by Kim Harrison
“Stay with me, Emily,” Felicity said, her narrow face beginning to show her anger.
Cooper, too, felt a surge of protectiveness, and he extended his hand, intending to grip the older man’s hand with a shade too much pressure. “Hello, I’m Cooper.”
But the man in the gray suit ignored him and his hand. “All yours, Felicity?” he said, not a glance at Cooper. “We’ve talked about this. You shame yourself. Again.”
Felicity flicked her eyes from Cooper to her father. “It’s just an expression.”
“One would hope.” Only now did he look at Cooper, his lips pressed tight and his dark brown eyes narrowed in a tired, old frustration.
“This is Cooper,” Felicity said with a sudden meekness, as if only now after he’d looked at Cooper could she introduce him. “He takes care of dogs and was kind to Emily.”
“It’s good to meet you, sir,” Cooper said, but he didn’t hold his hand out again.
With a single glance, Felicity’s father dismissed him. “I forbid it. Everyone to his place, and a place for everyone. What you want goes against tradition.”
“The hell with traditions!” Felicity said loudly, shocking Cooper when she dramatically flung a hand into the air, and he wondered again if she was a little drunk. “If it was wrong, then it wouldn’t be possible!”
Wincing, Cooper looked around, but no one was even watching them. What the blue blazes had he been thinking, coming here? Of course crazy girlfriend would have a lunatic psycho dad. Lunatic, psycho, rich dad.
Felicity’s father made a rumble of discontent. “I have two men I want you to meet. Now. It’s growing late, and I have things to attend to.”
“You know what?” Cooper said as he glanced at Emily rocking her kitten and crooning to it as she ignored their argument as if from long practice. “Maybe I should just go.”
“No!” Felicity clutched his arm, and another surge of protectiveness shocked through him. She was so beautiful, vulnerable. “I want to talk to you.” She glanced at her father, who was smiling in an ugly way. “Please stay with Emily. This won’t take long.”
It was her tremulous smile that did it. That and the shove her father had given Emily. If the man pushed children at a Christmas party, then he probably did a lot worse in private.
“I’ll stay,” he said, and she exhaled happily. Cooper’s pride swelled. For all her money, she needed him.
“Thank you,” she said, letting go and sliding closer to her father to look small.
Immediately the older man’s mood shifted. “Good to meet you, Cooper,” he said distantly as if he was already somewhere else. “Have some wine. I’ve not started on this one.”
He extended the glass, and Felicity bumped him. “Whoops!” she said even before the cup hit the floor, and Cooper edged back to avoid the splash when the thin wood broke like glass. “Papa, I’ll be right with you. Let me get Cooper a new drink,” she said, kicking the pieces under the table. “Emily, come with us.”
Her father’s eyes narrowed, but Felicity had taken Cooper’s arm and was leading him through the crowded floor. Cooper looked back once as they were jostled, then leaned close, shouting, “Why do I have the feeling that your dad thinks you’re too good for me?”
She was smiling when she looked back at him, her grip on his arm tightening. “Because he does,” she said, clearly angry though her voice was barely audible over the pounding music. “He thinks you’re a stray.”
Rich bastard. “Felicity, you’re a beautiful woman, but I should leave,” he said when they got through the crush.
Immediately Felicity stopped, Emily beside her as she tried to get her kitten to eat one of those little cakes. Her troubled gaze flicked over his shoulder, then back to him. “Please, stay,” she pleaded, pulling him closer again. “This will only take a minute. He has my best interests at heart, but he’s a pain in the ass. Don’t eat anything while I’m gone, okay? Promise? Wait for me.”
Cooper jerked his gaze from Emily still coaxing the kitten into eating that sweet. “I’m starved,” he admitted.
“Me too. I’ll bring something back. Something special. Please?”
Felicity looked truly distressed. Behind her on the other side of the club in one of the private booths, her father waited with two men, giving them each a wineglass and toasting until they drank. Cooper thought it interesting that they were younger than him, dressed even more casually. It wasn’t his wallet that alienated her father; it was something else. “Okay,” he finally said, and she smiled, making everything right.
