friends.”
Joss shrugged. “I’m afraid we had a bit of a falling out in recent times.”
Falling out. What a nice way to refer to the fact that Joss had staked Otis’s nephew, Vlad, and then Otis had come after him.
No matter where Joss went, it seemed his past was eager to find him.
“A shame. You seem like a nice enough kid.” He shook his head, then widened his eyes in apology. “Sorry. I shouldn’t call you a kid when I don’t know your age.”
Joss knew a hint when he heard one. But he really had no realistic idea of how old vampires got. Eighty years? A hundred? Two hundred? A thousand? He had no way of knowing what would be a sensible guess. So he shrugged again and sipped his tea before glancing around the room. To anyone who wasn’t in the know, it would look just like any café. The people—the vampires—they just looked so human. So . . . normal. There was no surprise that vampires could blend in so well. “It’s okay. No offense taken. So V Bar is usually this busy during the afternoon?”
The bartender refilled Joss’s cup and replaced the lid, sliding the cup across the bar. “Depends. Today, as it happens, there’s a trial pending, so it’s busier than usual. I take it you’re not here for that?”
“No. I’m just visiting the city for a bit. Heard it was a pretty interesting place.” A vampire to Joss’s left lifted a coffee mug to his lips and sipped at the steamy contents. Joss shuddered inwardly at what those contents likely were.
The bartender leaned over the bar, dropping his voice to a conspiring tone. “You’re not one of us, are you, kid? You’re not . . . a vampire.”
It felt as if several hot coals had somehow become lodged in Joss’s throat. He swallowed them and they burned all the way down before landing in a heavy pile at the bottom of his stomach. The actor in him had fled the stage, leaving only a panic-stricken Joss behind. He met the bartender’s gaze and swallowed, his throat still burning. No words came to mind, nor did any escape his lips to explain what he was and what he was doing here. The realization that he might be on the verge of death settled on the edges of his being like rain on a windowpane. But he shook the thought away. Vampires, he had to keep reminding himself, could read minds. He wasn’t even safe inside his own head.
After a moment that seemed to linger for several minutes, the bartender shook his head slowly. “I won’t tell if you won’t. But you’ll find I’m one of the few who can’t get a good read on whether someone is human or vampire. Odds are the rest of them know all about you, including your thoughts. So why don’t you take your tea and get out of here before you get hurt?”
The burning in his throat lessened some but didn’t disappear completely. “I think that’s a smart idea.”
“Me too.” The bartender kept his eyes on Joss as he wiped the bar down with a moist cloth.
Joss bit the inside of his cheek, pinching the soft pink skin between his molars in thought. He wasn’t about to bring up Em, but he might be able to get some inside information from a man who talked to everyone about all sorts of things, a bartender. He leaned forward and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Before I go . . . do you know anything about a serial killer on the loose? Maybe a vampire . . . ?”
The bartender groaned and tossed the cloth behind him with a frustrated grunt. Then, inside Joss’s brain, he heard a voice. It was clear as crystal, but not at all coming from the bartender’s mouth.
“Great. A Slayer.”
The sound jolted him. He knew that vampires could hear humans’ thoughts, but he had no idea that it could possibly work the other way around. Doing everything he could to maintain his semi-cool demeanor, Joss raised one shoulder in a noncommittal shrug. “Let’s just say I’m a concerned citizen and leave it at that.”
The bartender raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You . . . you heard