Barkley took a step forward and—Quinn frowned—he threw his duffel bag at the men. Then he turned and began running very fast after Quinn's car.
What the hell?
Quinn turned to look over his shoulder. Yes, Barkley was running after him and wildly flailing his arms with a distinctly panicked expression on his face. Two of the men who'd come out to greet him began to pursue the fleeing werewolf, and they didn't look friendly.
Some welcoming committee.
He applied pressure to the brakes and pressed the button to roll down the passenger window. Barkley thundered up beside the car after a moment, breathing hard.
"Problem?" Quinn asked.
Barkley looked behind him, yelped, and then yanked open the door so he could throw himself inside the car. "Drive!" he yelled. "Just drive!"
Quinn slammed his foot down on the accelerator and drove. After a minute, the large men running after them became no more than pissed-off specks in the distance.
Quinn turned to Barkley and raised his eyebrow. "Facing your destiny not all it's cracked up to be?"
"They were going to kill me," Barkley panted. "Right there. They weren't even going to let me fight
Brutus."
"Why?"
"I don't know. I… I think they thought I was dead already. Maybe I should have called first and let them know I was coming back."
"But that doesn't explain why they want you dead."
He shook his head. "Dude, all I saw were silver knives and I ran. Those guys were Brutus's men. I'm not going back there." He let out a long breath. "I guess you're stuck with me for a while longer."
Quinn kept his eyes on the road. "So now what?"
Barkley leaned back in the seat until his breathing slowed down to normal. "Now I guess I'll come with you to see your friend. You don't mind my company for a bit longer, do you?"
"Uh. I don't think that's a very good idea."
"Sure it is. Listen, let's stop for something to eat first. Running for my life works up an appetite. If I remember correctly, there's a roadside diner about ten minutes west of here that serves the best hamburger in the state. You hungry?"
"I don't eat."
"Oh, yeah." He frowned. "You know, I haven't seen you drink any blood lately, either. Do you do it in private? Like a secret Twinkie obsession? You can drink in front of me if you want to. It doesn't gross me out."
Quinn glanced at him sideways. "I haven't… drunk anything for a few days. The thought of drinking blood makes me sick."
"I did think you were starting to look a little gaunt. So, what are you? Like, a vampire anorexic, or something?"
"I will drink when I have to, but not before."
"Okay, okay. You do what you have to do. But can we stop for lunch so I can eat something?"
Quinn clenched his jaw and stared at the road ahead. Fine. They'd stop at the diner, and as soon as he was sure that Barkley was safe from his old friends, he'd take off. He'd leave some money so the werewolf could get a lift with somebody else.
He felt a twist of guilt in his gut but knew he couldn't back down now. It had to be done, and the sooner the better.
The Stardust Diner, as the sign read when they arrived, would be the last stop on the Quinn and Barkley phase of his quest for the Eye.
"The Stardust Diner? You're sure this is the right place?"
Janie showed her partner, Lenny, the piece of paper the Boss had given her for, like, the eightieth time that day as they pulled up alongside the restaurant.
"Stardust," Lenny said it again. "Like the Frank Sinatra song. I love that song."
Lenny was six-foot-five and built like a linebacker. His hair was cut so short his scalp could be seen through the dark stubble, and he had a crooked nose that had been broken multiple times in his life. He wore a black leather jacket and Doc Marten boots, and he could scare little children with one look.
He also had the soul of a poet. A bad poet.
And unfortunately, he had a massive crush (unrequited) on Janie and wrote a great deal of that bad poetry about her.
They'd been working together for almost a year. She'd recently requested a change in partners, but the
Company took its own sweet time when it came to things like that.
She turned around in the black Mustang convertible to check the back seat.
Five wooden stakes. Check.
Two silver daggers. Check.
Stun gun. Check.
Gun with garlic darts that worked as a tranquilizer to temporarily knock out any unsuspecting vamps.
Check.
Her favorite gun—a sturdy and reliable Firestar with silver bullets for the werewolf companion. Check.
She decided to carry the gun with silver bullets. The bullets would work on vamp or werewolf. She turned around to grab it and put it in the shoulder holster under her new navy blue Anne Klein jacket and added two wooden stakes and the stun gun to her designer handbag arsenal, just in case. As a last thought, she added the gun withtranq darts. It would weigh her down a bit, but a girl could never be well armed enough when it came to fighting monsters.
"How will we know who they are?" Lenny asked, scanning the area of the diner.
It was a good question. The Stardust Diner was a busy location, right next to the heavily traveled highway. A good place to grab lunch or take a bathroom break while on the way to one's final destination. Vamps and weres could easily blend in with regular humans, and the Boss hadn't given her a heads-up on their appearance.
It was noon. She knew that sunlight didn't bother vamps, contrary to the popular myth. Most could go out at any time of the day or night. Usually they were a little weaker during daylight hours and also quite sun sensitive, so they could typically be spotted wearing sunglasses even on an overcast day. But today the sun was blazing bright in the sky and everyone in the area wore sunglasses. No help there.
Vampires definitely didn't have reflections. That might be a clue. The diner was surrounded by windows that reflected the surroundings.
She twisted her turquoise necklace until her fingers felt numb. "Just watch for anything out of the ordinary."