“Emily?” she called, and the little girl swayed closer.
“Yes, Mama?” She’d gotten the kitten to eat a bite, and Emily was wiping her whiskers with a white napkin.
Felicity dropped gracefully down to crouch before Emily and, using a finger, lifted her chin up. “Would you be a big girl and entertain Mr. Cooper for me?”
“But I’m already watching Leonard,” the little girl complained.
What was it with the bat? Maybe the thing really was a pet.
“Grandpa wants me to meet someone,” Felicity was saying firmly to Emily. “I don’t want anyone thinking Cooper is a stray while I’m gone.”
Emily peered around Cooper. “One has nice hair,” she offered, surprising Cooper.
Felicity smiled. “We’ll see.” The crumb of cake dropped to the floor, and the kitten struggled to get it, settling back when Felicity plucked it from the floor and fed it to her. Tiny little canines lunged for it, grazing Felicity’s finger. “Where’s Leonard?”
“Under the pool table,” Emily said, and Felicity stood, touching her shoulder.
“Then take Mr. Cooper over there so he doesn’t get lonely.”
“But Mama,” she began to whine, and Cooper smiled.
“Just do it, Emily,” her mother said sharply, and the little girl deflated. “The sooner I finish with Grandpa, the sooner I can take you on the dance floor. You, me, and Mr. Cooper.”
“Promise?” she begged, deep green eyes wide as she looked up at them both.
Felicity nodded even as Cooper wondered how that was going to play out. “If it’s okay with Mr. Cooper.”
He smiled as Felicity squeezed his hand in parting. No amount of crazy-woman sex was worth getting involved with a woman with two kids, a bat, and an abusive father. He should leave and give the next in line a chance. But as Felicity angled her way around the dance floor, he crossed his arms over his chest and settled back with Emily. He couldn’t leave her unattended.
“So your cat can eat cake, but I can’t,” he said sourly, and Emily beamed at him, nodding. “What did you name her?” he asked, curious, and Emily turned to a quiet corner where a soft glow lit a span of green felt.
“I didn’t,” she said, surprising him. But she was walking away, and he scrambled to keep up. She was surprisingly fast, and with sudden quickness, he found himself in a back corner of the bar, feeling as if he’d stepped through a curtain. The music still beat into him, but it was muted. The air was cooler, and the smell of food less, which was a relief. He was starving.
Emily had crawled under the pool table and was talking to Leonard, probably, and Cooper shook his head, finding a nearby chair to fall into. Sighing, he looked at the ceiling, glad he had a moment to gather himself. Felicity’s family was just too weird.
“Isn’t she soft?” Emily said right in front of him, and he pulled his head down to find her standing between his knees, far too close. She had shoved her sleepy cat right into his face, and he straightened, taking her shoulders and moving her to stand beside him instead. “She smells so good!” Emily added, pushing the sleepy cat into his face again.
Taking the kitten in self-defense, Cooper buried his nose into the long fur, breathing in a scent that smelled vaguely like rabbit. “She smells perfect,” he said, and Emily’s green eyes narrowed.
“Mine!” she demanded, hands reaching.
“You shouldn’t feed her cake,” Cooper said as he handed the kit
ten back. “She’s a carnivore. You know what that is?”
The kitten once more in her arms, Emily gave Cooper a big sloppy kiss, the cat pressed between them. “It means she likes blood,” the little girl said in her high, innocent voice.
Surprised, Cooper wiped his lips, wondering at the slight bitter taste Emily had left behind. “I suppose. Cake might give her a tummy ache.”
Emily dropped to her knees and crawled back under the table with her cat. Cooper settled back in relief. She was a sweet girl, but he wasn’t comfortable around kids. There were a few children on the outskirts like Emily. None of them were playing with each other but were alone, talking with grown-ups. Talking with beautiful, lyrical people with black hair.
Frowning, Cooper wiped the bitterness from his mouth again and sat up. Where had all the redheads gone?
Leaning, he looked at Emily under the table, playing with her kitten. What is taking Felicity so long? “Are you excited to be able to stay up late?”
