Summit at Sunset (Sunset Vampire Series, Book 3) (11 page)

He stole glimpses into the mirror behind the bar across from him, using it to mark people quickly.

“Smart kid,” she complimented. “Bonus points for using your head with the mirror there.”

He spent the better part of the next hour nursing two beers and picking out characters he thought looked particularly dangerous. His attention fell upon a large-framed, bearded man wearing an old denim Harley Davidson jacket. He had a weathered face and a faded scar across the left side of his jaw. A medium-framed woman hung on one of his arms as he stood talking to a short biker before him. The woman wore a scowl on her face and had some streaks of gray in her long, black hair. Her hard brown eyes momentarily caught Caleb’s.

“The fellow with the woman hanging off his arm,” Caleb noted. “He’s dangerous for sure.”

Paige took two seconds to scout the individuals and turned her head to look at him over her left shoulder. “Nice pick,” she complimented. “But he’s not the dangerous one. The woman is.”

He vision flashed to the mirror to study the woman at greater length.
What am I missing?

“Look at her eyes,” she suggested. “They’re hard and cold. Bet you she’s the one who gave him the scar on his jaw.”

That surprised him. “You think?”

She smirked. “I know. Seen that look before, but it’s been a while.”

“Yeah? On who?” he asked following a swig of beer.

Paige paused and took a drink. “Katrina. She used to look a lot like that. But not for a while. At least, not since she found you, anyway.”

He frowned at Paige. He wouldn’t have guessed that his mate would have maintained such a cold, hard expression. And yet he was content to learn that Katrina seemed happier as of late.

Maybe I can take a little credit for some of that
, he speculated.

“Hey, Blondie,” called a gruff voice from across the room near the pool tables.

Paige panned the room with a bored expression until her eyes rested upon a burly, gray-bearded fellow wearing faded jeans and a dark t-shirt commemorating a biker rally from nearly twenty years prior. The fellow was missing two bicuspids, and his scraggly gray hair was tied back into a pony tail.

“Why doncha ditch that young old man of yours for a game of eight ball?” the grizzled fellow challenged.

A middle-aged woman with graying hair also pulled back into a tight pony tail and wearing faded jeans and a leather vest cackled. She sat on a barstool against the wall and just behind the man that had beckoned to Paige.

“Don’t worry, honey, he’s mine.” She cackled again. “The old bear’s tired of us beating his ass, so he’s looking for fresh blood.”

Her eyes momentarily widened at the reference to blood.
Old blood tastes just as good as new blood
, she resolved.

She looked at Caleb, who shrugged in return. “Watch and learn,” she whispered as she thumped her beer bottle onto the bar behind her.

The short vampire headed across the crowded room towards the pool tables. Caleb watched as Paige dissected the old guy through two games of pool amidst chastisements, hard looks, and scowls. She was a mix of edgy charm and playful banter as she kept the mood light despite the man’s overt exasperation. In the end, Paige pocketed no less than sixty dollars in friendly bets from the small crowd.

“Well, I’ll be gone to hell,” the man groused as he handed over his portion of the wager.

She flashed a grin in her classic sprite-like manner and bent up to kiss the old man playfully on the cheek.

“Thanks for the spending money, Grandpa,” she quipped. “Blondie needs more sewing supplies, after all.”

A roar of laughs erupted from the crowd as she turned to depart. The old woman sitting nearby cackled a laugh and teased, “That’ll teach you, ya, old bear! Now grab what’s left of your pride, and let’s head back to the house.”

The older couple said their goodbyes and made their way past Paige. The old woman leaned towards her and congratulated, “I watched you, Blondie. Thanks for not shamin’ him too bad. He’s a pretty good one, after all.”

She winked at the woman, who followed the man across the room to exit the bar. A new batch of people made their way to the vacant pool table and began setting up for a new game.

Paige turned to walk across the bar back towards Caleb, but a rough-looking man in his early thirties at the table next to her reached out to clutch her arm.

“How’s about a drink with your biggest fans?” he chortled as the four other men around the table chuckled.

She sneered down at him with contempt. “How about you get to leave without a broken nose?”

