The club came alive after sunset. By the time the last crimson glow had vanished from the horizon — not that it could be seen from the windowless building — the main room had turned into a labyrinth of bodies, groups crowded around the four-top tables, limbs spilling into the narrow aisles between the chairs. Voices rolled into a single roar that hung heavy over the club, peppered with the occasional burst of raucous laughter or the high pitch of an excited whistle. Above it all the music pulsed, providing a rhythm for the dancers' bodies as they sauntered, crawled, and writhed across the stage.

Navigating my way across the dark floor while balancing a drink tray was mostly skill, with a small dash of luck. Muscle memory helped; although it had been years since I'd last waitressed, my fingers remembered better than my brain did how to balance the tray as I wove in, out, and around the patrons.

One extra-dry gin martini and one margarita, extra salt on the rim, for Table 4. Two beers and a Manhattan for Table 7. Check in on Table 8; no new drinks, but a refresh on their waters when I got a chance. Finally I turned to the newly seated guests at Table 9 — and paused, a smile curling across my lips despite that cold crackle at the bottom of my lungs, as if I'd swallowed a mouthful of winter air.

The larger of the two men looked like he ought to be deep in the Appalachian woods, mining coal or harvesting lumber. Mountainous shoulders were draped in red flannel, unbuttoned to show a graphic t-shirt advertising a band that hadn't toured in over twenty years. His short, buzzed hair looked naked without a ball-cap pulled over it, but Beverly didn't like hats in her club, and the patrons knew better than to upset Beverly. Light brown eyes glanced up at me, and a spark of recognition immediately ignited in them.

"Sevvy-Baby?" Bob asked, almost laughing. "Is that really you?"

I grinned, resting my empty tray against one hip. "Sure is, Bob. Just for the one night."

He laughed for real then, a big booming sound, his fangs gleaming in the dim light. "Well then, we have two reasons to celebrate tonight, don't we?"

His companion was a smaller man — of course, with Bob, just about everyone was a smaller man — who didn't look like the type to hang out with miners or lumberjacks. Then again, looks can be deceiving; Bob didn't look like what he was, either. Stefano wore a light blue dress shirt, with a collar so stiff it had to be starched, though it was unbuttoned just enough to offer a peak of the heavy gold chain around his neck. His black eyes swiveled up to me, a playful grin revealing the tips of his very pointed canines. "News report says that that shithead of a mage who's been running the city got himself offed right proper, with a blade straight through the heart — staked just like a vamp, they're saying."

Bob gave a joyful cackle. "I'd buy the glorious bastard who did it a drink — a whole fuckin' case of drinks — if I could. May that Joo-ban fellow avoid the cops all the rest of his long days."

By some miracle, my smile didn't even wobble when Bob mangled Juhan's name. Instead I just chuckled and shook my head. "Don't suppose you'll make do with a pair of Bloody Marys and a note to the girls that you're here?"

"Sevvy-Baby," Stefano purred my nickname. "How many years, and you still remember our order? This is why you've always been the best."

I winked. "Only because you tipped the best."

They were both laughing as I beelined back to the bar. Bob and Stefano had been club regulars for as long as I could remember; they'd probably been regulars before I'd even been born. I'd never heard anyone say a sour word about either, but their tips — especially on nights when they were in a particularly good mood — were legendary. And, in my case, had been the only reason I'd been able to pay off my first car.

Just before I reached the computer terminal to input their drinks, I felt fingers reach out and wrap around my wrist. Blinking down, I found Juhan staring up at me, a look of concern marring his temporary surfer-boy features.

"Please be careful with that table, Severine," he hissed, barely loud enough to be heard over the din. "Those two are vampires."

I made a show of raising one brow. "I know. The fangs kind of give it away." Surprise loosened his fingers, and I easily tugged my wrist free of his grasp. "Pretty normal clientele for here, actually. Instead of lap dances, some of the performers use the private rooms for feeding sessions. Mage blood is supposed to offer an extra kick, isn't it?"

Concern shifted into horror at the revelation. "They do what?"

I couldn't help but chuckle. Apparently living in their ivory towers left mages like Juhan more sheltered than I'd imagined, at least when it came to some of the seedier aspects of getting by in life without the cushion of a wealthy family or trust fund safety net. "Get a fat fee for a little blood. Need to pay the bills somehow, after all."

"Severine, you can't possibly—" Juhan stopped himself when he realized I was no longer looking at him, and instead staring at the large figure looming just over his shoulder.

Bob stepped forward, purposefully crowding Juhan's space, but not quite touching him — yet. "This man bothering you, Sevvy-Baby?"

I gave a quick shake of my head. "No, Bob, in fact he was just checking in to make sure you weren't bothering me."

The rumble that Bob gave was close to a laugh, but not quite. "Is that so?"

The part of it that wasn't a laugh was a little too close to a threat for my comfort. While I was still annoyed with Juhan, I didn't necessarily want him on the wrong end of a vampire. I playfully flipped my hair over my shoulder, giving a light giggle. "Now Bob, don't scare away my date. Justin's just trying to be a gentleman here."

"Date? Well why didn't you say so!" Bob's wide grin came with one meaty hand thunking Juhan on the shoulder, all hint of danger evaporated. "You ought to come over and join us, rather than drinking alone while you're waiting for your sweetheart to finish her shift."

"Really, I couldn't impose," Juhan replied, his hazel eyes turning towards mine in a silent plea.

