Blood and Sand
Page 13
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He watched her as she slid onto a stool and dove into the conversation at the end of the bar, obviously familiar with the group of older men who looked like regulars. Their voices drifted to him as he ordered a vodka tonic and settled in to watch.
“Hey hey! There’s our girl,” one of the men called. “About time you let us take you out to celebrate.”
“You guys…” She shook her head while plopping onto the empty barstool in the middle of the group. “It was months ago.”
“Biggest drug bust in county history and you act like it’s no big deal?” another man said. “Your story practically broke that case for those knuckleheads in the DEA.”
“Hey, Marty, isn’t one of those knuckleheads your nephew?”
“Doesn’t mean he’s smart.”
She grinned. “Pretty sure that means he’s not, actually.”
The men around her burst into laughter.
This was her natural environment, Baojia decided. The perfectly coiffed woman at Boca had intrigued him, but the friendly girl who joked with the old men and sipped a beer almost came close to charming. She was relaxed here, despite her professional attire, which did not stand out as much as he would have expected. The gritty bar was filled with all manner of humans. Businessmen in suits mingled with working men in coveralls, both watching a baseball game that was on the television in the corner. There were more men than women, but not so few that Natalie stood out. There weren’t many students, but then it was Thursday night, not Friday or Saturday. Strangely, though the dive bar was completely opposite of his own club in numerous ways, the smell was remarkably similar. Alcohol. Sweat. Skin.
Blood.
He hadn’t eaten since he’d taken Natalie’s blood days before. It was probably a bad idea to see her again without feeding, but he trusted his self-control enough to chance it. This was the human who had provided him with some level of intrigue. He was grateful for that. And since he’d promised Dez anyway…
He watched her with the old men at the end of the bar. Almost all of them were grey-haired and wrinkled—men who would be her father’s age or older, if he had to guess. They watched her with a paternal protectiveness he could respect. She told stories they laughed at. They told jokes that made her groan.
She was happy. Bright.
His eyes slipped to her collar; he could see the pale, freckled skin where he had bitten her. He knew instinctively that, should she ever discover he had marked her, she would be angry. He took a sip of his cocktail and mentally shrugged. There was no need for her to know unless she came to the attention of another immortal. And if she did, annoyance with him was the least of her problems.
“I’m gonna pee my pants unless you stop.” She burst out laughing. “Okay, okay. When I get back, we’re changing the subject.”
“Spoilsport,” one man said.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She laughed and stood up. “Hey, Howard, can you order me another beer?”
“Sure thing, Nat.”
He watched her as she rolled her eyes and ducked down the hall leading to the bathrooms. Baojia picked up his drink and wandered closer, pretending to watch the baseball game. As he approached, he ignored the sounds of the television and tuned in to the old men’s conversation. “—anyone called her dad?” “Would she ever forgive us if we did? She didn’t even call him when she was getting threats during that last story.” There was scattered muttering. “I’d feel better if she at least had a dog. She lives all alone.” “She travels too much for a dog. She needs a nice guy. Marty, I thought you was gonna set her up with your nephew.” “She heard he was a cop and wouldn’t give him the time of day.” They all laughed. “Says she’ll drink with us, but that’s as far as it goes.” “Eh,” another one said. “My Tricia’s the same way. No cops. No firemen. Probably wouldn’t want her dating one of these young guys, anyway.” So Natalie’s father was a police officer, as were the men she was drinking with. Retired, he was guessing. He smiled. She was smart. Old cops kept their noses in their old precincts. If she wanted sources for stories, these men would know who to ask. Plus, it was evident she had a genuine affection for them. Then he frowned. They were also, evidently, worried about her. He heard her leaving the restroom, her step already familiar to his ears. He subtly moved into her path, letting her brush up against him and spill his drink. “Oh my gosh!” she said, looking up with an embarrassed smile. “How clumsy am I? I’m so sorry. Let me get you another one.” He looked down at her, more intrigued by the minute. Her scent was distracting, a mix of salt, honey, and the jasmine that grew around her house. “It’s fine. Sorry I didn’t see you.” “No, it was my fault. I wasn’t paying attention.” She looked down at his black suit. “It got all over you, too.” She pulled him toward the bar. “Hold on, I have some napkins here…” She dug into her familiar purse and brought out a stack of brown napkins he recognized from a local coffee chain. “I always take too many when I get coffee, but I keep them ’cause you never know, right?” He tried not to laugh as the man named Marty spotted them. “Nat, you mess up the guy’s suit? You gotta stop trying to run men over. A simple hello works.” “Hey, shut it.” She slapped the old man’s arm as she dabbed at the spot of vodka and tonic water on his chest. “Poor guy was just trying to watch the game and I ran into him. I’m so sorry,” she said again. He cocked his head, amused at her fussing. “It’s fine, really.” “This was probably just dry-cleaned, right?” She did the nose-wrinkling thing she’d done in the car the other night. “You look very… well-pressed.” “I’m not sure if that was a compliment or not.” She laughed, a pleasant sound that he decided he wanted to hear more often. “It is! Just ’cause I hang out with these jokers doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a man in a nice suit,” she said with a wink. “Hey,” another one of the old men spoke. “You wear a suit when you’re dead.” “Or you work in a cubicle,” Marty said. “Same thing,” Baojia added, and all the men laughed. “Natalie, I like this guy.” One of the old cops slapped his shoulder. “Sit down and let our girlwaslet our here buy you a drink.” “Oh thanks for offering.” Natalie turned to Baojia and said, “Sorry for the peanut gallery. Join me for a drink? It’s the least I can do since I messed up your suit.” He smiled. This was far easier than he’d expected. “I’d love to.”
