All of my memories gone or risk becoming a nightwalker 24/7 whether or not I wanted to be. I had to get rid of this curse. The grimoire Gideon allegedly had now became a beacon of hope for me. I had to get my hands on it.
“Now,” Veronique said. “Let’s talk of less depressing matters, shall we?”
“What do you want to talk about?” I asked weakly.
“The Red Devil,” she said evenly. “Have you seen him again?”
“I… I actually have. Yeah.”
“And have you mentioned my interest in exploring a relationship with him?”
I stared at her for a long moment. “The subject hasn’t come up yet.”
Her lips thinned a little. “I understand. You do have other issues to consider. However, if you could tell him that it is I, Veronique—”
I held up a hand. “No offense, but setting up a devilish booty call for you is a bit low on the list at the moment for me, as I’m sure you can understand. But I do want to talk about the Red Devil.”
She tilted her head to the side. “I am not interested in a booty call, I am interested in a relationship, a romance with the most interesting man I’ve ever met. I took you to be a romantic, Sarah.”
“And I am. Depending on the day.” I forced all curse-related thoughts temporarily out of my already crowded brain. “What exactly is it about the Red Devil that appeals to you so much? I mean, you could have any man you want.”
“Yes, that is very true. But ever since I met him nearly two hundred years ago, I have kept him in the back of my mind and all men since have paled considerably in comparison to that memory. Our meeting was so momentous, so intense and incredible, that I dream about him to this very day.”
“Tall guy, about six feet,” I said. “Dark hair, broad shoulders, gray eyes.”
“Yes. Handsome with or without the mask, I would imagine.”
“So you got a good look at him. You actually saw his face.”
“Yes.” She closed her eyes and sighed like a fangirl. “I even kissed him to show my gratitude.”
Tramp. “So he didn’t look familiar to you at all? Is there anyone you’ve ever met who you think might be the Red Devil after hours?”
She smiled. “Much like a modern-day superhero with a closely guarded secret identity?”
“Sure. Something like that.”
Her forehead creased slightly in concentration. I imagined that she was thinking of meeting the Red Devil, being rescued by him, and then never seeing him again despite the
“be my lover” vibe-fest she was sending out.
She slowly shook her head. “I have met a great many people, human, hunter, and vampire, in my life, and there is nary a one that I believe could be masquerading as the Red Devil.”
Seriously? She seriously didn’t know?
“Just thought I’d ask,” I said.
She leaned over the table. “Why? Do you know who the man is behind the mask?”
“Nope,” I lied. “But it is something to think about.”
“Indeed it is.”
I pushed the small stack of hundred-dollar bills the rest of the way across the table to her.
“Here. As I said, I’ll pay you back the rest when I get a new job. Maybe they’re looking to hire staff at Darkside.”
“I’ve heard Darkside has recently been sold. Vampire real estate is a fluid thing. It is likely the new owners will close up shop to protect themselves and their investment.”
“Even with… Gideon Chase… dead and buried?” I said carefully. “Is it still that dangerous?”
“Especially now. The hunters’ need for violence has become even more indiscriminate than before.” She pushed her small cup of espresso away from her. “That’s why I want to make every day count. Time is of the essence for me.”
“What for?”
“To become a part of the Red Devil’s life, of course.” She frowned at me. “Honestly, Sarah, you seem very distracted to me today.”
No shit, Sherlock.
She pursed her red lips and glanced around at our surroundings. “Did you have a meeting with Barry scheduled after this?”
“Barry?” I repeated. “Barry Jordan? The man who hates me with every small fiber in his tiny being? No. Why?”
“Because he is staring at you rather intently right now.” She shrugged her elegant shoulders. “A coincidence, I’m sure.”
I looked around the small café but saw no one I recognized. Then I turned to the window facing the sidewalk.
I jumped. Barry Jordan stared straight through the pane of glass at me next to my face. He was the same height standing as I was sitting so when I looked we were face to face.
He didn’t look amused. He jabbed his right pointer finger at me and then curled it as if he wanted me to come outside.
I looked past him to see Amy but there was no one else with him.
“I think he’s trying to tell you something,” Veronique observed.
I held a hand to my ear and looked at Barry again. “What?”
He already looked frustrated with me.
I glanced at Veronique. “Please tell me he’s not the vampire the Ring assigned to eliminate me. That would be so embarrassing.”
“Of course not. Such an important task would not be given to a mere servant.”
“That’s kind of derogatory, don’t you think?”
She looked confused. “There are those who are servants and those who are masters.