during the seventh-inning stretch.
I headed in that direction. Even Jessie couldn't get mad at me for investigating with Damien at my side.
What better backup than a werewolf? Too bad I couldn't tell her that.
Stepping inside the tavern, I frowned. The place was empty, except for the shoes, wallets, purses, keys, and little piles of clothing.
My fingers tightened on my rifle. Their lair had been here all the time.
Damien had to have known. Why hadn't he told me?
Of course, I hadn't asked. Who'd have suspected they were changing right underneath my nose? Talk about hiding in plain sight.
My plans changed. I'd just sit down and wait for them to come back.
I thought of how many I'd kill tonight. Maybe even Hector, though I doubted it. He wouldn't be dumb enough to show his face here.
So why was my scar burning as if it were a fresh, new wound?
"Waitin' for someone?"
I gasped and spun toward the bar. Cowboy stood on top, leering, snarling, or whatever the hell it was he did with his lip.
"Uh, yeah, well, I was looking for Damien."
Cowboy narrowed his eyes. "He ain't around."
"I see that."
"Yer not gonna ask why everyone's clothes are all over the floor?"
"Why?"
He snorted. "You know why."
Cowboy jumped off the bar, his boots clicking on the wood floor as he meandered toward me. I kept my hands on my guns, my eyes on his face. I'd crossed him off as a werewolf long ago, but maybe that hadn't been such a bright idea. I'd figured if he was a shifter he'd have cured whatever ailment had made him a midget in the first place. But maybe he hadn't. Maybe he liked being small. Maybe it got him ignored.
He stopped only a foot away from me. "I got some-thin' to show you."
He began to unbutton his shirt. I backed toward the door. "Uh, no thanks."
He smiled. "You don't mind seeing Damien's chest, but you don't want to see mine?"
"That about sums it up."
"Believe me, Leigh, you're gonna want to see this."
Somehow I doubted that. I reached for the doorknob. My hand touched the brass just as Cowboy's shirt fell open.
The pentagram tattoo on his breastbone gleamed black against his pale, smooth skin. I couldn't move.
Couldn't breathe.
I lifted my gaze from his chest to his face. His eyes were weird - water flowing under dark ice. I stood there staring as Cowboy's black irises turned blue.
"Oh, God," I whispered.
His face was flowing now, the skin rippling like Silly Putty. I could see another face beneath, fighting to get out.
Was he getting taller? Broader? When had Cowboy grown a goatee?
The tavern spun. Tiny black spots flickered in front of my eyes. I fought the weakness, but it didn't do any good.
"Querida," he murmured. "I've missed you."
I passed out cold at the toe of itty-bitty boots, which had suddenly burst open at the seams.
Chapter 33
I woke up in the dark. Someone was carrying me. I knew who that someone was, even without the aching, burning agony of my back.
I wanted to struggle, but I fought the urge. Better to let him think I was still out. Maybe I could surprise him and...
I wasn't sure what.
The air was cool on my face. We were inside, but not a building. I heard a shoe scrape dirt, then crunch something dry and old.
Like a bone.
Hell. The mine. I guess I was going to see what lay behind that pile of human bones.
"You can stop pretending. I know you're awake."
His voice slid out of the night like a slowly slithering snake. I lifted my head, but I couldn't distinguish anything in a darkness so complete it pressed against my skin like velvet.
His voice had always been seductive, soothing. Even now, when I knew the truth, that voice could still make me want to do things that were illegal in several southern states.
I gave myself a mental slap. He had bartered the lives of everyone I'd ever loved. He had sold his soul to the dark side.
I wished I had a light saber and a good connection to the force.
I'd have to make do with my hands and my wits. I didn't think they were going to be enough.
A light flickered up ahead. Dim, wavering, like a candle around a corner. I could see the low ceiling, the ancient wooden pillars, the dust, dirt, a few bones. If I wanted to, I could turn my head and see his face.
I just didn't want to.
"Put me down," I ordered.
He ignored me and kept walking