say, and Mr. C laughed.
“Never believed in ghosties or haunts or things that go bump in the night? Betcha feel a little bit different now.”
She returned his grin. “I kind of do, Mr. Cassidy, I have to admit.”
“Go on and call me Tommy, then. Meara does. We’re not much for formality, Doc.”
“And please call me Ryan.”
“Sure thing, Doc.” He chuckled and then pointed. “And that’s the clubhouse, just there, of course. Bane has hinted a time or two that there’s an underground tunnel that used to go from the mansion to the area just beyond the clubhouse, but I think he’s pulling my leg.”
“Where do the other vampires live?” She glanced hastily at Mr. C. “I mean, if that’s okay to ask. I don’t want you to give away any secret vampire resting places.”
When he started laughing, she groaned, realizing that most of what she thought she knew about vampires came from Buffy.
“They live all about, in regular places like everybody else, so long as they have safe rooms. Only Bane, Meara, Edge, and Luke live at the house with us.”
A tasteful sign sported the outline of a motorcycle, drawn in gold. It read VMC and nothing else. The clubhouse was long and low and looked a little bit like a fancy version of a country store. There was a front porch with rocking chairs and benches all down its length that she hadn’t seen before, which meant that she and Bane must have come out a side or back door earlier. The parking lot started in front and wrapped around to the side, and it was dotted with maybe a dozen bikes.
She thought about Marisela and smiled. Maybe she’d found a potential new friend there.
“To the hospital? Savannah General?”
“Yes, please. I need to pick up some things and then go home. Or you can take me to my place for my car, first, if you have things you need to do.”
He shook his head. “Nope. I’m at your disposal. If I left you alone, Bane would have my head. He’s a bit protective of you, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“I feel that way about him, too,” she murmured, wondering when exactly that had happened. Sometime between hearing about the free clinics and having her mind blown in the backseat of this very limo, she suspected.
Before long, they were pulling into the visitors’ parking garage at the hospital. Mr. Cassidy found a spot in a dark corner that was the farthest from the elevators and stairs and parked the car lengthwise across two spaces.
“Here you go, Doc. I’ll stay in the car with Meara. Text me when you’re on your way out? I’ll give you my number.”
She blinked, suddenly realizing she didn’t have her phone. Hadn’t had her phone in almost twenty-four hours…and hadn’t missed it at all.
Technology: 0, Vampires: 1
The window between the seats suddenly rolled down, and Meara popped her head up. “I’m not going in with you. Too many windows, and hospitals and doctors’ offices smell like death. No offense.”
“Why would I be offended? I actually wasn’t going to ask you to come in. Much quicker if I just run in alone. But if you dislike doctors’ offices so much, why did you build the free clinics? Why not fund art galleries or something like that?”
Meara gazed at her through sleepy eyes for a moment and then shrugged. “I give money to the arts, too. But as far as the clinics, it was those or donut shops. Clinics don’t make my ass wide.”
Ryan, whose ass was at least a little bit wider than it might have been, thanks to her fondness for donuts, had to laugh. “That’s a lie. You’re as much of a do-gooder as Bane is.”
“Bane? A do-gooder?” Meara stared at her in patent disbelief. “Are we talking about my brother? Tall, blond, rips the arms and heads off warlocks for fun?”
“What?” Again with the warlocks. She needed to find out what the hell that was about. But not now. She blew out a sigh. “Look. I want to hear more about this. Later. But now I need to go inside, get a few things, and then we can go to my place. My spare bag with keys to my house is in my locker, since I didn’t exactly bring my purse with me when your brother abducted me.”
Meara rolled her eyes and rubbed her index finger and thumb together. “Whatever. Tiny, tiny violins playing sad songs for you.”
“I’ll be back soon,” Ryan promised, rolling