feeling a little lost. It being a vampire bar, she presumed they served blood here. But did they serve other drinks?
"Allow me," he suggested. Rachel would have been relieved by the offer, except for the way the man was grinning. "Two Sweet Ecstasies and a Virgin Mary."
"What's a Virgin Mary?" Rachel asked suspiciously as the waitress walked away. She supposed that the Sweet Ecstasies were for the men and the Virgin Mary for her. Thomas's answer corrected her misconception.
"Blood, Worcestershire and Tabasco sauce with a squeeze of lemon. I like hot and spicy," he said with a grin.
"Oh," Rachel said faintly. The drink sounded disgusting. She was almost afraid to ask what was in the Sweet Ecstasy.
"Sometimes it's better not to know." Thomas leaned forward so that he wouldn't have to yell. He had obviously read her thoughts. It was rather annoying not to be able to have a thought of your own without people listening all the time. Rachel was much more comfortable with just Etienne, who claimed not to be able to read her mind. If he was lying and really could, at least he was polite enough not to comment.
"It doesn't matter," she answered Thomas. "I should have warned you not to bother if all they serve here is blood. I haven't quite mastered the technique of ingesting it yet." She shuddered at the very thought.
Thomas considered her for a moment. Rachel suspected he was sifting her brain for what might be the problem, then he nodded. "Don't worry about it. My sister-in-law had the same problem. We found a fix. I'll show you when the waitress brings the drinks."
Rachel felt a moment's hope that he really might have a solution; then her thoughts turned to wondering what was in the Sweet Ecstasies he had apparently ordered.
"They have all sorts of drinks here," Thomas said, obviously reading her thoughts again. "Some are mixed drinks like the Virgin Mary, which is straight blood with something added, and others are specialty bloods. Like Sweet Tooth."
"Sweet Tooth?" Rachel asked.
"Mmrn." He nodded. "The blood of diabetics. Aunt Marguerite really likes those," he added before continuing. "Then there is high iron or high potassium blood. Oh, and High Times. That's a drink made from the blood of pot smokers."
"No way!" Rachel gaped at him.
"Sure. Get the buzz without the damage to the lungs that smoking causes." He chuckled at her expression.
Rachel stared at him for a moment in disbelief, then asked, "So, do they have one with a high alcohol content?"
"Oh, yeah. It's called Wino Reds. Etienne's dad was big on that drink. Real big."
The way he said it made Rachel ask, "An alcoholic?"
"Yeah." He nodded solemnly. "We have alcoholics and druggies just like the regular population. We just have to consume it through blood."
"Alcoholic vampires," Rachel muttered, hardly able to believe it.
"I'll tell you a secret." Thomas leaned across the table again so that their heads almost met. "They were all worried about Lissi following in her father's footsteps for a while."
"No." Rachel sat back in shock. "Etienne's sister?"
"Yes." He nodded solemnly. "She was a hemophobic from childhood on."
"Yes. Etienne mentioned that. So, was she drinking to get over it, or--"
"No. She didn't drink. At least not the way you mean. Lissianna had to live at home and take her blood intravenously for the first couple hundred years. It was so bad she couldn't even hook herself up. Marguerite had to control her mind and put her to sleep to do it. But then, when old Claude died--"
"Claude?" Rachel interrupted.
"Marguerite's husband. He drank too much Wino Reds, passed out with a lit cigarette in his hand, and burned to death."
"So fire can kill us?" Rachel asked.
"Yeah. Fire. Having your head cut off and destroying or stopping the heart too," he informed her. After a moment, to be sure she didn't have any more questions, he returned to the story. "When Claude died so suddenly, Lissianna was really shook up. You know, death happens so rarely to us that it shakes everyone up. Anyway, she decided she needed to be more independent. She needed to 'live her life,' she said. So she took social work at the university, got a job in a local shelter, and moved out on her own."
"How did she feed if she--"
"That was the problem. We're not allowed to bite as a rule, but in some instances--emergencies, for instance--it's allowed. And because of her hemophobia, Lissianna was allowed." He glanced toward the men's room door, but there was