She poured out a glass of orange juice before she looked up at me. “The delivery service.”
I frowned. “Yeah, I got that. But where do they get it from?”
“Donors, mostly. People paid to give over their blood. It’s quite the little business.
Competitive too, since there’re a few delivery services around.”
“There are that many donors in Toronto?”
“A lot of it comes from the States,” George chimed in. “The expensive, extra-tasty blood is imported from Europe. When supplies run low, there’s always the synthetic version, but that tastes a bit, well, synthetic. Or, even worse”—he made a face—“animal blood. Yech.”
I tried to keep the disgust off my face. “Well, that sounds pleasant.”
“You asked.” George shrugged. “Where’s the boss? I wanted to ask him about a raise, and since Ralph’s not around anymore, this might be a good time to emphasize how much he needs me.”
“He’s out,” I told him. “Should be back soon. I need to talk to him, too. Badly.”
He eyed me. “Honey, you just started. I get the raise first, okay?”
I was about to explain that I wouldn’t be competing for a few extra bucks, but decided it wasn’t worth the effort. “Sure. Whatever.”
Zelda slapped the drinks down on a round tray for me. “Take these out. Tell Timothy to drink them and get out of here before Thierry gets back.”
I swallowed. “I don’t know if I feel comfortable doing that.”
She blinked at me. “Have you ever seen Thierry when he gets mad?”
“You don’t call him master, huh?”
“I’m too old to call anybody master. Answer the question. Have you seen him mad?”
I thought back to how he’d reacted last night when I’d mentioned his suicide attempt. The flash of fury and violence that went through his silver eyes. My arms were suddenly covered with goose bumps. “Does he go all green and scary like the Hulk?”
“Worse,” George said.
I grabbed the drinks and went back over to table twelve. I didn’t want to be rude, but God knew I was capable of it. In fact, I was quite good at it. I guess that was one tip that night I wouldn’t be able to count on.
“Timothy, right?” I said as I handed him the drink.
He smiled at me. “That’s right. You’re new around here, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. I’m Sarah.”
The girlfriend made an unhappy sound in her throat.
Take it easy, sweetheart , I thought. Not trying to move in on your man.
I placed the vodka in front of her. “Consider these drinks on the house, okay?”
“Really?” Timothy looked surprised. “Thanks a lot. What’s the occasion?”
“Your getting the hell out of here as soon as you chug them back.”
“Pardon me?”
“Who the hell do you think you are?” the girlfriend snapped.
I shifted the drink tray to my other arm. “I’m the gal standing between the two of you getting physically booted out of here. You guys were told not to come here anymore.”
“It’s a free country.” Timothy’s voice rose a level.
“Maybe out there.” I nodded toward the door. “In here you have to follow the rules.”
“You bitch,” the girlfriend spat at me.
I turned to her. “Listen, metal head, I don’t want any trouble. Believe me, I’ve had enough trouble today to last me a good long time. So drink your drinks and get the hell out of here.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Bite me.”
“Yeah.” I smirked at her. “I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
That comment earned me the vodka, straight up, thrown wetly right in my face. I wiped my eyes and just knew that my painstakingly applied eye makeup was running.
“You did not just throw a drink in my face.”
We’d gotten the attention of the other vampires in our area of the club. I tried to ignore their curious gazes.
She got up from the table and stood her ground defiantly. “You’re not kicking us out of here. We’re staying.”
“Melanie—” Timothy’s voice held an edge of warning.
“Come on,” Melanie said to me, “just try to throw me out, you bloodsucking bitch.”
She went down with only one punch. I hadn’t even planned on throwing it. My fist acted of its own accord. It was the vodka that made me do it—the vodka currently dripping down my chin.
“Sarah.”
The word froze me in place. It wasn’t said with menace or threat, it was quite calm. Too calm. I tried to dry my face off with the corner of my sleeve before turning around.
Thierry stood six feet behind me with his arms crossed.
I shrugged. “She was asking for it.”
He didn’t reply. He looked down at the girl and then his gaze trailed over to Timothy, whose face had paled considerably.
“I…” Timothy began. “I’m sorry, master. She wanted to come here. I know I should have said no, but—”