoped that would translate into a clue as to her whereabouts.
The woman nodded. "The same man who I'd been trying al night to be sweet on me. He was handsome. Said he was a producer or an actor at the Gaiety. One of them theater types. Funny sounding, though. A bit like you," she added uncertainly.
"He had an accent?" I asked, unable to contain my excitement. I didn't want to jump to conclusions, but I doubted there were many frequenters of the Ten Bel s who had a Southern drawl like mine. Maybe Damon had been here. And maybe, just maybe, he knew I was in town. Maybe that was why the message had been written on the wal . It hadn't been Klaus at al , only one of Damon's stupid traps to lure me into a cat-and-mouse chase.
"You got me going al hoarse. If we're going to talk any more, you've got to get me a drink," Eliza said, yanking me from my reverie. "Double gin, please," she said, her eyes gleaming greedily.
"Of course," I said. I went to the bar and came back with a gin and a whiskey. I licked my lips as I watched Eliza take a swig. I took a careful sip of my own drink. Although I didn't want to get drunk, alcohol occasional y tempered my cravings for blood. I hoped it would this time. I needed something to distract me from Eliza's neck. I took another large gulp of whiskey.
"There, that's better. Nothing beats a spot of gin in the afternoon, don't you agree, love?" she asked, already appearing in a much better mood.