Lyric. “’Tis true. Right?”
Lyric studied Gray. “Like she says, it’s not too late to abort. If you’re rethinking this, we can have a night on the town and put you on a plane for Austin in the morning. No harm. No foul.”
Gray walked over and looked out the window at the street below. “I wasn’t thinkin’ that, but even if I was. What about the lottery win?”
“Well,” Lyric said, “that can’t be undone, but without a bit of magical tweaking, money acquired too easily has a way of disappearing on its own. If you want to back out of our deal, you can still do it while we’re in this time. Your sister and niece would blow through the money at an unbelievable pace and not even know where it went. That’s how these things work. But they’d have you back.”
He turned to face them. “I’m not lookin’ to get out of the deal. I’m just realizin’ this might be real. You know. Real “Twilight Zone” shit. Not pretend.”
The demon cocked his head. “You thought this was pretend.”
“No,” Gray said slowly. “Not exactly. But there’s knowin’ and there’s knowin’. You know what I mean?”
Shivaun looked at Lyric. “I know what he means. When I first heard about vampire, I did no’ believe a bit of it. Took some convincin’ to get Sher and me on the same page. Old money organizations that train vampire hunters? Takes some gettin’ used to.”
Gray turned to Lyric. “She’s kiddin’. Right?”
“About getting used to being a vampire hunter?” Lyric asked for clarification.
“No. About vampire. There’s no such thing. Right?”
Lyric looked at Shivaun. “Way to get us off track.”
She laughed. “Oh yeah? Look at him.”
The demon turned to take Gray in. She was right. Distracting him had stripped away the remnants of fear and self-doubt.
“Here’s the plan,” Lyric said. “We’re gonna take a walk around the district. It looks different than it did in 1967. Of course. But some things are the same. This building wasn’t the Metro Hotel, but it was here. The street names and major landmarks are the same. It may help.
“We’re signed up for the Haight-Ashbury Flower Power walking tour leaving in fifteen minutes.”
“Seriously?” Gray’s chuckle pushed a tendril of excitement into the air. Shivaun saw it leave his lips and watched it rise, discovering yet another sense awakening. She could almost ‘see’ his emotion. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
“What’s wrong?” Lyric leaned down and whispered in her ear, sending shivers throughout her body.
“Why do you think somethin’s wrong?” she whispered back.
“Felt your energy shift.”
“You can do that?” Lyric laughed. She grabbed his sleeve and pulled him aside. To Gray, she said, “Excuse us.” With her back to Gray, she said, “Can I see feelin’s?”
“On humans? Maybe. Some of us can.”
“When your boy is settled, we need to have a conversation about what I can and can no’ do. Surprises are nice, but anythin’ can be overdone.”
“Some things you’re experiencing for the first time are things I take for granted and don’t think about. But I’m always available for a private chat.” His seductive tone conveyed innuendo perfectly paired with the curl of his pretty mouth.
Deciding to cut that dialogue short, she turned back to Gray with a big smile. “That was no’ about you. ‘Twas about me. Let’s go see where Janis Joplin lived.”
The tour elevated Gray’s mood considerably. The guide was cheesy, to be sure, but Gray soaked up the history, was fascinated by the art, and captivated by the musical references. He was too distracted to be overly introspective.
He talked nonstop about this and that in the limo on the way to the five-star, oceanside, seafood restaurant with beautiful view of the Golden Gate bridge. His anxiety had been replaced with optimistic anticipation, at least for the time being.
After they were seated at Lyric’s choice of table, Shivaun asked Gray, “Have you been to a restaurant like this before?”
Gray snorted. “Hardly. My family’s idea of a special occasion dinner is a hot open-faced steak sandwich at the Crossroads Café. Till now, the furthest I’ve been away from home is Houston. Never been out of state. Never been on a plane. Never been in a limo. Never met a demon. And I definitely never saw Janis Joplin’s house.”
“Well,” Shivaun smiled from across the white linen tablecloth, “neither have I. Done any of those things. Well. Except for the travel.” She glanced at Lyric. “I’ve travelled. More than most. But ‘tis recent.” Looking out at the Pacific, she said, “Only a few months