“Hey, mouthy bitch! I’m just bein’ friendly!” he spat as he jerked on her arm again.

She reached out with her free hand, grabbed his beer, and poured it over his head in a flourish. “Beer’s on you then!” she retorted while using the distraction to pull her arm free from his grip.

The other men roared with laughter, but the fellow was less than amused, and he flew up out of his chair to launch himself at Paige. Caleb saw the entire scene develop from his vantage point at the bar and leapt up from his barstool towards the fray. Two of the men at the table immediately jumped up to intercept him.

The beer-soaked biker furiously reached out for Paige, but she grinned at him evilly as she firmly latched onto his belt. The burly man leered at her until she lifted him by the belt and slammed him onto the rickety wooden table, which collapsed under his weight as his face registered shock. The two men across from him nearly fell out of their chairs to avoid being caught beneath the table.

Caleb was halfway to them when one of the two bikers approaching him swung at his head with a balled fist. He neatly dodged the swing, only to bury one shoulder into the gut of the other biker. The man staggered backwards from the force of the blow, but the first biker had already recovered and grabbed Caleb’s arms from behind to pin them. While trying to jerk free from the man’s grip, Caleb slammed one foot down against the biker’s instep. A curse was emitted in response, but the second biker was already ramming one fist into Caleb’s gut, taking his breath.

Most bar patrons watched with astonishment while Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers’ “I Won’t Back Down” blasted over the wall-mounted speakers. Paige quickly noted Caleb’s plight and darted to him in a blur. She grabbed the back of the neck of the biker preparing to punch Caleb again and slammed his forehead against the bar counter.

Meanwhile, Caleb managed to pull one arm free and slammed his elbow back into the nose of the fellow behind him. The biker yelped and cursed as his hands went to his face, where blood was freely flowing from his nose.

The two men formerly sitting at the collapsed table launched themselves at Caleb and Paige. One of them solidly punched at Paige and managed to land a glancing blow against her jaw. The vampire’s head twisted to the side from the impact but quickly recovered. Her irises glowed bright blue and her jaw was clenched as she thrust the flat of one hand forwards into the man’s chest. His body flew up off the floor and sailed fifteen feet across the room to land against one of the old pool tables.

Caleb saw the other man’s fist already heading for his face and quickly dodged the blow, causing the biker’s fist to slam against the edge of the bar. A cry mixed with anger and pain erupted as Caleb followed with a quick punch to the side of the man’s head. But the fellow was hearty and swiftly recovered with a swing at Caleb with his uninjured hand. Fortunately, Caleb anticipated that and countered with a simultaneous punch to his throat and foot sweep, sending the man to the floor.

However, he failed to anticipate a barstool hitting him on the back. Caleb fell forward against the bar before two rough sets of hands threw him to the filthy floor. He grabbed at one man’s leg in an attempt to unbalance him, but was quickly distracted by alternating volleys of boots kicking at his ribs. He involuntarily curled up, wrapping his arms around his torso to protect himself as best as possible.

The rough character who started the affair and whom Paige had initially slammed onto the table charged at her like a bull in a roar of anger. But she used his momentum against him, deftly stepping aside and grabbing him with both hands as he lurched past her. She lifted him bodily into the air and threw him across the room to her left, where he crashed into the stereo system against the wall.

All music ceased, and Paige turned to where Caleb was being kicked in the side by the two men towering over him. She swiftly punched one fellow in the kidneys, causing him to collapse backwards to the floor with a pained groan. She grabbed the other thug by the neck and propelled him to the floor like a rag doll. A swift kick to his head rendered the man unconscious.

The room fell silent as the sound of a gun being cocked was easily registered by Paige’s keen hearing. The biker whom she had thrown onto the far pool table defiantly brandished a chrome revolver in his right hand. Her blazing eyes bored into the man, and his mouth went agape as his eyes pensively widened with shock.

He fired two rounds.

Paige instantly darted to her left to grab a pool cue from a stunned biker standing near her. The bullets harmlessly impacted the bar behind her as she flung the cue across the room at her assailant. The larger end caught the biker in the throat, and the pistol harmlessly dropped from his hand as he gagged. He grasped at his throat while collapsing to his knees.

