Page 44 of Heathens

In an instant, Rene is on his feet, a hand already holding me tight by the neck. He pulls me across the table and gets right in my face with an ugly sneer. There’s decay on his breath, sickly sweet and hollow. I’m reminded of a rotting corpse and resist the urge to gag. I don’t want to give him an inch.

“I own this fucking city and I could crush you and your friends in a heartbeat.” He sinks a claw into my neck, slicing into my skin. My chin trembles and tears pool in my eyes, but I refuse to show him any fucking fear, even as blood runs down my skin. He sniffs at the air and leans in closer and closer until his forehead is pressed against mine. “The only thing you’re worthy of is bleeding for me, you pathetic little cunt.”

The mocking laughter at the table nearly overwhelms me, and my throat aches, holding back all the words lodged just behind my tongue.

“Now, do your job, and get me my fucking drink.”

He releases me, but I’m frozen in fear, staring at the piece of human jaw bone that hangs from a chain around his neck. In the year we’ve been doing this, it’s the first time I’ve been truly terrified like this. In my own bar.

One of his men snaps his fingers in front of my face, a sneer lingering on his lips.

“Did you hear him, bitch?”

I draw in a breath, and with trembling arms I push myself off of the table. My wrist aches, and I glance down to see a bright red handprint adorning it like a bracelet.

“One drink, and then you leave,” I reply, keeping my voice as steady as I can.

He chuckles.

“Of course. You’re the boss, after all.”

I turn on the ball of my foot, storming through the crowd. When I reach the bar, Kirby’s eyes are bouncing between Rene and I. Everyone looks as terrified as I feel, and I sniff tears away.

“Are you okay?”

“Five shots of O negative,” I snap. “Get Bobby to bring it to his table. I don’t want you going anywhere near him. Once they’re finished, I want them fucking gone. I don’t care if they have to be tossed out of here.”

My voice is still shaking, along with the rest of me. But I won’t break. I can’t.

We never say it out loud, but we all know why I can’t just kill Rene right now, and why Ares is standing by the door looking petrified. Deschamps is the most dangerous and powerful vampire in this city, and saying no to him is a death sentence, even here with all our rules.

We might have made deals with him, but he’s more than willing to break them to get what he wants. He doesn’t respect the humans in this city, at least not enough to give us a real say in how things are run. Deschamps has all the money and power. Why should he ever let us call the shots?

Kirby pours drinks, and Bobby is there in an instant, carrying the tray to Rene’s table. I slip behind the bar, feeling a little more secure as I stand between Kirby and Ruby, both of them reaching down to squeeze each of my hands.

“What did he say to you?” Ruby asks.

“Something about bleeding for him.” I let out a ragged sigh. “Not the most original insult I’ve heard, but…”

“He’s terrifying,” Kirby rasps, her eyes fixed on Rene as he takes small sips out of his shot glass. “He was gonna kill me the other night. I could feel it.”

Ruby hangs her head, the guilt weighing her down.

“I’m sorry, Kirby. We shouldn’t have let him in.”

“He would have found a way.” Kirby leans over the counter and smiles at Ruby. “Besides, you’re not allowed to apologize. You saved my life.”

She holds her head up high. I can still see the bite mark on her neck that’s been covered by makeup.

“I’m not gonna give that fucker the satisfaction of scaring me now.”

I squeeze her hand harder. Despite the bravado, she’s trembling.

“We just have to be cordial,” Ruby murmurs. “Give him what he wants, and he’ll leave.”

Rene winks at us from across the bar as he lifts what’s left in his shot glass and tosses it back. Bobby stands a short distance from their table, one hand on his gun. It feels like someone lit a stick of dynamite and we’re all just waiting for it to go off.

Bobby takes a step forward and Rene laughs, rolling his eyes as thoughhe’sthe victim. He gathers his group with a wave of his hand. As they get to their feet and head to the exit, Deschamps catches my eye one last time, giving me an exaggerated bow before he disappears out the door.

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