"Not yet."
I began pacing to the bar and then back again. "She's a murderer, you know. She told me.
She didn't kill the people herself. But the curses she put on people have led to their deaths.
I think that's what she wants to do with me." I let out a shuddery breath. Weird that I still needed to breathe with a heart that didn't beat. Didn't all of that work together? I got a C in biology but some things are quite obviously not natural.
"I won't let that happen," Thierry said, and there was a strange fierce tone to his words.
He exhaled deeply. "I do have a suggestion."
"What?"
"Your friend, the other witch from the reunion. We must call her and have her come here.
Perhaps she can help us find Stacy. And when we find her, we will visit her personally."
Of course! I nodded quickly, ran to grab my purse, which currently had taken up residence behind the bar, and happily found the contact info Claire had given me. Without saying anything else I went to the phone and pecked in the numbers.
Claire answered on the sixth ring. My heart beat once in happiness.
I quickly explained the situation and gave her directions to Haven.
"Of course I'll come, Sarah," Claire said. "How exciting! I'll do a location spell. We'll find her. I'll be there in about two hours, okay?"
While I didn't agree with her assessment of the situation as "exciting," I did appreciate her willingness to come to assist with my problem.
I hung up the phone feeling nine parts hopeless and one part hopeful, but that one part was beginning to gain strength again, all things considered. Hope was a surprisingly durable emotion.
George approached me and patted me on the back. "I read your horoscope today. You do know that Scorpios are prone to lead exciting lives with loads of drama, right? Obviously everything is very normal. I believe your Mercury is also in retrograde. Or something like that. Not so sure what that means."
I sighed. "My Mercury has been in retrograde for so long I think it's still wearing bell bottoms."
He held out his arms. "Somebody needs a hug?"
I eyed him warily. "Since when have you become Mr. Touchy-Feely?"
"Ever since my last relationship ended. I'm all needy now. Humor me."
I glanced at Thierry, shook my head, and gave George a hug.
"I brought you a change of clothes," he told me. "I thought the new black jeans and smiley-face tank top would be a nice look. Put a positive fashion spin on this whole situation."
I clung to him. "Thank you."
George patted my back. "Feeling better?"
"Not really."
"Why not?"
I swallowed hard and dug my fingers into his shoulder blades. "In about five seconds I'm going to bite you. And I won't be able to control it. I suggest you step away."
He released me as if I had just sprouted sharp spikes.
I was breathing hard and the hunger welled within me like a living, breathing thing. I knew my eyes had gone from normal to black in no time flat because I saw the world differently.
Like a predator looking for her next meal. And the predator saw two worthy candidates to munch on at the moment.
"I need blood and I need it right now," I managed, even though I could barely speak past the fangs.
And I got the blood. From a keg. As much as I needed, which was good, because as sickening as it was to admit it, I needed a lot.
Not a good or safe way to feel right after one has just woken up…
Undead and unfed.
I thought Claire would have her fiancé with her when she arrived. Even though humans weren't allowed in Haven, I was sure that Thierry would make an exception this one time.
But instead she brought a small dog, which looked more like a mangy mutt than any specific breed, on a harness leash.
He also wore a muzzle.
I nodded at the dog. "Is he friendly?"
She glanced at the dog. The dog glanced up at her. "Too friendly sometimes. Especially when checking out cute waitresses in Red Lobster."
"What's his name?"
"Reggie."
I frowned. "Isn't that your fiancé's name, too?"
Reggie growled at that.
Claire looked down at him sharply. "I swear, if you try to say anything right now you are in even bigger trouble than you already are, mister. I'm mad at you."
The growl turned into a whimper that sounded vaguely like, "Ah ruvv yu, caaar."
She looked up at me. "Actually this is my fiancé. When he's been bad I use a transformation spell to turn him into an animal as punishment. He's been a rat, a weasel, a ferret—" she frowned "—are ferrets and weasels the same thing? Anyhow, he's been a snake, a small, hairy pig, and now a dog."
I blinked and waited for her to tell me she was just kidding, but she looked at me with complete sincerity.
Ten weeks ago I didn't believe in any of this stuff: vampires, witches, demons, you name it. Now, Claire was saying that she had used her knowledge of witchcraft to turn the man she planned to marry into a dog as a penalty for looking at other women?
Not my business. I had my own issues to deal with at the moment.