Shadow Rising (22 page)

The Wayfarer was jammed. Derrick Means, my werebadger bartender, was shooting out drinks as fast as the orders came
in. He was working out really well. Derrick was talented, sober, and able to take care of troublemakers. And he knew how to use a shotgun.

Almost every booth was filled, and as I looked around, I wondered when we’d gone from being a moderately successful bar to a happening spot. “Vampire,” by People in Planes, was playing on the jukebox, and several people were dancing.

As I took a closer look, I realized that there were a number of vamps in my bar. We served bottled blood—animal—for them, but I hadn’t been very popular among the bloodsucker set and I blinked. When did this happen? I’d been so busy, I’d lost track of what was going on here. And then, as I passed through, waving at people, I heard their whisperings.

Roman’s consort—she’s here.

She doesn’t look like much. I wonder what Roman sees in her.

Look at those eyes—you can tell she wasn’t ever human.

I hear she’s a lesbian—

No, she’s bi. I bet Roman gets to fuck her and her girlfriend.

So
that
was it. Somehow I’d gained status—of whatever sort—because of Roman, and it was starting to play out in the bar. The continual ring of the cash register told me just how well we were doing, and as I took my place behind the bar with Derrick, he gave me a quick nod.

“Meni—we need more help.” He had five orders in front of him and I took over two of them.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” I flipped a bottle in the air and caught it, pouring three straight shots of whiskey. As I set them on the tray for Chrysandra, she shook her head.

“We not only need a second bartender, but we need at least two more waitresses if this keeps up. Afternoon shift isn’t too bad, but man, around five or six, the joint’s started to jump.” She slid the tray onto her hand and wove through the milling throng, deftly keeping her balance.

I worked quickly, taking the pressure off Derrick. “As I said, why didn’t you guys tell me?”

“You’ve been busy, and we know that it’s something big, though I’m not sure what it is. But this started about three
weeks ago. I’m not sure what spurred the increase, but the Wayfarer is one of the hot spots now. And every room in the bed-and-breakfast end is booked up for the next four months. We’ve got reservations from OW up the wazoo.” Derrick grunted and handed out another tray to Lena, a waitress I’d hired to help out topside, with room service for our overnight guests. I saw that they’d drafted her to the floor.

“Shit, I don’t have time to interview. Derrick, you know anybody who’s good, who needs a job?”

But even as I asked, a dark, swarthy vamp sidled up to the counter. “Roman says you might have some work for me?”

I’d never seen him before. “Who are you?”

“I work in Roman’s household, and he suggested you might be able to use my talents. I’ve been bartending since 1885.”

I snorted. “You don’t look a day over forty.”

He flashed his fangs, but there was a glint of laughter in his eye. “Good thing I was only forty-three when I was turned, and not eighty. I probably would have stepped into the sun if that had been the case.”

I glanced over at Derrick. “You think you can work with another vamp around here? He’d have to be with you on the night shift.”

Derrick shrugged as he poured out three martinis. “I’m the lead bartender, right? I’ve worked here for a while.”

“Yes, you’re the lead.” I glanced back at the vamp. “What’s your name? And you do know that I can—and will—check with Roman to make sure you’re telling the truth.”

He inclined his head. “You won’t find anything amiss. My name is Digger.”

I set down the bottle of schnapps I was about to pour. “Digger? Really?”

“I worked for a stint as a gravedigger in the twenties. Before that my name was Joe, but Digger stuck. And the Were need not worry. I won’t try to steal his place, and I won’t put the fang on him.” Digger glanced around. “I can start right now.”

“You don’t even know how much I’d be paying you.” I didn’t like being pushed, and it felt like he was pushing. But
if Roman wanted him working here, I’d have to at least consider it.

“Roman said he’d pick up the tab for my work.” Again the fangy smile.

“Oh, he did, did he? I pay my own tabs,” I muttered, but Digger still caught it.

“Roman doesn’t want the increase in business to unnerve your staff. Think of my work here as a gift.
A present.
”

I knew that emphasis—it meant Roman wanted Digger here, for whatever reason, and I’d play hell fighting the suggestion. I decided Roman and I really needed to have a talk, but now was not the time.

