I smiled. "Cross my heart."
He just shook his head and pulled a fresh cigarette out of the pack he always kept behind the bar. He took one last drag of the nearly burned cig, then clasped the fresh one between his lips. He put the glowing orange end of the old cig against the fresh white tip and sucked air. The paper and tobacco caught, flared orange-red, and he stubbed out the old cig in the already full ashtray he carried with him from place to place, like a teddy bear.
"I know they got a dancer down at the club that is a freak. He does the party circuit and is reeeal popular with a certain sort of vamp." Luther shrugged, a massive movement like mountains hiccuping. "Don't have no dirt on him, 'cept he's a junkie, and he does the circuit. Shit, Anita, that's bad enough. Sounds like someone to stay away from."
"I would if I could." It was my turn to shrug. "But you haven't heard anything else about him?"
He thought for a moment, sucking on his new cigarette. "No, not a word. He ain't a big player in the district. He's a professional victim. Most of the talk is about the predators down here, not the sheep." He frowned. "Just a minute. I got something, an idea." He thought very carefully for a few minutes, then smiled broadly. "Yeah, got some news on a predator. Vamp calls himself Valentine, wears a mask. He been bragging that he did ol' Phillip the first time."
"So," I said.
"Not the first time he was a junkie, girl, the first time period. Valentine claims he jumped the boy when he was small, did him good. Claims ol' Phillip liked it so much that's why he's a junkie."
"Dear God." I remembered the nightmares, the reality, of Valentine. What would it have been like to have been small when it happened? What would it have done to me?
"You know Valentine?" Luther asked.
I nodded. "Yeah. He ever say how old Phillip was when the attack took place?"
He shook his head. "No, but word is anything over twelve is too old for Valentine, 'less it's revenge. He's a real big one for revenge. Word is if the master didn't keep him in line, he'd be damn dangerous."
"You bet your sweet ass he's dangerous."
"You know him." It wasn't a question.
I looked up at Luther. "I need to know where Valentine stays during the day."
"That's two bits of information for nuthin'. I don't think so."
"He wears a mask because I doused him with Holy Water about two years ago. Until last night I thought he was dead, and he thought the same about me. He's going to kill me, if he can."
"You awful hard to kill, Anita."
"There's a first time, Luther, and that's all it takes."
"I hear that." He started polishing already clean glasses. "I don't know. Word gets out we giving you daytime resting places, it could go bad for us. They could burn this place to the ground with us inside."
"You're right. I don't have a right to ask." But I sat there on the bar stool, staring at him, willing him to give me what I needed. Risk your life for me old buddy ol' pal, I'd do the same for you. Riiight.
"If you could swear you wouldn't use the info to kill him, I could tell you," Luther said.
"It'd be a lie."
"You got a warrant to kill him?" he asked.
"Not active, but I could get one."
"Would you wait for it?"
"It's illegal to kill a vampire without a court order of execution," I said.
He stared at me. "That ain't the question. Would you jump the gun to make sure of the kill?"
"Might."
He shook his head. "You gonna be up on charges one of these days, girl. Murder is a serious rap."
I shrugged. "Beats getting your throat torn out."