When it was dimmed out and packed with people, the beat bumping and drinks flowing, there was always an electrical charge in the air, a sizzling, buzzy excitement. Like this? It was downright depressing, the scuffs on the black floor and the scrapes on the black walls, the smell of bleach as surfaces were cleaned, the worn-out staff counting bottles behind the mile-long bar, the kind of behind-the-curtain that reminded you image was not everything.
No shit, she thought with exhaustion—
“You did a good job tonight.”
Lyric glanced over her shoulder. Even Marcia was subdued, but sure as the sun would set over Caldwell again in another fifteen hours, the Energizer media manager would be back on her A game soon enough.
Maybe she plugged herself in like a cell phone on her time off.
“Thanks,” Lyric murmured as she refocused on the club’s front exit.
“You serious about ending all this?” The woman paused as they finally got to the main door. “You’re a natural, and you’re just starting to get real traction.”
She tried to remember any part of the event. A conversation. A person. A glance. Hell, she was even blanking on her father and brother stopping by. But they had come… hadn’t they?
Lyric rerolled the sleeve on the construction worker’s coat. “I am serious, yes. But I appreciate everything you did for me, especially tonight.”
“You’re welcome.” Marcia shrugged as she opened things, the cold rushing in. “And I’ll do what I can to get you out of the Resolve2Evolve thing. No promises.”
“Something tells me you’ll make it happen.” Lyric offered a smile as they stepped out. “You can get things done, for sure.”
“It’s my only virtue—at least according to my mother, who wanted me married three years ago and working on baby number two by now.” Marcia glanced around at the empty, snowy street. “Where’s your car?”
“Oh, that’s okay.” She looked up to where the billboard had been mounted. Tendrils of the scaffolding were still in place, metal whiskers on the building’s square head. “I’m taken care of.”
The woman looked pointedly at the heavy coat. “Better not let your boyfriend see you in that.”
Lyric’s stare drifted to the construction site as she brought the rough lapels in closer to her throat. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
There was a pause. And then Marcia’s eyes narrowed. “You’re going to take that thing back to him tonight. Aren’t you.”
Before Lyric could pull a response out of her butt, a forefinger was right in front of her face. “Now, listen, you have to be careful in this big city. A split-second lifesaver doesn’t make him a saint. Do you haveMace? Of course you don’t.” Marcia rummaged around in her purse and shoved a tube forward. “Here, you take this. Don’t be afraid to use it. It’s not legal, but who cares—and don’t go back to that construction site.”
“It’s his coat.”
“Put it in the back of your closet and let it be a memento of tonight. Or what your career could have been.”
“I’m just going to do the right thing—”
“No, you’re looking for an excuse to get killed.” Marcia got her keys out and started striding away while she talked over her shoulder. “Call an Uber and go home. Woman like you, out on the street this late? Nothing good comes of it. Don’t you get the news on your phone? Jesus Christ…”
One block down, the lights on an Audi flashed.
Lyric waited where she was in the cold wind as Marcia got into the SUV, started the car, and took off down Market, a lone set of red taillights disappearing around a skyscraper.
“Annnnd that’s all she wrote.” She looked down at the little canister. “Oh, bear repellent.”
In case you didn’t pick the man, evidently.
Wonder what MAR-see-ah would’ve thought if she knew she’d given the stuff to a vampire—
The unsettled wind whipped around her, like it was looking to have another crack at taking her out with a projectile, and she had a sudden foreboding that made her want to be home already.
Running her hands up the coarse fabric, she took a deep breath. The scent of the man was still on the material, and as it registered in her nose, she stepped off the curb like her name had been called. With choppy strides, she crossed the slushy lanes and thought of Rhamp. She could only imagine what her brother would say about her new security blanket—she’d never hear the end of it. One more reason to give the thing back to its rightful owner—
Lyric slipped and pulled some bad dance moves to keep on her feet. As she recovered her balance, she stopped, even though she wasn’t anywhere near the mile-high snowbank she’d been gunning for.
“Well… crap.”
