Page 30 of The Sinner and the Gunslinger
“‘Course you can, darlin’.”
“And my twelve-gauge is here for all the other times. But, heck. Sure is busy today.”
“Ain’t that the truth. Must be almost a full house. Say, where’s that handsome fella of yours? He should be out here helping.”
“Pete’s on delivery. Tried to squeeze in a last one before it’s too late. Didn’t think the bar would get packed so early.”
“Hey, lady!”
“Talk later, Joe.”
Mary Sue straightened her shoulders and strode down the length of the bar to meet the waiting customers. One wore a leather jacket with the colors of the local motorcycle gang. He was a big red-haired brute who chewed tobacco like it was made from the Lord’s own personal stash. Two of his buddies wore plain T-shirts and stained jeans but had gang colors on their bandanas. More stragglers leaned on the bar and smoked cheap cigars. All look like they’d walked straight off the cocaine boat with that wired look in their eyes.
“Who’s next?” she asked as the bell over the door rang.
The smell of fresh pine wafted in.
Not another customer.Any more, and they’d be sardines in a can.
Big Red tossed a crumpled bill onto the bar, signaling he was next in line, no matter who stood there first. A whistled tune floated over their heads. It was jaunty yet simple. And it caught the attention of everyone in the room. But Mary Sue didn’t have time to pay attention. Too many customers.
Suppose I can’t complain. Money is money,she thought.
“Who’s next?” she asked again, ignoring Big Red’s tossed cash. Money was money, but the least they could do was look her in the eye, ask nicely, and hand it to her like a decent human being.
“That would be me.” A deep, cultured voice cut through the din. It traveled over the heads of the bikers and sent shivers skating down Mary Sue’s spine.
“Wait your turn, asshole,” Big Red grumbled without turning. He flicked ash from his cigar onto the bar, then clicked his fingers at Mary Sue and pointed at the dropped cash. Before he could get another word out, blood dribbled from his eyes. Then his nose. And his ears. When Big Red flopped to the floor, Mary Sue saw a tall dark-haired—and obscenely handsome—man behind him. Dressed in an expensive-looking business suit, he whistled his jaunty tune like he had no care in the world. Or he was a loony.
Definitely not a local.
Big Red’s biker friends aimed guns at the newcomer, but their eyes bled too.What in the Lord’s name?
One by one, they fell like dominos. The whistling newcomer stepped over their twitching bodies to get closer to the bar. Somewhere, in a far-off place in her mind, Mary Sue knew she should be terrified. But she couldn’t muster the fear. It was frozen in a faraway place that screamed for her to run. All she could think about was this handsome stranger’s face and how she would do anything to please him.
“Are you the descendent of Sarah, Daughter of Raguel?”
“Beg your pardon?” She blinked.
“Sweetheart, repetition is tedious.”
“I... I don’t know who you’re talking about.” She just wanted to please him. To answer correctly.
He cocked his head, studying her. Then he leaned across the bar countertop and inhaled deeply. His upper lip curled in a snarl, and he straightened back up with a vicious flash in his dark eyes. “I smell her blood in you. She imprisoned me for millennia. And you, my dear, are her spawn. I won’t stop until you’re all eradicated from this earth. But first, you’re going to tell me who helped her.”
“Sarah from the laundromat?” Mary Sue felt warm liquid ooze down her legs.
“Not to worry,” he drawled. “Your blood will remember.”
“Wh-what?”
His eyes turned wholly black—completely soulless—and Mary Sue finally had the sense to scream.
Fifteen
Leila
“Enjoy the ride, bitch,” Thea says as I pass her cell door in the hallway, a sugar cookie wedged between my teeth.
