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A happy ending would include Declan in that life, without anyone trying to kill us.

“Sounds promising,” I said slowly.

“I’ll drop you off at the motel first,” Declan replied.

“No,” I replied. “If he has information that might help me, then I should be there too.”

For a moment, I thought he’d argue with me.

“If you like,” he said.

“I like very much,” I agreed, then settled back in my seat.

A chance to get more answers about my current issues and also meet someone from Declan’s past. While still unsettled about Sara being under someone else’s care now, and recovering from a brush with a vampire’s fangs, I knew I wouldn’t give up this opportunity for anything.

CHAPTERTWO

We parkedoutside the dive bar, next to a long line of motorcycles. A few people wearing a whole lot of leather hung around outside in a cloud of cigarette smoke. A few of the men eyed my dhampyr companion without a shred of friendliness as we moved past them and entered through the front doors. Declan didn’t seem to notice. Or, more likely, he didn’t give a damn.

Inside the small bar, it was almost too dim to see much other than a wooden bar top, behind which was a wall lined with liquor bottles. A couple people sat at the bar with glasses of draft beer in front of them. The shells from discarded peanuts, a gift-with-purchase for the local boozehounds, littered the floor by their feet.

“Nice place,” I said dryly. “Come here often?”

“Every time I’m in Los Angeles,” Declan replied.

“How often is that?”

“Far too often.” He scanned the interior of the bar, then nodded. “He’s here.”

I followed him deeper into the bar, past a pool table surrounded by a few players. The crack of the cue hitting the balls made me tense up. To the left were a few dart boards, with small, sharp weapons being violently hurled at them.

Sure, they were just darts. But anything that pointy made me extremely nervous these days.

A man watched our approach from his seat at a black vinyl booth, the edge of his mouth turned up into what I assumed was a welcoming smile. As he slid out and got to his feet to greet us, I could see he was almost as tall as Declan, every bit as muscular, but fair-haired and blue-eyed.

He made me think of a military tank. An attractive, blond military tank who slayed vampires for a living.

“Declan Reyes,” he drawled as that grin of his grew wider. He stretched out his hand. “It’s been a long damn time.”

“It has.” Declan grasped his hand. “Jackson Gale, this is Jillian. Jillian Conrad.”

Jackson’s gaze flicked to me. “Well, well. So this is the woman with the vamp-killing blood. Good to meet you, Jillian. Grab a seat.”

I got into the booth, and Declan took a seat next to me, and across from Jackson.

“First, drinks, and a toast,” Jackson said. He had a pitcher of beer already on the table, and he poured three glasses from it. He raised his glass. “To doing what has to be done, and spilling the blood that needs to be spilled.”

“Always,” Declan agreed, clinking his glass with the other man’s. He glanced at me. “It’s an old toast.”

“I’ll take your word on that,” I said, and took a sip of the beer. It was room temperature, but there was alcohol in it, and that made it good enough for me.

“I’m glad Declan brought you along,” Jackson said with a nod. “Get to put a face with the reputation.”

“What reputation is that?” I asked.

“That you single-handedly took out the vampire king. That the infamous King Matthias is dust because he got a taste of you.”

I shot a look at Declan. “Did you tell him that?”