Page 32 of Dark Stars
That done, he went to go see about food. Ashe didn't keep much in the house, and he didn't want to leave Alejoalone, a grocery order was…well, in order. Oncethatwasdone, with instructions to just leave everything on the porch, hewent to get a shower.
He came out of the shower, still damp andflushed with heat, to find a vampire at his kitchen table. "Whatbrought you all the way out here?"
"Noise," Jones said, finishing his coffeeand pouring a fresh cup. "Lots and lots of chatter in theneighborhood."
Neighborhood meaning the supernatural world.Bobby poured his own cup of coffee and leaned against the countersipping it as he said, "I'd imagine so with cultists runningaround."
"Not just that. I've been hearing stuffabout your boy. The demon, the dumbass what originally summonedhim. I think two worlds are about to collide, and it's gonna beugly."
Bobby snorted in amusement. "What in theworld would worshippers of Shub-Niggurath care about a demon?They're far too arrogant to lower themselves to a being that isn'tprimordial, even an impressive demon like Leviathan."
"I'm more concerned about the fella whosummoned Leviathan to begin with. That boy getting mixed up withyour sort? Bad idea."
"He shouldn't be able to find Alejo, and ifhe does show up, he'll become a snack."
"Don't think your little brujo would likethat much."
"He's not brujo, and he'd never know."
"I can tell you from experience that neverends well. Don't murder, eat, or otherwise end the life of yourlover's exes without their knowledge and permission. Trust me onthat one."
"Fine," Bobby said, maybe pouting slightly,because if he could just eat the stupid bastard a lot of problemswould go away, but fine, he'd do it the human way. For now.
Jones' brow rose. "If he ain't brujo, whatis he?"
"Mine, but a combination of brujería andvodun that makes him wholly unique."
"Fair 'nough. I'd still be on alert, becausethe cult might not care about a lowly demon, but a demon sure ashell will care about arrogant, foolhardy humans, especially if it'sstill bound to the dumbass that started that whole mess." Hescowled pointedly at Bobby. "And that demon now has fresh, fairlygiven primordial blood."
Bobby touched his tongue to his top lipbefore grinning. "Awful stupid of someone to just hand over freshprimordial blood."
Jones stared hard another moment, thensighed. "You know what? I don't want to know. You got your warning.I've got shit to do that don't concern you and your mess—but if youdrag that damned cult here to Briden, I'll burn you like a witch ofold. Hear me?"
"I hear you. Where's Harold? I would havethought you'd both come to see me."
To his complete and utter shock, Jones'cheeks turned the faintest hint of dusty rose. "He's sleeping.We…had a rough night chasing a pack of redcaps and feralwerewolves."
Bobby eyed him thoughtfully. Redcaps andwerewolves, even feral ones hellbent on chaos, weren't enough toput Harold down for an entire night. But if they got into a badspot and a certain vampire got hungry… "So does his blood tastegood, Sheriff?"
"How 'bout you fuck all the way off, starworm?"
Bobby grinned and set to making breakfastfor the two of them—omelets, bacon, and biscuits. He also pulled abottle of blood from his fridge, setting it amongst the juice andfresh pot of coffee. All the while he recounted everything that hadtranspired since Jones and Harold had helped them at the hotel.
"What a fucking mess," Jones said as hefinished, wolfing down food between bites. "Cultists, rampagingmonsters, a pissed off demon skulking about, and who the hell knowswhat's going to show up next. Why can't I ever settle in nice,peaceful, quiet towns? I swear this one was when I started."
Bobby snorted. "The primordial undercurrentssay otherwise. You're a trouble magnet. Must be why you andHarold—"
"Shut your mouth," Jones said sharply.
Bobby froze with a bite of omelet halfway tohis mouth. That had been unusually harsh. Like he'd struck a nervethat Jones hadn't been happy to realize was there. "Jones, what'sreally going on?"
"Nothing," Jones said. "Nothing at all.Thank you for breakfast. I'll keep you apprised of anything I seeor hear." Then he was gone, as swiftly and quietly as a winterwind, leaving a chill in his wake.
Jones and Harold had always circled eachother, sniping and jabbing, stubbornly refusing to admit they wereflirting, that something burned between them. Now, though…he'dmissed something, and that something was hurting Jones.
One more problem on the list.
Gathering everything up, he cleaned thedishes and kitchen, then started on a stew that would simmer forseveral hours and some fresh bread. He wasn't usually much forcooking, but it was something that helped and soothed troubledhumans—and vampires—so he'd do it. Happily.
