Nicole Peeler - [Jane True 01] (12 page)

“Does that answer your questions?” he asked, taking my hand and giving
it a squeeze. “I know this has to be a lot of information coming too quickly.
You halflings don’t have it easy when you’ve been raised human. But it
will
begin to make sense, eventually. And you’ve got a long time to get used to it.”

He let my hand go with a stomach-churning caress and started back in on
his steak. We finished what was left of our meals in silence, for which I was
happy. I didn’t know how much more my poor brain could take in one night.

After dinner we ordered pie and coffee, and only then did Ryu ask me
about Jakes. I told him about finding the body and I told him everything that
Grizzie had told me about the investigation. Ryu was most interested in the
stuff about Peter’s car. I told him that I didn’t think there’d been anything
strange happening during Peter’s stay here in Rockabill, but I wouldn’t have
known what to look for, anyway.

We finished our desserts and Ryu asked for the bill. I tried to pay for
my share, but he just rolled his eyes at me. “It’s on the company,” he said.
“Don’t worry about it.” I didn’t know whether to be pleased or displeased at
that information. When he’d insisted on paying, it had felt like a date, but I
didn’t know if I should be on a date. So I settled on feeling ambivalent, and
let it go at that.

He had a faraway look in his eyes as he helped me into my coat, and then
turned me around so he could zip me up. I felt like a child standing there, but
I don’t think he was even aware of what he was doing. He took my hand and we
walked out into the parking lot. I waved at Amy through the window, still
feeling slightly superfluous as we walked to Ryu’s car. He opened my door and
then went around and got into the driver’s seat.

Starting the engine, he turned to me. “The obvious course of action is
to find Jakes’s car,” he said, decisively. “But tonight’s not the right time. A
night like this is too good to waste.” There was that cheeky wink again. “Let’s
go out. Do you want to go out?”

“Yes, please,” I answered, my voice strangely small.

“Excellent.” He grinned, adjusting my seat belt again. My heart
palpitated, right on cue.

“So what passes for a watering hole here in Rockabill, Maine?”

I hated to tell him. “It’s called the Pig Sty.”

His yipping laugh echoed through the car as we peeled out from our
parking space and into the night.

CHAPTER SEVEN

F
rom the
parking lot, Ryu eyed the Sty skeptically. The Pig Sty was your average country
watering hole: big and airy, a little shabby, and with a large quantity of very
little selection. There were no rare micro-brewery pilsners, nor were there any
pinot grigios or un-oaked chardonnays. The Sty had “red wine” or “white wine,”
a few different, inevitably domestic species of beer and light beer, and the
standard selection of hard liquor. That said, the owners, Marcus and Sarah
Vernon, had always been really nice to me, going out of their way to be
inviting. And the Vernons made sure everyone behaved.

Legend has it that Marcus had chucked Stuart, my nemesis, into the
Dumpster the first night the Sty opened. Stu had been throwing his weight
around, as usual, and had grabbed some tourist’s ass and said something filthy
in her ear when out of nowhere Marcus struck. Marcus was decidedly smaller than
Stu, but Stu hadn’t had a chance. One minute he was standing there looking
surprised, the next he had disappeared into the filthy Dumpster out back.
Marcus hadn’t even broken a sweat.

I would have paid good money to have seen the look on Stu’s face that
night.

The best part is that Stu, in the end, had to humble himself and ask
Marcus for forgiveness. The Pig Sty was the only bar for miles and Stu was
already
barred from half the places between here and Eastport. So, he’d sucked it up
and apologized, and I guess Marcus had felt that he’d made his point and
allowed Stuart to come back.

More’s the pity
, I thought, recognizing Stuart’s enormous
SUV in the parking lot. I stifled a groan. But the Sty was a big place and the
parking lot was pretty full. Hopefully Stuart would overlook my presence.

Ryu parked close to the main entrance and, once again, took my hand as
we walked into the bar.
He’s making a habit of the hand-holding
, I
thought, unsure how I felt about that fact. No, check that. I knew I felt
pretty damned good about holding his hand, but I was also pretty sure that I
shouldn’t.

Not least because he just admitted to being a vampire,
I
reminded myself.

Whatever,
my libido purred.
You don’t get to
judge him for having fangs when he hasn’t judged you for going bonkers. Not to
mention, vampires are hot.

You’re not helping
, the more virtuous aspect of my
personality scolded.

The gods help those who help themselves
, my libido
smirked, taking control of my hand long enough to give Ryu’s a little squeeze.
He smiled at me, pleasure suffusing his features.

Jane True, get a grip!
I threatened, my face coloring for
about the fiftieth time that evening.

Behind the large bar were Sarah and Marcus. Both about the same size,
they looked like brother and sister except for their skin tones. She was very
pale and he was very dark, although they had the same boyish haircuts. Sarah
spiked hers up, as if to match her husband’s afro. They were each about five
foot six and muscular, but in a really attractive way—they looked like acrobats
rather than weight lifters. They’d always gone out of their way to speak to me
in the village and I enjoyed coming into the Sty because of them. That said, I
rarely made an appearance, as Stuart often lurked in the vicinity.

Sarah and Marcus both looked up sharply as Ryu and I entered.
Hmm
,
I thought.
I know that look
. So I was both surprised and not surprised
when I felt Ryu’s power begin swirling, presumably making us invisible, and
Marcus stalked forward demanding to know if Ryu had checked in with Nell.

Well,now I know why they were so nice to me
.

