“We’ll make sure. One way or another, they get some sort of jail time. I don’t care how we have to write up the charges. And remember: all of us at the FH-CSI fully believe they committed twenty-three . . . if not more . . . murders today, regardless of what the courts say about vampire rights. So . . . we’ll jump through every hoop we have to.” He paused.
Then, smiling at me through those gentle blue eyes, he reached out and gently laid a hand on my shoulder. “We’re here to stop this stuff from happening. And when we can’t, we’re here to clean up the mess. Not everything at the station goes on in plain sight. Remember that.” And with that cryptic but oddly comforting remark, he left.
We closed early, paying for all drinks because of the trauma my customers went through. After picking up the bar, I slumped down at one of the tables. Delilah and the guys had gone home, and Roman was sending over a couple of guards to watch over the bar till daybreak, when three of the Supe Militia would come down to stand guard.
Derrick, clutching a club soda, slipped into the chair next to me. He shoved a bottle of blood across the table. “You should drink something.”
I stared at it, then moodily pulled it toward me, drinking deep. It wasn’t as good as fresh, nor as tasty as the flavored blood Morio enchanted for me, but it was nourishment, and right now I needed it to take the edge off.
“Is it worth it, Derrick? First my bar gets torched and burned to the ground, killing eight people, including a friend. Now, we’re being attacked by hate groups. Should I fold up? Say screw it, and sell the joint?” I cocked my head, gazing steadily at the werebadger.
He was a sturdy man, not tall—not short, with a streak of white through his dark hair, and a few scars that marred his face. He shrugged, his T-shirt rising and falling with his shoulders. “That is only something you can answer. But let me ask you this, boss. Have you ever run away from anything in your life? And what about the portal in the basement? You can’t really let that fall into somebody else’s hands.”
I mulled over the question. “Once . . . yes. I ran away from my old sire, Dredge. I ran all the way here to Earthside.”
“And he found you.”
“Yeah, he did.”
“So you had to face him, even though you tried your best to get away?” The corners of his lips tilted up just a little.
I wrinkled my nose. “I hate it when you’re right.”
Exasperated, yet knowing he was only pointing out the obvious, I leaned back in my chair and slowly slid my bottle back and forth on the table.
“I know you’re right. If I sold the Wayfarer, I’d never forgive myself. For one thing, I love this place. I don’t care if it’s just one bar in the middle of a city full of them—it’s my bar. I built it into what it is today. When I first arrived here, I was undercover as bartender. The OIA still owned this joint and they didn’t give a damn about it, as long as they could control the portal in the basement. But now it’s mine. I didn’t buy it because of the portal. I didn’t buy it to get rich. I bought the place because . . .” I paused, not quite sure what I was trying to say.
“Because it spoke to you.” Derrick’s voice was soft. “Because when you thought of walking away, it felt like you’d be leaving an old friend behind.”
Nodding, I took a swig of the blood. It raced down my throat, warm and comforting. Derrick had warmed it to just the right temperature.
“I had no clue what we were in for when we came over here. None of us did. But now . . . we’re all in. That’s the thing—we’re all in and we can’t turn away. And I can’t turn my back on the Wayfarer. This place owns a piece of my heart.”
Derrick finished his club soda. “I know what you mean. In the time I’ve worked here, I’ve come to care about the bar in a way I didn’t expect to. I’ve worked in a lot of places, Menolly. I’ve done a good job most times . . . sometimes had a few problems. But I’ve never looked forward to coming to work like I do here. I’ve got your back, you know? I’m here to watch over the bar when you can’t. I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t feel I ever let you down.”
With that, he pushed himself to his feet. “Go home, boss. Take the night off. Try to relax. I’ll stay till the guards get here—in fact, I think they’re at the door now.” He nodded to two shadowy figures standing outside the door. Sure enough, even from here I could tell they were vamps. “Go on. Rest easy. I’ll see you tomorrow night, if all goes well. If not, just drop me a note and I’ll watch over your baby.”
I swung out of my chair and, taking the werebadger by surprise, gave him a firm hug. “You be careful. We need you here. I need you here.” And with that, I headed for home.
*
I arrived home just in time to find Trenyth speaking to the others through the Whispering Mirror. Delilah motioned me over.
“We got home just as he called. Trenyth has news . . .” She looked mildly alarmed.