The room seemed to freeze in time as complete silence prevailed. Nobody moved as Paige used a single motion with her arm to pull Caleb to his feet next to her. Small gasps of surprise and hushed whispers began to fill the room as she quickly inspected him for damage. She was hopeful that he had escaped serious injury.

“Caleb?”

“I’m okay,” he dully mumbled, though he rubbed at his chest and ribs where the bikers had kicked him. He knew he would feel like hell the next morning, but he felt fortunate given the scope of the brawl that had erupted.

Paige reached into her jacket, withdrew a large roll of cash, and slapped it onto the bar before the bartender, who held a small sawed-off shotgun in his hands. Her baleful eyes burned into his, and he quickly lowered it and laid it on the bar counter.

He swallowed hard as he surveyed the wad of cash before him. She nodded once at him, and he nodded his head in silent understanding. The take before him was likely more than the bar made on even a good weekend and would more than pay for any damages.

“Come on, kiddo. Time to head home,” she quietly insisted, reaching out to wrap her arm around his waist.

She gently began herding him in the direction of the exit, careful not to squeeze his side too tightly.

The room parted like the Red Sea for Moses, and a number of faces shone in complete astonishment as the two passed by. They made it to the exit, which Paige surveyed with her senses to ensure that nobody lay in wait for them just outside.

She removed her arm from around him and instructed, “Wait outside for me, tiger. Holler if you need me.”

He slowly shuffled through the open door to the porch beyond. Everyone watched with confusion at Paige’s treatment of the young man, as if not quite sure how to reconcile what they had seen and heard.

She ominously turned to address the room. “Are we finished here, or is there unsettled business for me to wrap up?”

After a moment of silence, a young biker across the room piped up, “Are you talking to
all
of us?”

“Yeah,” she evenly replied with slightly pulsating irises, standing like a statue as she pored over the faces in the room.

“Son of a bitch,” whispered a shocked voice out of the silence.

“Nope, we’re all good here,” insisted the bartender from behind the bar in a tight voice. “Nobody saw nothin’.”

“Good,” she replied and turned to leave.

“Hey,” called the bartender.

Paige froze then pivoted her head to stare back over her shoulder at him. “Yes?”

“Uh, maybe you could drink somewhere else from now on?”

One corner of her mouth upturned slightly. “Sure, it’s the least I can do.”

Then she turned to walk straight out of the bar, hearing audible exhales of relief from behind her as she crossed the threshold.

What a lovely freakin’ night
, she ruminated.

Caleb looked up expectantly at her as she reached the base of the bar’s porch steps.

“Let’s mount up, kiddo,” she beckoned, though he was already beside her, matching her stride for stride.

As they reached the cycle, she mischievously turned to him. “So, what do you think of Supergirl now?”

“What?”

“Er, never mind.”

“Just so you know, the guy who pulled the gun back there was on my ‘dangerous list’ earlier,” he offered while glancing back to the bar.

She looked at him with approval. “Good boy.”

He chuckled, but the pain that shot through his ribs caused him to groan. She observed him with concern as she handed him his helmet.

A number of patrons gathered on the rickety front porch to watch as the two of them put on their helmets and mounted the cycle. The engine roared to life, and Caleb’s arms automatically wrapped around Paige’s waist.

Moments later, they were back on the main road headed back towards Mableton.

“I thought you said they were all weekend-wannabes?!” Caleb shouted.

“Most were!” she shouted before gunning the engine into high gear. She immediately appreciated the firm feeling of his arms tightening around her.

I’m really proud of Caleb
, she mused.

Then another, darker thought crossed her mind.

Katrina’s going to kill me
, she dreaded.

As they proceeded home, Caleb reflected on how, despite some setbacks, his latest bar excursion had come out much better than the one that he and Gil had endured. Of course, the fact wasn’t lost on him that having a vampire with him certainly altered the equation. But then, he felt he had handled himself fairly well, given the number of combatants. Certainly, he was much less injured than after his previous bar brawl.

Kat’s training has really made a difference
, he credited, even as the achiness in his chest and ribs increased by the moment.