And Mirabeau, too, she decided. After all, it had been at her friend's insistence that she'd brought the fellow out for a quick bite. Knowing her mother would have something lined up for her, Lissianna had wanted to wait until reaching her birthday party to feed, but Mirabeau--and cousin Jeanne--had worried that her pallor would lead Marguerite Argeneau to put her on an intravenous the moment she arrived at the house.
When Dwayne had started to hit on her, Lissianna had allowed Mirabeau to persuade her to bring him out for a quick bite. And now she might have a problem. It had taken her several moments to realize there was something wrong, then a couple more minutes to find the information that he was anemic. She only hoped she hadn't taken too much blood from him in that time.
Finished with his memory, Lissianna eyed Dwayne with equal parts irritation and concern. Despite his bottled tan, the man looked pale, but at least he was still on his feet. Putting her hand to his wrist, she took his pulse and relaxed a little. While a bit accelerated, it was strong. He should be fine by tomorrow morning. Dwayne wouldn't feel well for a while, though, but then, it was lit-tie more than he deserved for running around all padded and cucumbered to snare a girl. Idiot.
People could be such fools, she thought with irritation. Like children playing dress up and pretending they were older than they really were, adults now ran around padded, corseted, or siliconed to be something they really weren't, or to be what they thought was attractive. And it got worse all the time. She wondered why they didn't understand that their true selves were good enough, and if they weren't, then the someones they weren't good enough for were really the ones not good enough.
Lissianna put the thought in Dwayne's mind that he'd come out for some air because he hadn't felt well. She made sure to instruct him to stay there until he felt better, then to take a taxi home, then had him close his eyes as she completed wiping herself from his memory. Once assured she'd done the job properly, Lissianna left him swaying where he stood and walked back around the bins to the parking lot.
"Lissi?" A figure crossed the dark lot toward her.
"Father Joseph." Eyebrows rising, Lissianna changed direction to meet the elderly man. The priest was her boss at the shelter where she worked the night shift. Bars were not usually his sort of hangout. "What are you doing here?"
"Bill said there was a new kid on the streets. He doesn't think the boy's more than twelve or thirteen and is pretty sure he's been eating out of the garbage bins back here. I thought I'd see if I could find him and convince him to come to the shelter."
"Oh." Lissianna glanced around the lot. Bill was one of the regulars down at the shelter. He often pointed them toward people who might need their help. If he said there was a new kid on the streets, then there was. Bill was de-pendable about such things. And Father Joseph was equally dependable about going out in search of such strays in the hopes of getting to them before they did something desperate or stupid, or got dragged into drugs or prostitution.
"I'll help," Lissianna offered. "He's probably around here somewhere. I--"
"No, no. This is your night off," Father Joseph said, then frowned. "Besides, you aren't wearing a coat. What are you doing out here without a coat?"
"Oh." Lissianna's gaze slid to the garbage bins as a thump sounded behind them. A quick probe of Dwayne's thoughts told her that he'd thumped his head against the bin as he leaned against it. Idiot. She turned back to find Father Joseph peering toward the containers and spoke quickly to distract him. "I forgot something in my cousin's car."
It was a bald-faced lie, and Lissianna sincerely hoped the man hadn't noticed where exactly she'd come from, but would think she'd been in the little black Mazda parked beside the bins. Not wanting to lie any more than necessary, she rubbed her arms, and added, "Gosh you're right though, it is cold out here."
"Yes." He peered at her with concern. "You'd best go back inside."
Nodding, Lissianna wished him good night and made her escape. She hurried across the parking lot, then around the corner of the bar, only slowing once she stepped inside the loud and crowded bar.
Thomas was nowhere in sight, but--thanks to the fuchsia-tinted tips of her ebony hair--Lissianna didn't have any trouble spotting Mirabeau at the bar with Jeanne.
"Well, you look..." Mirabeau hesitated as Lissianna reached them, then finally finished with, "the same. What happened?"
"Anemic." She spat the word with annoyance.
"But he looked so healthy," Jeanne protested.
"Padded shoulders and bottled tan," she said. "And that's not all."
"What else could there be?" Mira asked dryly.
Lissianna grimaced. "He had a cucumber down his pants."
Jeanne gave a disbelieving giggle, but Mirabeau groaned, and said, "It must have been a seedless English cucumber, the man looked huge."
Lissianna gaped. "You looked?"
"You didn't?" she countered.
Jeanne burst out laughing, but Lissianna just shook her head and glanced around the bar. "Where's Thomas?"
"Here."
She spun around as his hand settled on her shoulder.
"Did I hear you right? Was your Romeo sporting a cucumber down his pants?" he asked with amusement, giving her shoulder an affectionate squeeze.
Lissianna nodded with disgust. "Can you imagine?"