“She never chains us to anything with those,” Doug said. “The leash is just a snap—”
“Get this fucking thing off me or I swear I will go down to Home Depot and buy a pair of metal clippers and snip the fucking thing off—”
“A little late for that,” Doug said. “You know, the twenty-four hour Home Depot dialed their hours back, so—”
“I know lots of welders, not to mention professionals specializing in body modification,” I said. “Somebody’s got something that will get this off—”
“Dakota! Dakota!” Savannah said, holding up her hands. “I’m so sorry. All right? Given our history, I didn’t think it would bother you so much.”
“We split because you started drinking blood which you did because—wait for it—-you never think!” I shouted. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were a guy always thinking with his dick—“
“Hey,” Doug said.
“Shut up, Pup,” Savannah and I said in unison.
Savannah studied me in the silence that fell. “Darkrose will be back in a couple of hours. We’ll take that lock off and give you a new one with the key, but… you need the collar. I wasn’t joking when I said it was the symbol of my house—if you don’t have it I can’t guarantee that other vampires won’t bite first—”
“You have to be kidding. You have to be kidding!”
Doug shook his head. “She’s not. Even I’ve been harassed by vampires, and they only quit after I showed them the collar—”
“Did you have to give a ‘sample’?” I asked.
Doug looked away, embarrassed. “Yes. I don’t give blood either.”
The intercom buzzed, and I jumped.
“Yes, what is it?” Savannah said.
“Lord Delancaster is here,” a man said, and I drew a breath. Delancaster was the vampire who made Savannah into Saffron. “He says you called upon him, Lady Saffron.”
“Tell him our crosses are uncovered, so we shall join him in the vestibule.”
“As you wish, Lady Saffron.” The intercom went dead.
Wonderful. The vampire who made Saffron. I’d never met him. Sight unseen, I despised him. And didn’t intend to hang around and do a polite little meet and greet now. “Alright,” I said. “Thank you, ‘Lady Saffron,’ for this damn visa, and for the lovely little show that left it locked around my neck. You go meet with your master, I’ll go meet with the werewolves, and we can talk about getting this off me when I get back—”
I turned to go, but Savannah raised her hand. “Wait, you can’t leave. We’re not done. Don’t you want my protection?”
I let out my breath. “At this point, no, not really. It’s not like every vampire you meet is a serial killer… but… damnit, I do still worry about the pesky few. You know this gang, you tell me—do I need your protection?”
Savannah sagged in her chair. “It’s on the west side,” she said, scanning the floor as she considered. “Yes, you do need it. I’m sorry. I’m sad to say, if you really want to be safe, you even need it in the vampire district, if people knew you were my ex—”
“Damn blood junkies,” I said.
“We’re trying to do better,” she said, leaning forward, almost pleading. “We really are. Lord Delancaster approves of our efforts. You’ll like him—”
“Not likely,” I said, “and in any case I’m not planning to stay and get chummy—”
“But you have to,” she said. “He’s the Lord of Georgia. He has to confirm my protection. You need his ‘ban’. The sample is for him—that’s why I summoned him.”
My jaw tightened. I counted to ten and reminded myself that if a vampire worried about where I was going, I needed protection. And this was from Savannah, who probably really did have my best interests at heart. Son of a bitch. “Of course I have to meet him. How stupid of me not to have realized. The hits just keep on coming,” I said. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Please don’t make a scene,” Savannah said. She got up and snapped for Doug to follow her. He started to crawl, and she muttered something, so he got onto his feet, which had the side effect of exposing his little cage again. Oy. The hits really did keep on coming.
Lord Reynold James Delancaster waited in the vestibule, the perfect parody of a modern vampire. His long silvery hair poured back over the soft brown cape and coat he had apparently stolen from Sherlock Holmes; one hand checked a pocketwatch, which he deposited back into the pocket of a