Page 9 of The Bloody Ruin Asylum & Taproom (Sam Quinn #7)

I brushed off my clothes and straightened my hair as I limped toward the noise. Turning a second corner, I bumped into a man in an apron. He said something to me in Hungarian, seeming concerned as to where I’d come from.

“English?” I asked.

He looked irritated and then said, “Why are you here?”

“Sorry. I was trying to find the restrooms.” At his blank gaze, I clarified, “Toilets.”

He nodded and pointed me in the opposite direction. I thanked him and then arrowed across the bar in the direction he’d pointed. I didn’t want to wander around Budapest looking like what I was, an asylum escapee.

Staring at my reflection a moment, I decided I didn’t look crazy, just scared.

I searched for the vamp again and felt him passing by the restroom door.

Tensed, waiting for the attack, I sensed him moving farther away into town.

Maybe he hadn’t been following me after all.

Perhaps I’d instead made a fool out of myself for his entertainment, and he was just heading into the city.

I’d messed up my leg for nothing. Idiot.

I went back out and took a moment to look around the bar.

It was a ruin bar. I’d heard of them. Some enterprising people in Budapest had taken derelict buildings, empty lots, and warehouses, with crumbling walls, collapsing roofs, and graffiti, and turned them into bars.

They hung fairy lights, added some plants, and brought in mismatched furniture from street sales. Add some alcohol and voilà! A bar.

I checked the sign as I left The Bloody Ruin Asylum & Taproom. It closed at three. Granted, I had no idea how to get back into the tunnel, but I could call for directions, or better yet, a different route. It was late, but I was hoping someone was still serving food.

I was on the Buda side of Budapest, which was hillier. There used to be two separate towns, Buda on one side of the Danube River and Pest on the other. In 1850, the cities had been merged into Budapest.

There weren’t many shops and restaurants on the Buda side and those that were had already closed. Now what? I walked farther, passing a wooded area, and finally saw the Danube, a wide black expanse snaking between streetlights on either bank.

My leg hurt but my best chance for food was the other side of the river, so I limped to the nearest bridge and crossed.

The Pest side was flatter, with a huge downtown retail area.

I wanted to return during the day so I could sightsee properly.

Right now, I was just looking for open restaurants.

Most closed at eleven or midnight. I found one that closed at one, but they’d stopped preparing food at eleven. It was just the bar that was open.

The host took pity on me and pointed down the road at another restaurant. The sign on that one said they were open until two, so I held out hope.

The host said something in Hungarian.

“Do you speak English?” I’d downloaded a translation app, so there were options if she didn’t.

“Yes.” Her expression, though, said she’d prefer not to be tested on it.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s late. Can I still get food?” Pleasepleaseplease.

She was about to say no—I could see it—and then she paused. “I’ll ask kitchen.” She turned and went deeper into the restaurant.

There was a chair by the door, so I sat and began rubbing my thigh through my jeans.

“Come on. We’re still friends, right?” I murmured to my leg.

“It was just a little running. Did Doc Underfoot warn me not to do it? Of course he did, but I had a vampire on my butt. I’m sorry and I’ll try not to run anymore. Please don’t seize up on me.”

The host came back. “He said he can”—she paused, clearly trying to find the right words—“bunch what is left to make meal. Different from menu.”

I nodded and stood, so very grateful. My leg buckled, but I caught myself. “Great. Thank you so much.”

She looked down at my leg and then checked a piece of paper in her pocket. “He has sea bass, lamb, or chili shrimp and whatever vegetables he can find.”

“Yes. Thank you. I’ll take it all, please. I’m very hungry.” I patted my stomach. At her confused expression, I added, “I can eat a lot.”

She didn’t seem convinced, but she waved me in.

Oh! It was beautiful, three stories high, with a glass roof.

There was a huge light fixture in the center of the open space.

Long black poles radiated from the center and at the end of each was a round glass ball illuminating the room.

There were plants everywhere. Vines dripped down from the balconies above.

Tall potted plants with oversized leaves were placed throughout the restaurant, creating intimate eating areas in the open expanse.

She led me to a secluded table, far to the side. I heard the low hum of voices, the clink of glasses, and then caught a glimpse of a bar at the far end of the building. The tables and stools over there were full, but it was quiet and dark where I was, which was perfect.

“To drink?” she asked me as I sat.

“Water’s good.”

She nodded and left.

My stomach grumbled. Whatever the chef was willing to let me have would be wonderful.

It didn’t take long before the woman returned with a tray as well as a man holding a second tray.

They placed the plates around me on the table and then paused, as though believing my ordering everything had been a misunderstanding.

“Thank you both.” I nodded, trying to convey that she’d understood me perfectly. “It all looks wonderful. I appreciate you making an exception for me tonight.”

The man looked at all the food again and then at me before scratching his cheek and walking back to the kitchen. The woman returned to the podium by the front door. The food servers had probably already left for the evening. Thank goodness the host was willing to do double duty.

The sea bass was delicious, in what tasted like a ginger broth, with rice on the side.

I inhaled it all and then slid the empty plate under the lamb dish.

A couple of groups of people had already passed me on the way to the bar.

Since I’d received some funny looks, I was now trying to hide empty dishes.

The lamb shawarma came with some kind of spicy tahini dipping sauce, and pita triangles. It was amazing and my body finally stopped shaking from running when I was already starving. By the time I finished this plate, I was feeling more myself.

Tucking two plates under the chili shrimp with cherry tomatoes, celery, and what looked like sautéed clams, I continued my feast. They’d even given me some bread to soak up the chili sauce. I took my time with the third plate, savoring every bite.

When I was done, I pushed the plates away, finally feeling content. The man returned with a dessert plate holding a brownie in sauce. Raising his eyebrows, he handed it to me.

I smiled and nodded. “Thank you!”

Shaking his head, he walked back into the kitchen.

I took a bite. Mmm, amazing. The sauce was an interesting mix of coffee and cherry, with a hint of lemon. It made me very happy.

The host returned with the check and I pulled out my wallet, handing her my card.

I had no idea how many Hungarian forints there were to the dollar, and I didn’t care.

I needed the food, whatever they were charging me.

After adding a big tip, I put my card away and struggled to my feet.

My leg had started to stiffen. I needed to take a nice, leisurely walk back. No pushing it this time.

I paused a moment to check for vampires. It wouldn’t do to walk out of the restaurant directly into one. Unfortunately, I found a cold, green blip far closer. Glancing up, I met dark eyes staring down at me from the interior third-floor balcony.