They passed him by, their gazes glued to the dancing Indian, who was down to his last two feathers.
Ian sighed. What was the world coming to when a man with honorable intentions had to compete with a male stripper? How could he impress these modern lassies? Maybe Vanda could advise him. With her purple spiky hair and spandex clothing, she'd become a very modern woman. And a very successful one since Vamps were teleporting from the West Coast to come to her club.
Ian settled on a stool at the bar and received a bright smile from the bartender. Miss Cora Lee Primrose no longer wore hoop skirts and her blonde hair in ringlets, but she still sounded like a Southern belle from the Civil War.
"Hey there," she greeted him. "How'd you like to try the latest thing in Fusion Cuisine?"
"There's something new?" He'd been away for too long.
"Yep. It's called Bleer. Synthetic blood mixed with--"
"Beer?"
Cora Lee looked disappointed. "You've already had it?"
"Nay. Lucky guess. I'll take a glass." Ian removed a fiver from his sporran and set it on the counter while she filled a glass with amber liquid. The aroma of blood and yeast made his mouth water. By all the saints, it had been centuries since he'd tasted beer.
"Here you go." Cora Lee set the glass in front of him.
He took a long drink, then licked the reddish foam off his lips. "Excellent."
She grinned. "Glad you like it. Are you new in town?"
Bloody hell. He had thought her initial smile meant she recognized him, but she hadn't. He took another gulp of Bleer to ease the sting. Cora Lee had been in Roman's harem for fifty years, living in the same house where Ian lived and worked as a guard. Had he changed that much?
"It's me, Ian."
Her blue eyes widened. "Ian?"
"Aye. Ian MacPhie."
"You can't be Ian. He's just a young'un."
He glowered at his glass of Bleer. It was a wonder he hadn't gone crazy from being treated like a child for five centuries. "Ye used to ask me to help tighten yer corset. Ye must have thought I was too young to be eyeing the curve of yer hips or the way the corset pushed yer breasts--"
"Why, I never!" Cora Lee stepped back.
"Nay, no' with me, that's for certain."
She huffed. "I would never bed a child."
"I'm three hundred years older than you," he growled.
She tilted her head to study him. "I do declare, your eyes bear a remarkable resemblance to Ian's." "That could be because I am Ian."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure. Who else would I be?"
She gave him a suspicious look. "It's just that...I don't recall you being so..."
"Charming?"
"Grumpy." She sighed. "Ian was such a well-mannered and friendly boy. I was quite fond of him, really."
"Bloody hell, I dinna die. I just look twelve years older now."
"Land sakes. How did you do that?"