“No,” came her sweet voice, and she crawled out to climb into the chair beside him, swinging her feet and cuddling her kitten. “Are you sure you don’t want to dance?”
“Pretty sure,” he said, looking for Felicity’s red hair among the brunettes. He finally spotted her clear across the bar, arguing with her father. Slowly he frowned. “That’s odd.”
“What?” Emily asked as she buried her nose in her kitten’s fur.
Cooper ran a finger between his collar and his neck. “I could have sworn there were more people here with red hair.”
Emily laughed. “You’re funny, Mr. Cooper,” she said, cuddling her cat.
“And you need to name your kitten, young lady.”
He’d meant it as a joke, but the little girl looked at the cat seriously, purring in her arms with her eyes closed. “I’ll name her Happy,” she said, and Cooper nodded, satisfied.
“That’s a good name.” Sucking on his teeth, he watched the people around him, counting the red to brunette ratio. Everyone on the dance floor had black hair now, moving fast in a complicated line dance, feet hitting the floor simultaneously to make the chandeliers shake.
His gaze drifted over the shadowed booths, landing on a particularly amorous couple, arms wrapped around each other and heads locked together as the rest of the table ignored them, one blond woman with her head on the table next to her wineglass, and the other staring vacantly into the dancing mob.
Chuckling, he started to look away, but a glint of teeth yanked his attention back.
Jaw dropping, he stared as the man pulled from the woman for a breath of air, then slowly bent back to her, shifting her head slightly to show her bleeding, torn flesh. Holy shit! he thought, going cold as a wash of fear hit him. He’d bitten her! The woman was bleeding!
Cooper looked from the woman passed out on the table to the one staring vacantly at nothing. Sweet Jesus, he thought in a panic. Was he in a bestial bar? He’d heard about these, places where bored, wealthy people went to abuse poor slobs . . . like himself.
His blood pounded, and he forced himself not to move, freezing like a cornered animal. The food he’d been warned not to eat . . . Was it drugged? Why else would someone sit there and let another person take a chunk out of them!
“Emily . . .” he whispered, and she looked at him, sweet and innocent as she played with her kitten, little feet swinging in those white stockings and shiny black shoes.
“Your eyes are brown,” he stammered. And her hair was black. Her hair was black. He knew it had been red, like autumn leaves. Sweet Jesus, save me, I’m going crazy.
The little girl beamed at him. “They’re only green when I’m hungry, silly.”
Swallowing, Cooper looked at the kitten, unmoving in her arms, at the spot of blood on her fur. In a rush of motion, he stood. Emily had bitten her. The little cat had let her, drugged when it ate that piece of cake. Felicity had helped her.
“My God,” he whispered, not knowing what to do. Emily hadn’t been smelling the cat’s fur, she had been biting it!
“Oh my God . . .” he breathed again as the band hammered out a pulse-pounding beat and people howled like savages praying to their gods. “I have . . . to go.”
He scanned the bar, counting more than a dozen people unconscious, some being carried out the back to who knew what. There were too many people between the door and himself. Terrified, he took a step.
“Cooper.”
Felicity’s voice cut through the noise, diving to his middle and igniting his panic. He spun, knowing his fear was obvious when she held up a hand. Her hair was darker, and her eyes were now a deep brown. Cooper’s gaze flicked behind her to the doorman hoisting one of the men she had been talking to over his shoulder and carrying him away.
“Y-You . . .” he stammered, his stomach twisting. “My God . . .” He couldn’t say it. She was a beast. She’d bitten that man. Like a vampire. He’d known the woman had problems, but this was unreal!
Felicity wiped the corner of her mouth with a pinky before saying, “How else am I supposed to know which one tasted the best?”
Flip, but still true. Reeling, he staggered back, hand reaching for the support of the chair. “Oh my God!” he said louder. “This is not happening! You. All of you! This isn’t happening!”
Emily had crawled back under the pool table, and Felicity came close, making Cooper retreat until he couldn’t move any farther. “Keep your voice down!” she almost hissed, and Cooper could smell a weird, musky smell on her breath.
