“A bar?” Cassandra said.

“Yeah,” Aaron said through the cell phone speaker. “It’s a place where people go to relax, socialize, drink. Savannah will show you how to do it.”

“I’m quite familiar with bars,” Cassandra said. “It’s a necessary concept for anyone who has spent any amount of time with you. I have no objection to holding a meeting at a cocktail lounge or local pub. But this sort of place is highly inappropriate.”

“What sort of place is that?”

“One called The Meet Market, where I will be pawed by every overweight, fifty-year-old man who can’t attract the notice of any young thing and thinks I’ll be grateful for the attention.”

“Well, there is another place down the block. The Cougar’s Lair. Might be more your style.”

I laughed. When Cassandra didn’t reply, Aaron said, “Cass? Still with me?”

“Just . . . considering. What kind of clientele would this other establishment attract? Young urban professionals? Or big strapping farm boys? You know I like farm boys. Perhaps—”

“It’s set for The Meet Market.”

“Are you sure? Because—”

“Shut up, Cass.”

She chuckled. “I do believe you’re the one who made the suggestion.”

“The contact’s name is Eloise. I said you’d be by within the hour.”

Aaron gave us the rest of the instructions, then told Cassandra to “get him off the damned speakerphone.” After she did, they talked for a minute, Cassandra’s voice low, her gaze turned to the window.

I didn’t eavesdrop. There’s a lot of speculation about the nature of Cass and Aaron’s relationship, but to me, it’s obvious they’re lovers. Or lovers again, I should say. They’d first gotten together two hundred years ago, shortly after Aaron’s rebirth as a vampire.

That part about Cassandra liking younger guys? Big, strapping types? Let’s just say that I’m sure when Cass was alive, she was slipping out of the manor house for tumbles in the hay with the stable boys. When she found Aaron as a newly turned vampire, she must have jumped him like a starving dog on steak—an analogy I’ve used before, and one she really appreciates.

Whatever the physical attraction, though, there must have been more. A lot more. They’d been together for over a hundred years. Then Cassandra had betrayed him, leaving him behind as she escaped a mob. People say they can’t understand how she could do that. But I think I do.

I don’t know anything about Cassandra’s past. No one does. She’s not someone you’d go out for a beer with and casually say, “So, what was your life like before you turned?” If you did, you’d be answered with a stare cold enough to frost your glass. I know this, though—Cassandra is not a hereditary vampire. She chose this life, meaning she survived a transformation process that kills most people and drives the rest insane. I have a feeling it wasn’t about wanting immortality. It was about thumbing her nose at death and isolating herself from the rest of the world, choosing a life where you can’t make lasting relationships. With Aaron, she had a lasting relationship. So she severed the bond with a betrayal she thought he’d never forgive.

Only problem with that plan? She loved Aaron and she was miserable without him. Only an idiot couldn’t see that. Fortunately, Aaron understood her. Maybe even understood why she did it. It took him seventy-five years, but he’d forgiven her. For a long time, they’d only been friends. As Cassandra reached the final act of her vampire life, that had changed. I was sure of it. As discreet as they were, there was no hiding the fact that Cass was a whole lot happier these days. No less bitchy or opinionated, but happier in her misanthropy.

twenty-eight

I actually thought calling a bar “The Meet Market” was a clever play on the bar scene. If I owned a place like that, I’d do it up right. Lots of double entendre advertising. Decorate it seventies swinger style. Adorn the walls with old-school porn posters. Make it the kind of bar where you could hang out with your friends and not get hit on nonstop, because guys would feel cheesy doing it in a place that poked fun at the stereotype.

Apparently, the owner of The Meet Market and I did not share the same sense of humor. The name wasn’t tongue-in-cheek; it was truth-in-advertising.

The sign on the door advertised half-price drinks for “ladies” after ten.

“Damn,” I said. “We’re early. No, wait. Cass, you can still get a discount.” I pointed at a second sign, offering the same deal for any women participating in the hourly “wet T-shirt hosing.”

“Tempting,” she said. “But I’m wearing silk. You go ahead. I’m sure it wouldn’t be the first time.”

Before I could reply, a voice said, “Oh, she doesn’t need to worry about paying full price.” The bouncer waved us forward and whipped out a red band from his pocket. He caught my wrist and snapped it on. “There you go. The Meet Market special.”

“Um, okay.” I twirled the plastic band. “What is it?”

“The hottie bracelet.” He winked. “Half-price drinks all night for you, gorgeous.”

I turned to Cass. “Sorry.”

“Oh, no,” the bouncer said. “She gets one, too. There’s always a place at The Meet Market for someone a little more mature than our regular clientele.” He grinned. “And a lot more classy.”

He reached for Cassandra’s wrist.

She yanked her hand back. “Put that thing on me at your peril.”

His grin grew. “Classy and sassy. I like it.”

“Oh, trust me, you wouldn’t like it,” I said as I steered Cassandra past him. “Her bite is a lot worse than her bark.”

As we entered the bar, I leaned down to whisper in her ear, “I think you could have gotten lucky.”

“I wouldn’t consider that luck.”

“Oh, come on. Big. Brawny. Young. Not blond, but a wig would fix that.”

“Nothing could fix that.”

I laughed. Gazes shot my way. Chest first, face second, wrist third. A few guys broke from their packs and started to swoop in.

“What, they need a wristband to confirm that I’m hot?” I said.

“I suspect it serves the dual purpose of confirming that you’re available.”