“Hey hey! There’s our girl,” one of the men called. “About time you let us take you out to celebrate.”
“You guys…” She shook her head while plopping onto the empty barstool in the middle of the group. “It was months ago.”
“Biggest drug bust in county history and you act like it’s no big deal?” another man said. “Your story practically broke that case for those knuckleheads in the DEA.”
“Hey, Marty, isn’t one of those knuckleheads your nephew?”
“Doesn’t mean he’s smart.”
She grinned. “Pretty sure that means he’s not, actually.”
The men around her burst into laughter.
This was her natural environment, Baojia decided. The perfectly coiffed woman at Boca had intrigued him, but the friendly girl who joked with the old men and sipped a beer almost came close to charming. She was relaxed here, despite her professional attire, which did not stand out as much as he would have expected. The gritty bar was filled with all manner of humans. Businessmen in suits mingled with working men in coveralls, both watching a baseball game that was on the television in the corner. There were more men than women, but not so few that Natalie stood out. There weren’t many students, but then it was Thursday night, not Friday or Saturday. Strangely, though the dive bar was completely opposite of his own club in numerous ways, the smell was remarkably similar. Alcohol. Sweat. Skin.
Blood.
He hadn’t eaten since he’d taken Natalie’s blood days before. It was probably a bad idea to see her again without feeding, but he trusted his self-control enough to chance it. This was the human who had provided him with some level of intrigue. He was grateful for that. And since he’d promised Dez anyway…
He watched her with the old men at the end of the bar. Almost all of them were grey-haired and wrinkled—men who would be her father’s age or older, if he had to guess. They watched her with a paternal protectiveness he could respect. She told stories they laughed at. They told jokes that made her groan.
She was happy. Bright.
His eyes slipped to her collar; he could see the pale, freckled skin where he had bitten her. He knew instinctively that, should she ever discover he had marked her, she would be angry. He took a sip of his cocktail and mentally shrugged. There was no need for her to know unless she came to the attention of another immortal. And if she did, annoyance with him was the least of her problems.
“I’m gonna pee my pants unless you stop.” She burst out laughing. “Okay, okay. When I get back, we’re changing the subject.”
“Spoilsport,” one man said.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She laughed and stood up. “Hey, Howard, can you order me another beer?”
“Sure thing, Nat.”
He watched her as she rolled her eyes and ducked down the hall leading to the bathrooms. Baojia picked up his drink and wandered closer, pretending to watch the baseball game. As he approached, he ignored the sounds of the television and tuned in to the old men’s conversation. “—anyone called her dad?” “Would she ever forgive us if we did? She didn’t even call him when she was getting threats during that last story.” There was scattered muttering. “I’d feel better if she at least had a dog. She lives all alone.” “She travels too much for a dog. She needs a nice guy. Marty, I thought you was gonna set her up with your nephew.” “She heard he was a cop and wouldn’t give him the time of day.” They all laughed. “Says she’ll drink with us, but that’s as far as it goes.” “Eh,” another one said. “My Tricia’s the same way. No cops. No firemen. Probably wouldn’t want her dating one of these young guys, anyway.” So Natalie’s father was a police officer, as were the men she was drinking with. Retired, he was guessing. He smiled. She was smart. Old cops kept their noses in their old precincts. If she wanted sources for stories, these men would know who to ask. Plus, it was evident she had a genuine affection for them. Then he frowned. They were also, evidently, worried about her. He heard her leaving the restroom, her step already familiar to his ears. He subtly moved into her path, letting her brush up against him and spill his drink. “Oh my gosh!” she said, looking up with an embarrassed smile. “How clumsy am I? I’m so sorry. Let me get you another one.” He looked down at her, more intrigued by the minute. Her scent was distracting, a mix of salt, honey, and the jasmine that grew around her house. “It’s fine. Sorry I didn’t see you.” “No, it was my fault. I wasn’t paying attention.” She looked down at his black suit. “It got all over you, too.” She pulled him toward the bar. “Hold on, I have some napkins here…” She dug into her familiar purse and brought out a stack of brown napkins he recognized from a local coffee chain. “I always take too many when I get coffee, but I keep them ’cause you never know, right?” He tried not to laugh as the man named Marty spotted them. “Nat, you mess up the guy’s suit? You gotta stop trying to run men over. A simple hello works.” “Hey, shut it.” She slapped the old man’s arm as she dabbed at the spot of vodka and tonic water on his chest. “Poor guy was just trying to watch the game and I ran into him. I’m so sorry,” she said again. He cocked his head, amused at her fussing. “It’s fine, really.” “This was probably just dry-cleaned, right?” She did the nose-wrinkling thing she’d done in the car the other night. “You look very… well-pressed.” “I’m not sure if that was a compliment or not.” She laughed, a pleasant sound that he decided he wanted to hear more often. “It is! Just ’cause I hang out with these jokers doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a man in a nice suit,” she said with a wink. “Hey,” another one of the old men spoke. “You wear a suit when you’re dead.” “Or you work in a cubicle,” Marty said. “Same thing,” Baojia added, and all the men laughed. “Natalie, I like this guy.” One of the old cops slapped his shoulder. “Sit down and let our girlwaslet our here buy you a drink.” “Oh thanks for offering.” Natalie turned to Baojia and said, “Sorry for the peanut gallery. Join me for a drink? It’s the least I can do since I messed up your suit.” He smiled. This was far easier than he’d expected. “I’d love to.”
