Page 35 of Heathens

She leans over the bar, a little smirk spreading across her face. I get a better look at the tattoos on her chest. A delicate lily near her shoulder with the nameCharliebeneath it, the ‘e’ just barely obscured by the strap of her dress. She’s got birds, and another large ornate flower that stops just at the base of her throat. Just like mine.

“Sure. Kinda late though, isn’t it?”

“I’m a very busy man.”

“And why should I care?”

Her mouth twitches, and I pull out another small bundle of bills from my wallet, sliding them across the table. It’s much more than the cost of a couple of drinks. She raises a brow.

“This is for…?”

“For a shot of A-positive, a bourbon, and the rest of the night on this barstool.”

I can tell she’s already annoyed. Maybe things didn’t quite go the way she expected last night.

“It’s only $80 for the drinks.”

“Think of it as an apology, Sofie.”

Her jaw ticks the moment she hears me use her name, but she’s silent as she collects the money and tucks it into her bra, only speaking up when it’s safely hidden away.

“An apology, huh?”

“That’s right.”

She pours my bourbon and a shot of blood, plunking both down in front of me. I take the blood first, dipping my pinky finger into it and gently sucking on it. It’s exquisite, much to my surprise, almost as good as getting it straight from the source. It reminds me of the old days when I was content with only drinking wine; I can taste and smell so much of the history behind the donor. This one, for instance: an avid runner. They eat their vegetables, but sometimes they like to indulge– whiskey, cigars, sex, even a bit of cocaine. That’s what gives it an extra kick.

I can’t help but wonder whatshetastes like.

“So, you think you can just buy your way out of leaving me high and dry last night?”

I take the shot of blood and toss the entire thing back, running my tongue over my fangs as I swallow.

“Have a drink with me,” I urge. “I’m buying, regardless.”

She puts a hand on her hip. I spot chipped nail polish and fingernails bitten down to the quick, skin still raw from where she’s torn it off.

“I told you last night, I don’t drink at work.”

So I can fuck her with her own gun outside of the club on her smoke break, but she won’t have a drink with me? How the fuck doesthatmake sense?

“You don’t drink at work, or you don’t drink with patrons?”

“You don’t give up, do you?”

Her attention is dragged away by another patron who slides up next to me, ordering a shot of B positive and a vodka tonic. Sofie is all business as she grabs glassware. Both of us get a good view of her ass as she turns around to grab a bottle of cheap vodka off the middle shelf. The vampire next to me grins and a snarl rumbles in my throat.

“Back off, motherfucker.”

He clears his throat and I casually sip my bourbon while she slides the drinks over. The newcomer is trembling a little as he hands her the cash, leaving a shitty tip as he walks away.

“If I have a drink with you, does it mean you’ll stop coming in and I can work in peace?”

Her voice is a little throaty, with a sultry and flirtatious edge to it. Every time she talks, I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and my cock gets a little harder.

I dig another hundred-dollar bill out of my wallet and stuff it into her cup. She stares at me, like she’s trying to figure me out.

“Is that what you want?” I ask.

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