Not one of the beautiful people in the bar had red hair anymore. They were all black haired now, their faces pale and their lips red as they danced, their motions becoming wilder as they left their “invites” at the tables for others to remove so they could join the dance. The music had become bestial—arms flinging, feet stomping, chanting in unison.
“Oh my God,” he breathed. Feeling as if he might pass out, he fell into a chair and put his head in his hands. Things like this weren’t real! This wasn’t happening!
“Shit,” Felicity said, and she stood between him and the rest of the bar. “Emily, did you let him eat anything?”
“No, Mama,” came from under the pool table.
Cooper jerked when someone touched him, and he looked at the two in horror, Felicity peering at him in concern and Emily petting her kitten, passed out in her arms. “I gotta go,” he said thinly, and Felicity pushed him back into his chair.
She was stronger than she looked, and Cooper flopped back, feeling his chest where she’d touched him as she moved a chair to block everyone’s view of him and sat. “If you want to die, get up and run to a door you can’t open,” she said, her expression hard. “If you want to live, really live, sit down, shut up, and do what I tell you.”
This is not happening.
“You can’t get out,” Felicity said, her musty breath mingling with his as she leaned close. “The veil is on the cusp of turning, and we’re in the gateway.”
He tried to stand again, and she put a hand on his chest, holding him down. “It’s sealed!” she whispered as she saw his panic. “There’s only one way to go, and that’s through the veil. You can either pass through with me as my consort or as part of my father’s larder. Listen to me!”
Panting, he looked up, seeing her dark eyes, her ebony hair—her red, red lips. Seeing his attention, she moved her hand from his chest to his fingers, holding them lightly. Behind Felicity, people danced, and he nodded, humoring her. He had to get out of here.
“I’m immortal, Cooper,” she said, a curious lilt to her voice as if she delighted in it. “I’ve been raising Emily and Leonard alone after my fool husband died when a hunter thought a bearskin rug would be a fine thing to have. I love my children, but they grow so slowly, and I’m tired of doing this alone. I can’t trust anyone else.”
Cooper tried to stand, halting when she squeezed his hand and his knees threatened to give out. “You drink blood!” he whispered, cold as he saw Emily sitting cross-legged under
the pool table with the kitten. “Oh God, she’s killing that cat,” he moaned.
“Don’t be silly,” Felicity snapped. “That cat has to last Emily for at least a year. She’s not about to kill it.” She turned, smiling. “Are you, lovey?”
“No, Mama,” the little girl said, hugging the unmoving animal.
Nausea bubbled up, and Cooper forced it down. “I don’t feel good,” he said, unable to keep his head up. He shivered when Felicity touched his hair, petting him. Shoving her hand off him, he stared at the lyrical figures wildly dancing, the food he had been told not to eat, and the unconscious people being carried away. “You’re fairies,” he said, and Felicity blinked. “My grandmother told me never to eat with fairies or I’d be spirited away for a hundred years.”
“Fairies?” Felicity said, laughing. “Fairies are facets of us given their own identity by ignorant humans who see only half of it. A wispy daydream of us at our green-eyed least. Vampire is more the truth, and even then you get it wrong. We can break through the veil at any time, but only when it’s at its thinnest can we bring anyone back. Immortal doesn’t mean invincible, and beyond the veil, we are safe from you.”
It’s the solstice, he remembered, feeling haggard. “Don’t touch me,” he demanded as she tried to pet him again, and this time, she backed off as if he’d slapped her, a hurt expression on her face. “You drugged me,” he accused.
“No, it’s the veil,” she said, leaning to look under the pool table. “Emily, bring Leonard out to meet Mr. Cooper properly,” she said, then smiled at him. “You’re in the gateway. Until you land to one side or the other, it feels as if you’re holding your breath.”
Gateway? Cooper watched a little boy crawl out behind Emily, his chubby fingers holding tight to her hand. He had to be about four, shy as he snuck glances at Cooper from behind his mother. Leonard? They named the bat after him?
In a sudden surge of fear, he figured it out. Leonard is the bat. Emily had tried to sell her brother. What older sister hadn’t wanted to do that at some point? She’d tried to trade her little brother for a pet she hadn’t bothered to name. “I’m in hell,” he whispered, and Felicity huffed.