“Fine. Get back here. The rules: You follow Derrick’s lead. I don’t want to hear about any problems from you. Absolutely no drinking from any of the customers. I don’t allow any bloodwhoring in my bar. And keep your mitts off my waitresses’ tips.” I slipped on an apron and hopped over the counter. “I’ll help Chrysandra for now.”

Derrick motioned for Digger to step behind the counter and showed him where everything was. As I began taking orders, I took a closer look at the people who were hanging out in the bar. A wave of vamps, yes, but also FBHs. And then I saw fang marks on some of their necks. Oh
crap
, the vamps had brought their bloodwhores with them. Delightful. I absolutely refused to allow bloodsucking in my joint. I finished delivering my orders and told Derrick I’d be back in a minute.

I hightailed it to my office, where I wrote up a quick sign—I’d get a professional one made soon—that read,
NO BLOODSUCKING ALLOWED ON PREMISES. VIOLATORS WILL BE DRAINED AND STAKED
!

When I finished, I carried it out to a spot near the wall clock, levitated up, and quite loudly pounded a nail into the wall, then hung it up. Everyone turned to stare at me, which was what I’d wanted. They’d see the warning sign better if I made a racket and caught their attention.

As I lowered myself to the floor again, I caught several dirty looks cast my way, but I just returned them with a fangy smile. Everybody knew I wasn’t above staking my
own kind. Hell, I’d staked my sire, a taboo among vamps, and now I was Roman’s official consort, so they’d
better
watch their step. It suddenly occurred to me that I could get away with one hell of a lot. Of course, I wouldn’t abuse the privilege, but…the fact might come in handy sometime.

The door opened and I turned to see Nerissa, wearing a long trench coat and heels. Shade escorted her in, then waved and headed back out the door.

I rushed over. “Is everything okay?” I pulled her into my arms, leaning up on my tiptoes to kiss her.

She wrapped her arms around me.

“Yeah. I just asked Shade to come down with me—he can drive my car home and I’ll ride with you. Camille and Morio told me about what went down tonight. I just needed to reassure myself that you were safe.”

Her voice was soft, her lips pressed close to my ear, and I caught a wave of her perfume and went weak in the knees.

“Come with me.” I led her back to my office and shut the door, leaning against it as I turned. “I’m so sorry we haven’t had much time together since I returned from Otherworld. Life’s in such a jumble.”

“Have you given any thought to our plans?” She dropped into a chair.

I sighed. I didn’t want to discuss wedding plans right now. I straddled her lap. “I haven’t had time. Why don’t you just plan what you want and I’ll be happy with whatever you choose for us?”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “I want us to plan it
together
. It feels like you don’t really care.” Pouting, she fluttered her lashes at me.

“Baby, it’s not that—you know that I care. I want us to have a lovely ceremony, but I’m not good at planning these things. Camille and Delilah helped Iris with her wedding. I just showed up in what they told me to wear.”

I stroked her hair back and kissed her lashes, trying to coax a smile out of her. When Nerissa was ticked, she could hold a grudge for days. And we’d already been through this five or six times already.

“Please don’t be mad at me.”

She ducked her head, then kissed my finger as I gently bopped her nose. “You just…I just want to think you’re as invested in this as I am.” As a tear slowly trickled down her cheek, I felt horrible.

“Sweetheart, you know how much I love you. If I could give up being Roman’s consort, I would. For you, I’d do anything.”

“
Roman
doesn’t bother me. What bothers me is that I want you to be part of this—not just
show up
. I want you to be
part of my life
.”

I cupped her chin and then slid into the chair beside her, taking her hands in mine. “Please, never think I don’t want this. You
are
part of my life.”

Nerissa shrugged, then sniffled. “Then why won’t you tell me…I don’t know. Can’t you even decide what you want to wear to our commitment ceremony?”

I sighed, then leaned back. I liked clothes but Nerissa and Camille did my shopping, for the most part. They had bonded over fashion and makeup. But one look at Nerissa’s tears told me it was time to step up, to actually make a decision.

“Okay, then.” I closed my eyes, trying to picture myself at the ceremony. After a moment, an image began to shimmer into my mind. “I guess…I can see myself in a long violet gown, with a white cloak, and I want a bouquet of white roses and purple lilies. I want silver sandals, and I want you by my side. I don’t care where we hold our ceremony, I don’t care who is there, except that you’re standing beside me to pledge your love.”

