way rather reluctantly.
“Cold-blooded creep,” said one Were woman. She was built like an Amazon, broad shouldered. Dahlia would have loved to flash out a hand and bury it in the Were’s abdomen, but ladies didn’t do such things—not if they wanted the truce to hold.
Dahlia was proud of herself when she didn’t meet the woman’s eyes in challenge. Instead, Dahlia kept her gaze focused forward. Which is no hardship, she had to admit to herself, as she examined the curve of the butt moving in front of her. It certainly was a prime one, packed into the worn Levi’s in a most attractive way
Dahlia winced, realizing that she’d actually caught herself admiring a Were.
Her guide stepped aside, and Dahlia was relieved beyond measure to see Taffy sitting in a padded booth behind a round table with Don cuddling close to her right and another Were to her left. Dahlia barely kept her upper lip from drawing back in distaste. It was like seeing a racehorse cavorting with zebras.
“Dahlia!” shrieked Taffy. Her auburn curls were piled up on top of her head, and she was wearing a halter-top and blue jeans, as far as Dahlia could tell. Oh, really, Dahlia thought, exasperated, remembering the care she’d taken to dress correctly. Taffy looks like a real human. Probably trying to blend in. As if she could.
“Taffy,” Dahlia said, thrown seriously off track, “can we have a talk?” She didn’t even want to acknowledge Don. He was as redheaded as Taffy, but his hair was short and rough looking, like the coat of a terrier.
“Hey, beautiful!” Don said expansively.
Dahlia gave Don a stiff nod of greeting. She was no barbarian.
Don had a beard, and bright filaments of red stuck out from the neck of his golf shirt. Dahlia shuddered. She was glad to look back at Taffy.
“You still got that cold bitch thing goin’ on,” Don observed. “Doesn’t she, Todd?”
“She’s got it down pat,” agreed her guide. “Didn’t even bother to introduce herself.” Dahlia realized, with a pang, that the Were was correct. “She’s a brave little thing, though,” the Were went on. “Knocked me ass-backward.”
Don grinned approvingly. “People should do that more often, Todd. It seems to soften you up.”
While Dahlia tried to estimate how long it would take her to kill them all, Taffy was extricating herself from the booth, which seemed to involve a lot of unnecessary brushing against Don, with wriggling and kisses strewn in for good measure. This was the source of many teasing comments and much laughter from the assembled Weres.
I seem to be the only one who’s in a bad mood, Dahlia thought, and then without meaning to, her eyes met the tall Were’s again. Nope, Todd was less than happy, too. Dahlia wondered whether it was the engagement between Don and Taffy or her own intrusion that had triggered Todd’s irritation.
“This is my friend Dahlia Lynley-Chivers,” Taffy announced to the crowd of Weres. “She’s my maid of honor.”
There was a smattering of polite response. Dahlia inclined her head civilly. She couldn’t force a smile.
“Snotty-nose bitch,” muttered the other Were sitting in the booth. He had dark curly hair and a pugnacious attitude. “Having one in the bar at a time is enough.”
Dahlia’s tiny hand darted out and dug into the Were’s throat.
He gagged, his eyes going wide with shock and fear, and the atmosphere of the bar went into high gear.
“Dahlia!” said Taffy. “He didn’t know what he was saying, Dahlia. Please, for me.”
Dahlia released the dark-haired Were, and he collapsed against the wood of the booth, breathing heavily. There was an uneasy stirring among the denizens of the crowded bar.
“Thanks, honey,” Taffy murmured. “Let’s take this out on the sidewalk,
okay?”
Her back as straight and her head as high as ever, Dahlia followed Taffy out of the bar, looking neither to the right nor to the left, ignoring the growing chorus of growls that surged in her wake.
“Smooth move, Dahlia,” Taffy said, the words bursting out as soon as they were on the sidewalk.
“You were the one who invited me! If you weren’t the one engaged to that … that dog man … do you think I’d go inside such a place?”
“Where are the others?” Taffy lost her anger and looked a bit lost. Maybe she hadn’t been quite as comfortable as she’d seemed, being the only vamp in a crowd of Weres.
“Ah, they couldn’t make it.” Dahlia couldn’t think of any way to cushion the rudeness of Taffy’s other bridesmaids and her sheriff, Cedric.
Taffy