Ryu assured Marcus his presence was legitimate, and then Marcus turned
to face me.

“Welcome, Jane,” he said, wrapping me up in a hug as if I were his long
lost sister. When he let me go, Sarah was right there to replace him. She
hugged me so tight my vertebrae crunched, murmuring, “I’m so glad you finally
know
,”
in my ear.

They both stood there beaming at me for an uncomfortable moment, before
escorting us to the left-hand side of the bar.

Sitting there were Gus Little, Miss Carol, and a man I didn’t recognize.
Gus worked as a bag boy at McKinley’s grocery store, even though he appeared to
be middle-aged. Rumor had it that Gus was “special,” but in the short bus,
rather than the supernatural, way. He was a small man, and very chubby, with a
huge round face and these funny eyes that swam alarmingly behind enormous,
Coke-bottle glasses. He was also bald as an egg.

Miss Carol was one of my favorite Rockabill characters, next to Grizzie.
She had to be at least seventy and she’d been living in Rockabill, and had been
old, for as long as anybody could remember. She had a thick Southern accent for
absolutely no discernible reason, and she wore hideous pastel-colored suits,
with matching gloves, shoes, and hat every day of the year. I would
never
have pictured her hanging out in the Sty.

The unknown man was very slender and strangely elongated, like he’d been
stretched on a rack. He gave me a watery smile, his slightly bleary eyes rather
unfocused. He had the air of someone elderly, even though he didn’t look to be
more than fifty-five.

All three were greeting me like an old friend when I heard the
pop
of a champagne cork, an incongruous sound for the Sty. Marcus and Sarah were
pouring out glasses and handing them around our little group. I wondered what
they were celebrating, when Sarah held up her glass and announced, “To Jane!
Welcome to the family!” They all clinked glasses while I sat stunned. Ryu
clinked his glass to mine and leaned over to whisper, “You should say
something.” His lips brushed my ear and I started.

“Thank you,” I said, holding up my glass. “I wasn’t expecting this. I,
um, really appreciate it.” I clumsily saluted them with my champagne flute and
raised the bubbly to my lips. It was delicious. I’d never tasted champagne
before.

They all drank with me, and then Miss Carol gave a little cheer and
hollered, “Does this mean I get a discount?” I laughed so hard I nearly snorted
champagne out of my nose. Miss Carol was one of our best customers, but she
read the filthiest books imaginable. She special ordered them and we had to
keep them wrapped up and behind the counter till she picked them up, they were
so dirty.

Everyone laughed with me, and Sarah and Marcus went back to work, each
giving me another warm smile before attending to the other customers. None of
whom, I noticed, had paid the slightest bit of attention to our little party in
the corner.

Ryu refilled my glass and I took the opportunity to whisper, “So, what
is everybody?”

He refilled his own while he answered. “Marcus and Sarah are nahuals,
like Amy. They’re the most prevalent type of supernatural being at the moment,
for complicated reasons. Miss Carol is actually Nell’s niece; she’s a gnome.”

“Wait,” I interrupted. “She doesn’t
look
like a gnome. And she’s
lived in Rockabill all of her life.”

“She’s young for a gnome,” he explained. “When she gets to full power,
she’ll wizen right up like Nell. And then she’ll have to find her own land; two
mature gnomes can’t share the same territory. But for right now Nell protects her
while she gathers her strength. And as for her residency in the village, I bet
nobody ever remembers a time when ‘Miss Carol’ was young?”

“Ah,” I said, taking the hint. “She’s glamoured.”

“All the time,” he concurred.

“And what about Gus?” I asked. “Everybody in Rockabill says he’s, er,
slow.”

Ryu grinned. “Gus isn’t slow,” he responded. “He’s a rock.”

I got the feeling he wasn’t making a cruel joke, so I waited for him to
explain.

“Gus is a stone spirit. Somewhere around Rockabill is a boulder that Gus
is attached to. He’ll spend most of his life as part of the stone, but for a
few decades every couple of hundred years, he’ll emerge to try to find a mate.
Stone spirits are incredibly rare, so his chances are almost nil. But he’ll
give it a go.”

“And in the meantime he bags groceries?” I asked incredulously.

“Why not?” Ryu asked. “It gets him out, gets him interacting with people
in a way that he can handle. We all enjoy being around humans. They’re like…
fireworks. They’re brilliant and they dazzle and then they fade and die. Gus’s
nature is to be a stone. He’s not going to turn around and become a race-car
driver. But he can bag groceries and soak up some human vitality, so he does.”

I mulled this over before I pointed discreetly at the elastic-man. “And
who’s he? He seems to know me but I don’t recognize him.”

Ryu’s grin was so big it nearly split his face. “That… is Russ.”

I blinked. “Mr. Flutie’s
dachshund
?”

“Yup.” He laughed. “Nahuals aren’t as long-living as others of us since
they don’t have as much contact with the elements. Russ is about four hundred
years old, which is ancient in nahual terms. Sometimes, when they’re that age,
they retire as pets. It’s a good life, I guess. All the food you can eat and
somebody to scratch your belly.” He arched his expressive brows at me and my
spine tingled. “There are worse ways to spend your golden years.”

“Huh,” was all I could say, trying to still my butterflies while mulling
over what Ryu had just told me.
And I thought I had secrets…

“It’s all fun and games till the vet tries to put you to sleep,” I said,
finally. Ryu barked like a seal.

When he’d regained his composure, I asked, “How do you know so much
about everybody?”