Yonnie let out a long breath through his nose and studied his drink. "First of all," he said quietly, "you're system is so squeaky clean, right about through here, your ass is drunk. You been eating holistic, no red meat and shit, for months. That first bottle of Remy behind several martinis has your ass lit; the second one you're working on will probably make you pass out. Not advisable to be out of your element and in a zone like that. Sloppy."
"Man, I'm - "
"Second of all," Yonnie said, not allowing him to finish the slurred comment, "like I told you, there are no more openly vamp joints."
"Oh, yeah... you're right," Carlos bumped his glass against Yonnie's and then laughed. "Damn. What has the world come to?"
"Anybody left is in lair or underground," Yonnie said, not finding the humor in Carlos's comment. "A few scattered Thirds, maybe some Fourth gens and lower. Even the weres are keeping a low profile, since y'all blew up New York and Philly. No turns have been authorized while every seat at council is vacant, especially the Chairman's, but you can still get your ass beat down or killed." Yonnie straightened and tossed down the remainder of his new drink. "So, on that note, I think it's time for you to go home and sleep this night off."
"Man, the night is young," Carlos complained, glancing around the club. The music had become his pulse, even though it gave him a headache. Booty was everywhere, the joint was jumping, and the last place he wanted to go was back to the shack with the team.
"You're married. That's all I'ma say." Yonnie rubbed his chin and folded his arms over his chest.
"Like you ain't?" Carlos smiled.
"That's different," Yonnie said, reaching for his flask. "You and D are heart-to-heart; me and Tara have an arrangement."
"You with her every night, then - "
"You got it all wrong," Yonnie said, easing his flask next to his empty glass. "Only when necessary." He stared at Carlos.
"C'mon, man," Carlos said, abandoning his drink. "Be serious."
"I am serious," Yonnie said, his voice so low that it was hard to hear it. "She only comes to me when it gets like that, when she's missing him real bad... you know what I mean?" Yonnie shook his head. "She can't actually be with him anymore, since I elevated her to a strong second - it's not like when she was a Fourth-gen. Her bite is lethal, literally, since no turns are authorized. This time he won't even come back with fangs, and I can't make any new friends so I can leave her alone. The broads at Gabrielle's... hey. They ain't her." Yonnie looked at the dark liquid in his short rocks glass. "The more she stays away from him, the more she misses him, the more she blames me. Catch-22."
"Damn, man..." Carlos raked his fingers through his hair and allowed his shoulders to slump. "Ain't how I envisioned things."
"Is it ever the way we think it's gonna be? That's true in life, and is so true in death. You know that." Yonnie stared down into his drink. "Sometimes she tries to make me feel like I'm the one. But, it ain't like that - won't be till Rider crosses over, until he's dead and buried. All I asked her to do was not put it in my face if she goes to see him... that's part of the reason you ain't seen me. Last thing I wanted to do was come on the property and pick up her trail right to that motherfucker's door."
"Whatchu gonna do, man?" Carlos said. Eerily, he was half intrigued, remembering the vampire code of snatching a heart out if one's territory was breached, but the other half of him really wanted to know how his best friend planned to handle a situation that vaguely paralleled his own. Carlos shook the strange combination of thoughts and focused. He needed to understand where Yonnie was coming from to avoid having something crazy happen to Rider.
"Look," Carlos finally admitted. "I'm in a f**ked-up Catch-22, myself. Y'all are both my boyz, and I'm not trying to see either one of you iced over a woman. Seriously, man."
"If I kill him, I lose, if I let him live, I lose," Yonnie said without emotion. "Most times, I go stay with Gabby, until I miss Tara so much that... you understand what I'm saying."
Carlos only nodded. The conversation was sobering.
"Tara keeps a separate lair at the edge of the canyon, sometimes when needing her gets bad, I might blow through... she might be inclined. A few times, even when she wasn't, she cast a good enough illusion that I didn't care. You know how it is when you're having one of those nights when you're over the top. You'll lie to yourself and blow your own mind. Tara's cool, won't leave a brother strung all the way out. We're friends, and friends do shit like that for friends, right? Even vanishing point." Yonnie stared at Carlos, hurt shimmering in his eyes so clearly that Carlos looked away.
"Yeah, man," Carlos finally said, extending his fist to Yonnie, and softly pounding his. "She's good people."
"Real respectful, too," Yonnie said, as though talking to himself. "I ain't smelled him on her yet. Not sure how I'll react. Time will tell. As you know, women are complex." He opened his flask and took a healthy swig directly from it. "But I knew I was walking into this situation, so that's cool."
"That's f**ked up, man," Carlos said, shaking his head and going back for his drink. "I'm seriously sorry to hear this, man. I don't know what else to say."
"Like I said, it's cool. I stop by Gabrielle's from time to time; Tara don't ask me my business, I don't ask her hers. Everybody is respectful, discreet. Every now and then, she comes to me and offers her throat and all that goes with it - we cool like that with each other. Then, we don't speak on it. No more, no less. It's all good." Yonnie stretched and glanced around the club with disdain. "That's why I'm taking your ass home before you mess up, do some irreversible shit, and then be caught up in the madness like me."
Carlos lifted his glass as Yonnie reached for his flask to put it back into his breast pocket. "Hit me with some color, and let's hang. You don't seem in the right frame of mind to be going back to Arizona right now."
Yonnie held his flask midair. "What did you say?"
"Look, man," Carlos said, letting his breath out hard. "This is me and you talking. If you - "
"You asked me to color your drink." Yonnie's eyes held fear, and he quickly put the blood flask away.
"I did not, man," Carlos said, chuckling. "Your ass is the one who's drunk."
Yonnie's eyes widened and his glance went from Carlos to the mirror behind the bar and back. "You've got a reflection, but you are serving a quarter inch of fang!" His whisper was so intense that the bartender briefly looked up.