Raze stole glances through his lashes, careful not to make eye contact with anyone. They’d been stopped at the city gate as Ella had predicted. The guard attempted to verify her story, but Ella’s contact hadn’t responded to his telepathic page. A line of impatient people formed behind them as the delay lengthened and finally the guard had approved them to enter D’arcy Aiden. They walked to one end of the long, narrow bar and waited for the bartender to approach. “Has Samauterra been in tonight?” she asked the sharp-featured barkeep. “I haven’t seen her in weeks. Is there something I can help you with?” Ella stepped closer to the bar and lowered her voice. “I’m selling not buying. And I prefer to deal with those familiar to me.” He shrugged. “If you’re going to hang around, you have to drink. I don’t tolerate loitering.” “Give us a pitcher of whatever you have on tap.” He grabbed a pitcher off the shelf behind him and filled it from the tap. “I thought vampires stuck to blood.”
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