I grinned; I was still mad enough to enjoy seeing him squirm a little. Besides, now that Bob thought he was my boyfriend, I trusted that he'd be safe enough within the confines of the club. "Go on, baby. They're celebrating the death of that one mage, you know, that corporate suit that you hated?"

Juhan looked like he'd swallowed a spider, but Bob was slapping his shoulder again.

"I like this one already! Don't you worry, Sevvy-Baby," the vampire was chuckling as he started steering the mage back towards his table. "We'll take good care of your man."

I winked. "Oh, I'm sure you will."

Juhan looked like he was being dragged off to the gallows.

But by the time I delivered the two Bloody Marys to the table, he was slouched back at a comfortable angle in his chair, listening attentively to a story that Stefano was in the middle of telling — I only caught enough bits and pieces to put together that he was recounting the tale of a date gone horribly (and hilariously) wrong.

Apparently it somehow involved marshmallows.

Twenty minutes later, when I stopped by to inform Bob that Candy would be waiting for him in private room #3 in ten minutes, Juhan was actually laughing with them.

Another thirty minutes after that, as I dropped off a fresh round of drinks and a hand-written note that Jasmine would be available at the top of the hour for Stefano in private room #5, it was Juhan who was sharing a story of his own, with both vampires laughing uproariously. This time it involved celery, but I didn't catch more than that.

Later, when I was checking in with a neighboring table, I glanced over to find the three of them all with their phones out, swapping numbers like a group of college co-eds.

And at the end of the night — well, my night; the club would be open into the wee hours of the morning — I actually had to go fetch Juhan from the table and remind him it was time to leave. He left amongst smiles and cheers, tossing back an easy grin at his drinking buddies. I rolled my eyes, but caught myself smiling as well.

With Juhan in tow, there was little left to do before departure: tipping out the barbacks, offering up farewells to Beverly and a few of the staff, grabbing a few bottles of water for the journey.

And then we were gone — gone from the club, gone from the city.

Dark countryside spilled out on either side of the dark as we sped down the two-lane highway, the black sheet of night pinpricked by the warm glow of the occasional farmhouse. There had been no cops waiting for us as we moved from city to suburb to country; at this time of night, there weren't even other cars on the road. Just us and the velvety darkness split open by the bright slash of headlights.

I turned in my seat, shifting my gaze from the shadowed landscape to where Juhan sat in the driver's seat, dimly illuminated by the dials on the dashboard.

"I like you better this way," I offered. The surfer-boy look was gone; back was the rich brown hair, the strong jaw, the skin the color of acacia trees under moonlight. The blazer was still draped over the backseat, and I could just barely make out the muscled lines of his shoulders beneath the t-shirt fabric.

Hazel eyes darted up from the road for a second to connect with mine, then Juhan was back to focusing on his driving. "You don't miss your boyfriend 'Justin'?"

"No, but I think Bob and Stefano do," I chuckled.

That earned a laugh. "I think they miss 'Sevvy-Baby,' too."

"You only get to call me that if it comes with a cash tip," and belatedly I realized I was teasing him. The anger wasn't gone, but it had mellowed enough for other emotions to bubble to the surface.

"Is that so?" Juhan smiled as he navigated the car around a lazy curve. Corn stood tall on either side of the road, like silent sentinels stretching back into the dark night. He straightened out the wheel again, eyes firmly on the road. "I think I like Severine better anyway."

A smirk tugged at my lips. "Even if she yells at you?"

"Sometimes I deserve to be yelled at." There was still humor in his voice, but it was mixed with something more solemn — and that solemnity took over as Juhan continued. "I still owe you an apology. Not just because I promised you one, but because you truly deserve one."

The smirk melted away as I tipped my head, waiting expectantly.

"I am sorry, Severine," Juhan said. "Now that I've had time to think about it, I realize that… I made a decision for you that wasn't mine to make. Who you're bound to should be entirely your decision, and I will find a way to fix it."

Without really thinking about it, my hand reached up, touching the ring where it hung between my breasts. The metal was still cool against my skin, as if I'd just put it on instead of worn it for hours. "Honestly, Juhan… Now that I've had a chance to cool off a little, I can understand why you did it. I still don't like it, but I can understand it. I know you were just trying to help, and it wasn't malicious."

"There's something else I think you should know." The hands on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles paling for a second. "I burned out a Catalyst once before."

It took me a second to breathe, my eyes widening as I studied the shadowed lines of his face.

Juhan continued without waiting for a response from me. "Decades ago. I was young and very stupid, and it was a mock duel. I was so determined to win that I kept demanding more power, and completely ignored the fact that he was starting to burn out." A quick shake of his head, a bitter tinge to his voice. "I didn't even turn to look at him until I felt the power suddenly cut out — because he'd collapsed from heat stroke."

"Did he survive?" I asked, my voice soft.

"Barely." Juhan shook his head again, and I saw his jaw clench and release. "It took him a long time to recover. For a while, we weren't even certain if he would. My father decided it would be better if I had a different Catalyst, and asked Pete to pair with me. But I've never been able to shake the memory. So when I saw you in pain like that…" Juhan trailed off, then swallowed. "It's not an excuse for what I did. But you were owed the explanation."

My gaze fell down into my lap as I rolled the tale around in my head. Finally I looked back up, caught hazel eyes risking another glance at me. "Thank you, Juhan. I appreci—"

The words were lost beneath the crunching of metal, the squealing of tires.