“You can take him!” Ray whispered in my ear.
“Damn straight.”
The next thing I remember, Ray was fishing me out from under the table. Or at least he was trying to, but Scarface’s foot was in the way. “On. Her. Ass,” Scarface said proudly.
“She just slipped,” Ray said, sounding frantic. “Anybody could slip. She’s fine!”
“Like hell she’s fine. Look at her!”
“I am,” someone said, from somewhere behind us. “Would you care to explain to me what is wrong with her?”
Scarface slowly straightened, his foot sliding off Ray’s wrist. Ray seized the opportunity to drag me upright. “I love you, man,” I told him blearily, catching one of his hands.
“God. Just. Shut. Up,” he muttered.
The room appeared to be spinning anyway, so I followed it around to where a handsome auburn-haired vamp was standing by the main entrance. He had a sword in either hand and appeared miffed. Louis-Cesare, my brain supplied helpfully, after a minute. I was pleased to see him, although I couldn’t exactly recall why. But I sent him a sloppy smile anyway.
“She has not been injured,” Scarface said, stepping away from the table to give himself room to maneuver. And as soon as he did, his boss slowly slipped off his seat and into a well-dressed lump on the floor.
“On his ass! On his ass!” Ray said, letting go of me to point.
“So is she,” Scarface hissed, as I flopped facefirst onto concrete. “And she was first.”
“Only because you were holding him up! You were cheating!”
“No, this would be cheating,” Scarface said, and smashed a bottle upside Ray’s head.
And then things got a little confusing.
Scarface lunged at Ray, who stumbled back, squeaking. But he tripped over me and slammed into the case of fey wine, crushing it beneath him. Thanks God for large favors, I thought fervently.
And then I remembered why I was happy to see Louis-Cesare.
“Love you!” I yelled encouragingly, which caused him to start suddenly. Then, for some reason, he scowled. And then the sprinkler system got turned on, although that might have been later, because when I looked around, I was by the bar.
Someone was trying to pound the butt of a shotgun through my skull. So I yanked it out of his grasp and brought it down on his kneecaps. He screamed in pain and grabbed for the weapon, we struggled, and it went off, blowing a hole the size of a basketball through the fake wood paneling separating the club from the bar.
We both stared at it for a second before he grabbed for me—at the same time that another vamp brought a club down, trying to crush my hand. I rolled out of the way and he hit his buddy’s instead, with a crunching sound that indicated a broken bone or three. The first vamp screamed again and reflexively kicked out, knocking his buddy back into a nest of bar stools. The stools scattered, the vamp fell backward, and my hand closed on one of my guns.
I didn’t even try to aim, since I was the only one there who could be killed by a stray bullet. I just sprayed them everywhere. I don’t think too many connected, but it distracted my attackers long enough for me to reach the hole in the wall. One of Ray’s boys looked through at me, his bright black eyes wide.
“Scotch?” I asked as a chair was slung across the room at my head. I ducked and the bartender handed me a bottle, just as the chair tosser lunged at me. I broke it over his head, staggering him. “A light?” My lighter was in my jeans, and no way was I coordinated enough to get it out.
I was passed another matchbook embossed with the bar’s logo, and a second later, the vamp went up in flames. He could have stopped, dropped, and rolled them out, but most vamps aren’t that levelheaded about fire. This one proved to be no exception. He panicked and crashed into his buddy, and they fell to the floor, screaming Cantonese invective at each other.
I looked around for the next threat, but all I saw was Louis-Cesare standing over a pile of vamps, none of which appeared to be in proper working order. It would have been cause for celebration, if it hadn’t been for the boots hitting the street outside. Deciding to get out before Cheung’s reinforcements ruined the odds again, I tossed a potion grenade at the front door and jumped out the side.
Louis-Cesare was right behind me. We landed hard in front of the puddle of water that spanned most of the alley. It reflected the explosion in the club behind us, flames shooting upside down, livid and wavering, until a screaming mass of panicked vamps came pouring out of the door. They scattered in all directions, some splashing through the water and turning it into a rippling mass of flame.
One of the last to emerge was Scarface, with the boss draped inelegantly over one shoulder. “You.” He pointed at me. I blinked at him. “Later.”
I nodded and waved him off as Ray came scooting out the door, the seat of his pants smoking. “Now who owes who?” I demanded as he hightailed it down the alley. He paused at the corner to shoot me the bird, before disappearing in the opposite direction from Cheung’s vamps.
“He’ll be okay,” I told Louis-Cesare. “He’ll run straight to the senate, and now that they know there’s a danger, they’ll have to—”
Somebody started shaking me, which was not a good idea under the circumstances. “Don’ do that,” I said, grabbing hold of Louis-Cesare’s jacket.
“You’re drunk,” he accused. But he did stop shaking me.
I pondered that for a moment. It was undeniably true. And then I remembered that there were extenuating circumstances, some of which involved him. “Well, you were late.”
“I was in Brooklyn!”
“You went to see me?” I grinned happily. And then stopped, wondering if he’d had some other reason for making the trip. It wasn’t like we had a Thing. Not an official Thing, anyway. He didn’t
“I just wanted a quiet drink,” I said defensively. That and I’d been going crazy with boredom.
“It appears that you found one,” he said drily.
“Well, I don’t know how quiet it was—” I broke off, because something in his expression was wrong. It took me a moment, but I finally sorted through exasperation, fondness, and relief to something that looked like hurt. And that didn’t make sense.
“We won,” I said distinctly. “At least, I think so.…” I looked around. The alley was quiet again, except for the crackling fire and the distant sound of sirens.
“Yes, we won,” he affirmed.
I looked back up at him, fuzzily. “So why the long face?”
He took a deep breath. “I was hoping that the first time you expressed affection for me, it would not be in a room full of strangers. And that you would not have just said it to a sniveling creature like that Raymond!”
“I expressed affection for Ray?”
“Yes!”
“Man, I really must be drunk.” Louis-Cesare just looked at me. I blinked politely back, until I realized that he expected a response. “Uh. Sorry?”
“Isn’t there anything else you wish to say to me?” he asked impatiently.
I swallowed. “Yes. Yes there is.”
Warm arms suddenly engulfed me, pulling me in, and one large hand tucked my head into his chest. “What is it?” he asked softly.
“I’m about to yak all over your shirt.”
Vampire reflexes got me to the side of the road instead, and then he crouched there, brushing my hair away from my sweaty cheeks as I made good on the first part of my threat. He sighed. “One day, you will say it to me again. You will be sober. And you will mean it.”
I was actually terrified that I already meant it. A guy just might be a keeper if he hears your cry for help in his head. And comes into a den of thieves to get you out. And then holds your hair while you throw up for ten minutes.
