“It’s a yes, you’re impossible. Other than that, I’m not promising anything.”
“You know we’re perfect for each other, Sarah.”
“I can’t believe you want to discuss this right now after everything that’s happened. This is so not a good time.”
He smiled at me. “I like the fact that you’re not turning me down flat. I guess I just don’t understand what your objection is to the two of us getting together.”
“Did I mention that you’re due for a serious ass kicking?”
His smile widened at that. “That sounds like it might have interesting possibilities.”
I made a frustrated noise loud enough to be heard over the music. “You tried to kill me, dumb-ass. Twice.”
“And now all I want to do is kiss you. Just give me one reason why we shouldn’t be together.”
He was nuts. And this was such a bad time for this discussion. I turned away from him because my face was growing warm. My gaze moved over the dozens of vampires enjoying the night out, drinking with their friends, families, lovers—despite the lousy service tonight. My gaze finally reached Thierry’s booth.
He was leaning against it, staring directly at me.
“Thierry.” I let out a long sigh of relief and immediately began walking toward him.
“Oh, right,” I heard Quinn say dully. “That’s the reason why.”
I got closer to Thierry, pushing my way past the club-goers until I was finally standing right in front of him.
“Sarah.” His lips moved slowly into a half smile. “Good to see you.” His silver-eyed gaze turned toward Quinn, who had swallowed his hurt pride enough to stay by my side. “I see that you’ve brought a date tonight.”
My mouth opened to deny it, but I closed it. There were more important and urgent things to discuss than petty jealousies. Was he jealous? No, I couldn’t think about that right now. I couldn’t get distracted, but he was so distracting. And now I knew that he hadn’t killed Quinn’s mother. So did Quinn, but it didn’t keep the loathing from radiating off him in waves.
“You have to get out of here,” I told him.
“It is my club,” he replied. “Why should I go anywhere?”
“You have to. It’s not safe.”
He studied me for a moment, then motioned for the two of us to sit down. I slid into the booth despite my brain screaming at me to tell him everything as quickly as possible. I just didn’t know where to begin.
“It is not safe anywhere, Sarah. That doesn’t mean that we should hide ourselves away like cowards.”
I cocked my head to one side at his words. They sounded awfully familiar.
He smiled at me. “Yes, Veronique told me about your little ‘girls’ night out’ She fears that she may have scared you away, or made you think less of me, as you left without saying anything to her. I know she told you stories of my earlier days. I now realize why you were acting so odd earlier.”
“I didn’t believe her.”
Quinn remained silent beside me, hands folded in front of him on the table, saying nothing.
“Why not? After all, she was telling the truth, but that was a long time ago. And you needn’t think I’m the same man today I was then.”
“I needn’t. I mean, I don’t.”
“Then why do you ask me to hide like a child afraid of a thunderstorm?”
I was about to let it all spill out of my mouth. Tell him that I’d been terrible, sold him out, and now the hunters were after him. In other words, the truth. But Quinn beat me to it.
“It’s all my fault,” Quinn said. “The hunters now know where this place is, and they’re after you in particular. I sold them the information to buy the cure for me. For me and Sarah. I wanted us to be human again.”
Thierry studied him for a moment. I half expected him to kill Quinn where he sat, or at the very least to scream at him, threaten his life. But he was calm, stoic, like a statue.
“There is no cure.”
“We know,” Quinn said. “Now we do, anyhow. But it’s too late. They tricked us, and now you have to get out of here.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“But, Thierry,” I heard the hard edge of panic in my voice, “you have to. They’re going to kill you.”
His eyes slowly tracked to mine, where they held for a moment. “Yes, they will.”
I shook my head. “You don’t care?”
“No, I don’t. As you well know, Sarah, it is a time long overdue. If I am to die tonight at the hands of the hunters, then I will accept my destiny. It is fate. I am not afraid.”
His voice sounded so loud suddenly, or maybe it was just his words, hopeless and despondent. I wanted to slap him hard across the face. Make him wake the hell up. There was no reason for him to die tonight. No damn reason at all. I could hear my heart pounding, the blood rushing through my ears. Everything seemed louder suddenly. But why? No. It wasn’t just me. The club was silent. The music had stopped playing. Conversation had halted throughout the smoky room. I looked over at the band. The dark-haired singer clutched the microphone on the stand in front of her, standing there, unmoving, unsinging. There was an odd look on her face. Surprise? Shock? But before I could figure it out, her expression faded, and a large red stain spread across the front of her white blouse. And then she fell—it seemed to take forever—face forward off the stage.
Peter stood behind her, holding a bloody stake in his right hand. He grabbed the wobbling microphone and pulled it close to his mouth and raised an eyebrow. The one that wasn’t covered by the patch.
“Is there a Sarah Dearly in the audience tonight?” he said, loud and clear. “If there is, could she please come up to the stage?”
The silence in the club was deafening. I slumped down in my seat. How did Peter know I was even there, or was he just guessing? Hoping I was there so he finally could exact his revenge on me for what I’d done to his eye. Thierry made a move to stand, but my hand darted out to catch his wrist. I squeezed it as tightly as I could.
“Sit down,” I hissed across the table. “Please!”
He met my gaze and shook his head. He placed his other hand on top of mine and pried my grip off him. He stood up and turned to face the stage.
“Leave this club. You’re not welcome here.”
“You’re not Sarah,” Peter said but then smiled. “But I’m betting that you’re this Thierry dude, right?”
“That is correct. My name is Thierry de Bennicoeur.”
“Pretty faggy name, man. I hate the French. Don’t worry; we’ll get to you in a minute.
The boys and I got all night for this. Now, where are you hiding that bitch? Give her up and maybe I’ll let a few of you live.”
There were several other rough-looking guys flanking Peter. I recognized a couple of them from the night I was sired, and a few more were from the pub across the street. The others I’d never seen before. But they all looked out to the audience of frozen vampires like lions who had their pick of weak, helpless prey. I felt the press of a warm body join me and Quinn on my side of the booth. It was George.