“Wonderful,” I said sarcastically. “Where’s Thierry?”
“I don’t know, but he wanted me to give you this.” Zelda grabbed my hand and placed a large, heavy silver gun with a black handle in it. A gun! I’d never even held one before.
“What the hell is this for?” I sputtered.
“For protection.”
“What do I look like? Dirty Harry?”
She walked wearily behind the bar, poured herself a shot of blood from what looked to be her personal flask, and drank it down. “I like you, Sarah. I really do. But you’re the one who brought him here and then left. It’s your turn to deal with him now. I’ve had it.”
She grabbed her blue cloth coat from behind the bar, threw it over her shoulders, and left the club through the back door.
I swallowed heavily. Oh well, at least George was still there for support.
“I’m gonna take off, too,” George said as he poked his head through the door, cigarette dangling from his lips.
I ran to the door before it closed and grabbed him by his nearly see-through white shirt and pulled him roughly back inside.
“Oh, no, you’re not.” I shook him by his shoulders. “You’re not leaving me here all alone.”
The cigarette was knocked from his lips and pinged off my thigh to the floor.
He blinked. “You’re kind of sexy when you’re all dominant and stuff.”
“Does that mean you’re going to stay?”
“Will you beat me up if I don’t?” He grinned at me.
“Probably.”
“Ooo.”
Behind us there was a loud banging coming from Thierry’s office. Gee, I wonder who that was?
“Sarah!” Quinn’s voice was hoarse as if he’d been yelling all night long. “Let me out of here right now!”
I turned back to George. “Why hasn’t he just busted out of there by now?”
“Reinforced door. It’s stronger than it looks. Kind of like you.”
“George, compliments will get you anywhere,” I said. “Too bad about the gay thing.”
I held the gun at my side like I’d seen cops do on television and walked toward the office.
I knocked lightly.
“Quinn?”
The replying bang sounded like Quinn had thrown his entire body at the door, shoulder first. “Let me the hell out of here!”
“Okay, you realize that probably isn’t going to happen, right?”
“Let me out now!”
I glanced at George, then back at the door. “Did you go deaf when you got bitten? Listen, nobody trusts you, especially me. If we let you out of there, you’ll tell your friends and then we’ll all be dead.”
It made a lot more sense to me now in the harsh light of day. Maybe I’d made a huge mistake by bringing Quinn back to the club. Uh, maybe! Okay, I’d definitely made a mistake, I’ll admit it. I didn’t deal well with violence, death, and other nasty things. In fact, I normally didn’t have to deal with those things at all. I guess my brain shut off its common sense part last night and I’d been running on pure stupidity. Didn’t make me a bad vampire, it just made me more likely to get dead.
But Quinn was my responsibility now, whether I liked it or not.
“Okay, Quinn, why don’t you take one huge chill pill? I want to talk to you, face-to-face.”
I waited for a response, but there was nothing.
“Just so you know,” I continued, trying to sound as strong and confident as the commercials for my underarm deodorant said I should feel, “I have a gun. A big one. I’ve used it before, and I don’t have a problem putting a big, gaping hole through your sorry ass if you give me any problems.” I glanced at George. He nodded with approval and even gave me a big thumbs-up. Again I waited for a response from Quinn. Finally he said, “Fine. Come on in and we’ll have a nice chat.”
Why was I finding his sincerity so hard to swallow? Oh, it could be because of the extremely insincere tone of his voice. I clutched the gun tighter. It was starting to get heavy.
“It’s an automatic,” George whispered. “All you have to do is point and shoot.”
“Just like a camera,” I said. “Listen, George, if things go wrong in there, can you tell Thierry that I’m sorry for calling him an asshole last night?”
His eyes widened. “You called him an asshole? You are so my hero.”
I shrugged, then turned back toward the office. “Okay, Quinn,” I said louder. “Move away from the door.” Then added, “Or else.”
George slipped a key into the lock and turned it. I tensed, ready to aim quickly. I’d shoot for the legs if I had to. Could bullets kill vampires? I didn’t know for sure, although it was probably a safe bet that they’d hurt like hell. I turned the knob and pushed the door open a fraction so I could peer inside. Quinn was now seated on the sofa, his hands clasped, head lowered. It looked like he was praying. I took a step inside and George quickly closed the door behind me. I heard the lock click and my stomach sank. Thanks a lot, I thought. Throw me in with the lions, why don’t you?
Quinn raised his head slowly, until he was staring directly into my eyes. “So here we are,” he said drily. “Let’s talk.”
“How are you doing?”
“Great. Just great.”
He stared at the gun. I raised it higher so it was pointed directly at him.
“Why do I find it hard to believe that you’ve ever fired a gun before?” he asked.
“Because you’re a male chauvinist?”
“You don’t need it. I’m not going to try anything.”
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I believe you? You’ve been so friendly before this.”
He looked around. “Can I get out of here?”