Free Second Chance by Heather Brewer

his brow. “Isn’t there a huge Russian population here in the city?”
    “Yeah. But none that I know of have fangs. At least, I haven’t gotten close enough to tell.” Ash sighed again and started moving down the sidewalk. “Anyway, I’ll catch you later, I guess.”
    “Later, Ash.”
    He hated to admit it, but knowing that he wasn’t the only one having any trouble gathering intel really made him feel better about his lack of progress.

    After a trek that took him several blocks north, Joss entered V Bar, and thought about what had just happened at Obscura. Maybe he should be more careful about flashing Em’s picture around town. Maybe people would respond better to his questions. Maybe he’d learn more.
    He took a seat at the bar and ordered a black unsweetened ice tea with extra ice. His throat was parched and his feet tired after a long day of recon, so it made him feel relieved that V Bar was somewhere that he could sit down and have a tasty refreshment. The presence of his wooden stake in his back pocket, hidden under his shirt, was an even bigger relief.
    Plucking it from his suitcase before breakfast had lifted an enormous weight from his shoulders. It was pretty amazing how comforting just having his stake with him was. Especially considering that he was, to his knowledge, anyway, the only Slayer in the room.
    V Bar was an interesting little café. It was also bustling for a late afternoon, but it wasn’t so crowded that Joss felt squeezed in or anything. The bartender handed him his tea, took his money, and made change. As Joss dropped three dollars into the tip jar, he said, “This is a cool place. Who owns it?”
    The bartender smiled, his eyes sparkling. “My father, actually. A man by the name of Enrico Ciotti. Why do you ask? Are you an associate of his?”
    Inside Joss’s mind, he weighed the possible outcomes for any given answer. Settling quickly on what he deemed the wisest choice, he nodded. To which, the bartender shook his head, chuckling. “They get younger all the time, I swear. Shall I pour you the house red then? No need to hide behind a tea. The only human here today is pretty drunk in the corner over there.”
    Understanding spread through Joss’s veins like hot lava, slow and simmering. V Bar was owned by a vampire, bartended by a vampire, and frequented by vampires. The man behind the bar was a blood drinker, though likely a young one to be making such blatant slipups like he was, and he now thought that Joss was a vampire as well. In an action so quick and so utterly smooth, the actor in Joss stepped onto the stage and flashed a bemused smile—even though the boy Joss was trembling in terror at the idea that he was currently surrounded by monsters. “Believe it or not,” he chuckled. “I actually enjoy the taste of tea.”
    Smiling, the bartender folded his arms in front of his chest and leaned against the bar. “I’ve heard stranger things. One vampire I know enjoys jelly doughnuts. Another—a man named Otis—has a distinct weakness for freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.”
    Joss took a sip of his tea. The hint of fresh mint danced on his tongue, but still his mouth tasted bitter at the mention of a familiar name. He had no real idea of how vast the vampire world was, but Otis, even in the human world, was a relatively unusual name, so he took a breath and let the actor in him inquire. “Do you mean Otis Otis?”
    The bartender’s expression brightened. “You know him?”
    Joss did know Otis. As well as any student knew his teacher. As well as anyone knew their friend’s uncle. As well as any Slayer knew a vampire. He sipped his tea again, trying desperately to maintain his calm and casual appearance. “Yeah. I know Otis.”
    “Then you should meet my father. He and Otis go way back.” He gauged Joss for a moment, his smile pursing a bit, as if to say he could read Joss’s hesitance in his eyes. “Unless, of course, you and Otis aren’t exactly