I looked at her, then slowly raised her finger to my lips and kissed her ring. We’d exchanged bands a few months back.

She smiled, then. “You’ll be so beautiful in that. My Menolly.”

“If you want me to, I’ll even wear my hair down for you.” I’d started taking it out of the braids now and then, but somehow, it made me feel too vulnerable and I was always uncomfortable till Camille cornrowed it back. “I know you love it that way.”

But Nerissa shook her head. “No. I’m pledging my heart
to you…and Menolly, your braids are part of you. But maybe you can change the beads out for sparkling silver ones? That would be lovely. Or green?”

I snickered. “Camille will be only too happy to help.” Then, because I knew it mattered that I ask, I said, “What do you want to wear?”

Nerissa smiled through the tears. “I wanted to wait, to hear what you decided on. If you dress in violet, I’ll dress in deep plum. Long, elegant. We’d better hurry the shopping, though. We don’t have much time left. As far as venues, I’m afraid we’ve waited too long to book any place I can think of.”

I stopped her fretting with another kiss. “Shush, my sweet. The perfect place will crop up and I promise you, you’ll love it. You start looking for gowns tomorrow—I’ve told you what I want, and I trust your taste. But I do want you to promise me something else.”

“What?” She sounded eager, and I realized how much my being part of the decision-making process meant to her. It really
did
matter.

“I want to throw all the pledge ceremony crap out the window and just marry you. I still have to be Roman’s consort and I don’t mind if you play with the boys. But we get
married
.”

Nerissa gasped. Shifting in her seat, she asked, “But what about the logistics? You know…you’re a vampire, I’m a Were. We talked about future problems…what about all of that?”

“Fuck it all to hell. Let’s just stop dancing around vocabulary and you just fucking become my wife.
On our terms, in our way, by our rules.
”

And then, as she teared up again, I pulled her to me, my lips against hers. As I shifted, our kiss became deeper and she moaned in my mouth. She reached for my blouse, unbuttoning it from the top, and her hands sought my breasts. I didn’t wear a bra most of the time, and so her fingers grazed my nipples, teasing me as she thumbed them and then pinched, hard. My clit started to ache. I wanted her, wanted to stroke her, eat her out, watch her come.

Standing, I reached for the buttons on my jeans, but she
slapped my hands away and slowly unbuttoned them one by one, then slid them down my legs, stopping at eye level with my cunt. I wasn’t wearing underwear either, and she leaned in, tongued me quickly, a long slash of moisture against my aching fire.

“Gods, do that again.” I started to kick off my jeans, but she stopped me.

“Wait.” Nerissa slowly stood and opened her coat but did not take it off. She was wearing only pink panties, a garter belt, stockings, and a push-up bra. In her heels, she looked like some wanton succubus and I found it hard to keep from tackling her right there.

But she held up one hand. “Pull up your jeans.”

“Why?” I looked around. “It’s so loud out front that no one will hear us.”

But as she shook her head, someone knocked on the door. She motioned for me to stay put and walked over to answer it.

“You can’t answer it dressed like that—” I started to say, but she opened it, peeking out. A second later, she stood back and swung the door open.

Confused, I quickly buttoned my jeans again. But then my confusion turned to understanding as Roman stepped through the door. His gaze glittered as he first looked at Nerissa, and then at me.

“My limousine is waiting, ladies.” His voice was like silk over satin, smooth and delicious.

Nerissa smiled, graciously, and tied the belt of her coat, wrapping herself up again. She slipped her arm through mine and kissed me on the lips, then the neck. “I’m ready, willing, and able,” she said.

“I can see that, most delightfully.” Roman’s nostrils flared.

Nerissa straightened her shoulders. “I warn you. Menolly is my fiancée. And no matter what relationship you have with her, that will not change. She’s going to be my wife. But she is only your
mistress
. Do you understand?”

Roman bowed, flourishing his hand toward the door. “Understood. And understand this…I would not change your relationship for the world. It would hurt both of you. I
simply want to taste a part of it, to be a small part of it. Even if only for one night out of a thousand.”