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we
were doing in Bottoms Up that night, when the vampire hunter
walked in.
Bottoms Up was one of our favorite hunting grounds that
year. The clientele was decent and clean and mostly composed of
lonely yuppies on the make, and the decor was heavy on the
mahogany and brass. The rock that boomed out of the bar's big
amps leaned more toward mellow than metal, which suited us just
fine. Vampires have very sensitive hearing, and a good obnoxious
head banging band will run us off quicker than garlic any day.
Especially considering that I kind of like garlic, all my vampire
novels notwithstanding. Which just goes to prove: don't believe
everything you read.
At the moment, I was carrying on a silent flirtation with a
cute yuppie couple, trying to tempt them into a game of sexual
doubles. They were sitting two tables away, with the husband
eyeing me and the wife eyeing Beau, both with some idea of
enlivening their sex lives. I was eyeing the pulse in hubby's
throat with some idea of enlivening it a lot more than they had
in mind.
By way of baiting the hook, I leaned back in m
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