My gaze jumped sharply to his. "She's an emo vampire?"
"If that is a vampire that feeds off the life force of others, then yes."
"An emo feeds off emotion, not life force." I frowned at the woman. "Is anyone in danger?"
"I would suspect not. She appears to be taking only a small quantity from each—it amounts to little more than minutes from their lives."
"It shortens their lives?"
He raised an eyebrow, amusement lurking around the corners of his mouth. "Did I not just say that?"
"Apparently." I scrubbed a hand through my short hair. "Should we try to stop her?"
"That is not why we are here; nor is it your place to do so. If she takes it too far, the Directorate will deal with her."
"And will she? Take it too far, I mean?"
He studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowed. "That possibility is there. It always is whenever a life depends on feeding from others."
"Huh." I glanced over my shoulder, saw the barman coming back, and turned around.
"You have a couple of minutes," he said. His tone held a mocking edge as he added, "Seems she'd prefer not to have Hunter after her."
"She's through that door?" I nodded toward the heavy wooden door.
"Yes." He picked up a tea towel and began polishing glasses, his expression one of disdain. Hunter's lackeys, it seemed, were not held in high regard in this place, even if the woman herself was feared.
I pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped into a long, semidark corridor. Several doors led off it, all of them closed except the one down at the far end. Light flickered from within—some sort of computer screen, I thought, as I headed down. My footsteps echoed lightly, but no one came out to usher us into the room or greet us.