My Blood on Your Lips, Your Money in My Bra

Chapter 20: The Easy Way Out

I eyed the werewolf across the table coolly as I took a sip of my coffee, black with eight packets of sugar stirred in. The male was staring at his full glass of Pepsi with serious blue eyes. He was slumped over slightly, like a man who needed nothing more than to rest for a while, and his aura was so filled with anxiety that even I could feel it, though I was not linked to werewolves in any way. I set the mug on the table amidst a pile of spilled sugar and sat up a bit straighter, preparing to speak.

"So, what do you want?"

His eyes darted to me, and he seemed alarmed for an instant. That sudden shock seemed to fade away, rapidly replaced by the same seriousness that had filled his countenance before. "It's not hard to guess."

"You still want me, then?" I ran a finger slowly down my glass's handle, then around its rim.

The male nodded only once. "Yes, but not entirely for the same purpose as before."

My hand fell away from the mug and I allowed my eyebrows to raise as a sign of interest. "Oh?"

His eyes went back to his glass, following a droplet of water from the condensation to the table. "Terrence is dead, as you well know," he began, his voice soft to keep anyone from overhearing us. There were only the waitresses and two older couples in the restaurant, however, surprisingly little business for the local Applebee's. "I thought that his death might stop the feud between my werewolves and his vampires, but it hasn't. It's only made it worse."

"And you can tell this when he's only been dead for a short time?" I questioned, puzzled.

"Yes." His eyes met mine again, narrowing in anger. "The new leader, James, ordered an attack on a group of werewolves early this morning. An entire family was slaughtered in their own home, and they had only vague ties with my clan."

"And you want me because...?" I trailed off, awaiting an explanation.

"You can fight vampires. I watched you do it last night to protect that other necromancer. You can help the werewolves win this war against a foolish group of vampires who don't even know what they're fighting for anymore."

"And I-" I stopped when a waitress approached our table, smiling as she placed our food before us. She eyed me curiously, just as she had when she'd first taken our orders, trying to fathom the reason for my bloody, beaten-up state. I thanked her shortly, and she left without a word. I continued. "And I wouldn't just be a blood slave for your clan?"

The werewolf dropped his eyes to the rare steak that had been placed before him, alone on a plate. Softly, almost regretfully, he gave me my answer. "We would pay you well if you would agree to share your blood with my brother as well."

"Why only your brother?" I asked, allowing my gaze to fall to the apple walnut chicken salad before me. I picked up my fork and got myself a piece of chicken.

"The rest of us don't need blood the way he does," the werewolf informed me, still speaking in that quiet, gentle tone. "And we can't keep letting him hunt humans. He's killed six already, and the police will eventually find out. If they take him..." He trailed off, but the sorrow in his last words allowed me to fill in the rest of the sentence.

"Won't he kill me, too?" I asked as I fetched another bite of chicken.

"He's promised to try to keep you alive, but you know as well as I do that an animal after blood can't always control himself." My eyes darted to his hand as he picked up his steak knife. I knew he wouldn't do anything in a restaurant, especially since he needed my help, but the instinct was still there. Besides, how was I to know that he wasn't one of the animals he spoke of?