Roaring Dawn: Macey Book 3 (The Gardella Vampire Hunters 10) by Colleen Gleason

was tired of it all. He understood how Sebastian had felt, ready to finish with whatever had brought him to this place. And Chas, unlike Vioget, had literally been brought here. Through time.
    What he didn’t know, still didn’t know, five years later, was why .
    Yes, he’d wanted an escape from everything that had happened with Narcise. And, unbelievably, Wayren had offered him a unique way out. But why here? Why now?
    He shook his head and was just reaching down of the bottle to refill his glass for the third time when someone rattled at the door.
    “We’re closed!” he called, then frowned. What if it was Macey out there, bedraggled and wet? He wasn’t certain she was here; they hadn’t gone out together hunting tonight. His frown turned grimmer.
    After what had happened in the alley two nights ago…well, she probably was avoiding him as much as he was avoiding her.
    The door rattled again, and with a curse he shoved the bottle back into the safe (in case it was Temple) and went to see who the bloody hell was so insistent. As he approached, he realized something he’d somehow ignored or submerged deep in his grumbly consciousness: a vampire was present.
    Chas was in just enough of a foul mood to fling the door open regardless of whoever might be on the other side. The drink sloshed over his hand as a result of the effort, and he glowered at the huddled figure standing there.
    He couldn’t make out a gender, but it was only one person, and his sensation measuring the proximity of undead indicated there weren’t anymore other than this one.
    “Well, come in,” he said, checking to make certain a stake was still present in his pocket. Just in case. “Don’t think I’ve ever heard of a vampire drowning before, but it’s raining enough that you just damned well might.”
    “Didn’t they attempt to drown Rasputin?”
    It was a woman, with a vaguely familiar voice, and when she drew back the hooded jacket to reveal her face, Chas recognized her immediately.
    The tall, skin-and-bones redhead had once been a friend of Macey’s. Freda…no, Flora. Flora was her name.
    “They did. Unsuccessfully—after, I believe, also trying to shoot him. More than once. Well, come in and take that off. No need to be bloody dripping all over the place.”
    She gave him a curious glance, but stepped over the threshold as she pulled off her sodden jacket. Then she hung it on a hook near the door and turned to face him. She was wearing a bright yellow dress that glittered, implying she’d come from somewhere fancy. In the center was a rust-colored stain that had Chas’s brows lifting. “Thank you. I was hoping Macey was here.”
    “She’s not.”
    Flora raked her eyes over him from head to toe, and she had the temerity to let a sensual glow light her eyes when she did.
    “That’ll be enough of that,” he said, firmly ignoring a tiny flicker of lust.
    She giggled and slid onto a stool without being asked, flashing him a sultry look. “I was just checking to see if you were interested. Your reputation is quite profound.”
    “My reputation with a stake, you mean.”
    “Your stake?” Her eyes narrowed with delight, and now they were glowing fully red. She ran the tip of her bold red tongue over her exposed fangs. “That’s one way to put it.”
    “What do you want?” he asked, putting the counter between himself and her. More for her safety than his own.
    “How about we start with whatever you’re drinking.” She glanced at his half-empty glass.
    “How about we don’t.” He pulled out his weapon and showed her. “I should probably just put you out of your misery—save Macey the damned trouble.”
    “She can’t do it herself,” Flora said—as if they were discussing whether their mutual acquaintance could pilot a plane. “She’s had ample opportunities—including tonight. She can’t kill me.”
    Flora settled back onto the stool, folding her arms beneath her breasts and the stain from Macey’s