Chapter 10

Claudia

The movie scared the hell out of her. A few times, Claudia found herself leaning toward Manrick, as if he could protect her from the hideous ghouls on the screen. She supposed the movie, the fear factor, might be comparable to humans watching movies about human serial killers. Humans could scare each other. So could ghouls.

Outside the theater, the darkness made Claudia jumpy. She wasn't thrilled about the walk home alone, but she didn't want to admit that to Manrick. Besides, she had lived in Whynot for fifty years, and no one had ever bothered her. She would be fine.

"How about a drink?"

Surprised by Manrick's question, she jerked her gaze from the sidewalk at her feet to meet his eyes.

"I could use a drink," she said with a nervous laugh.

"Me, too." He grinned.

"That was…" She shook her head, at a loss for words.

"Disturbing."

"Yes."

"I drove." He nodded his head to the left, apparently indicating a vehicle parked somewhere that way. Of course he would have driven. Archer didn't live right in the middle of town. His estate would be huge, something that would take up city blocks, so he probably lived on the edge of town.

"Why did Stajia kill him?" she mumbled as they walked. "It was just so unnecessary."

"Horror movie," Manrick reminded her.

"Mm." She nodded. "True."

The walkway turned to brick; thick tree limbs hung over the path, creating the illusion of safety and romance.

Or terror and possibly murder.

Claudia wasn't afraid of Manrick, but she shivered all the same.

"You okay?"

"Just very disturbing."

"Have you read ‘The Lottery'?"

"Of course I have." She nodded. "Yeah. Disturbing like that."

Manrick slowed at a silver Porsche Cayman. Claudia eyed it suspiciously and finally looked at Manrick.

"Archer's?"

"Mine." He shook his head.

"Nice." She looked it over as she rounded the sports car to get to the passenger door. Manrick dropped into the driver's side as she pulled her door open.

"I'm thinking The Goblin."

Not in the mood for clubbing, a plain, downhome tavern like The Goblin sounded perfect to Claudia. She nodded enthusiastically as she buckled her seatbelt. Her phone buzzed in her butt pocket. Damn. Probably more notifications from the dating app. She hadn't given that a thought all night.

"Do you read a lot?" he asked as he started the vehicle. He revved the engine gently, as though it was more of a habit than him trying to impress her.

Didn't mean she wasn't impressed, though. Claudia used to drive a Firebird, eons ago. Now, she usually just walked anywhere in Whynot. Because why not?

"All the time."

"I just finished an Anderson LaBrava thriller."

"His latest?"

Manrick nodded in response but kept his eyes on the road as he pulled away from the curb. Claudia stared straight ahead now, seeing ghosts and ghouls—scary ghouls—in every shadow.

"How was it?"

"Over the top. So much so, I found it hard to suspend disbelief."

"And you're a ghoul." She laughed softly. "Living among other paranormal and fantasy creatures. Says a lot."

"Right?" He shot a look her way. He had a nice smile.

Uncomfortable with the thought—Manrick had been friends with Harold, after all—Claudia jerked her gaze away to look out her window.

"I'm tired of being disappointed in thrillers. Nothing new under the sun."

"There isn't, though. Anything new. It's the voice, the characters and their nuances that make the stories what they should be." Claudia glanced at him again.

"Good point."

"What's your drink of choice?" she asked as he rolled the car to a stop at a busy intersection. They were two blocks from The Goblin. And at least fourteen from her house. She dreaded the thought of walking home. She could get a cab home.

"I like Dead Red lager," he answered. "Maybe some Might Die Rye, if I need something stronger."

"Nice."

"You?"

"Bad Body Bourbon," she said without hesitation.

Manrick swung the Porsche into the parking lot and angled it into a spot far away from other cars.

"You know some jerk's gonna be parked right next to you when we come out, right?" Claudia looked over her shoulder at his car as they walked side by side to the entrance of the shabby old tavern.

"Yep." He nodded. "But I gotta make the effort, ya know?"

She did know. When she had driven her Firebird, she babied it. Drove it daily but washed and waxed it every evening. Parked, as Manrick did, far away from other cars or shopping carts or curbs or anything. And still, she'd been sideswiped in her ob-gyn's parking lot. The dumbass had tried to run, swiping her car yet again, as he pulled out and drove off. But the doctor's office had it all on security footage.

Still. Her twelfth husband—Larry—had blamed her.

She shivered again. Larry had been mean and abusive the second the old vampire judge had pronounced them man and wife.

"Still thinking about the movie?" Manrick asked her as they approached the bar.

"Nah." She shook her head, reminding herself Larry was long gone, and climbed up on a barstool as Manrick did the same. She didn't want to talk about Larry. She had divorced him, and when he hadn't left her alone, rather than play around with an order of protection, she had sicced a couple of demon brothers on him. She hadn't heard from the creep in years.

"Manrick."

The bartender wandered down the bar to stand opposite them. Claudia eyed the zombie closely, interested in the smile and handshake he and Manrick exchanged.

"My friend Claudia," Manrick told the guy. "Claudia, this is Barrabus. He's an old friend."

Barrabus turned a horrid, gap-toothed smile her way. Chunks of gray skin hung from his face. The claw of a hammer dug into the back of his head.

"Claudia." The zombie nodded. "What can I getcha?"

"How about two fingers of Bad Body Bourbon?"

He gave her a thumbs up. Except most of that thumb was missing. Claudia looked around the place when he turned to Manrick.

"Same for me."

"You got it." Barrabus turned to snatch a bottle from the back bar and pour their drinks.

"You come here a lot."

"I do." Manrick nodded. "I like living at Archer's. It's good. But sometimes." He shrugged and looked around. "Sometimes it's just good to go back to the basics."

The basics.

Claudia found herself smiling back at him.

"I'll drink to that."