Tall, Silent & Lethal (Pyte/Sentinel #4)(23)

“Why am I cut off?” he asked the waitress, returning his attention back to her.

“Because you drank twenty beers already,” she bit out in a bitchy tone, folding her arms over her small chest as she glared down at him.

Christofer did a quick mental tally of all the beers he'd drank since he stepped into the bar ten hours ago and shrugged. It wasn't like he could get drunk off the shit. The fact of the matter was that it wouldn't affect him one way or the other. His body wouldn't even be able to digest it.

“I'm not drunk,” he argued, not because he really wanted another beer, but because he really didn't feel like heading home and dealing with Cloe looking at him the way everyone else did. Whether Marta wanted her to leave or not no longer mattered. She was leaving. It was bad enough that he had to deal with living in this bullshit town, he'd be damned if he put up with the looks of disgust in his own home.

“Doesn't matter. John said you're cut off,” she said firmly. One look at John and Christofer knew this hadn't been the man's idea. He looked close to pissing himself.

With a heavy sigh, Christofer took pity on the man and stood up. The waitress, for all her bravado, jumped back and quickly scurried off to hide behind the bar and John.

Yeah, living with this constant bullshit at home would just be so much fun, he thought dryly.

After throwing a few twenties on the table, he headed towards the men's room, chuckling when several waitresses and a few big beefy guys tried to look casual as they jumped out of his way. His reputation did have its benefits, he decided a minute later when several men, in mid-pee, jumped out of his way when they spotted him walking into the bathroom.

Ignoring their theatrics, he stepped up to the urinal, unzipped and pulled himself out. Without a second thought for the guys that were practically running over each other to leave, he relieved himself. Seconds later the scent of warm beer filled the tiny bathroom as it left his body, still in its original form. It was one of the reasons why he stayed away from drinking hard liquor since it stung like a bitch when it came out.

He finished up and turned around, surprised to discover that he wasn't alone after all. One of the men that had jumped out of the way when he’d walked into the bathroom squirmed from side to side as he held both hands over his junk.

“I really have to go,” the man stressed.

Christofer's lips twitched. “Don't let me stand in your way.”

“Thanks,” the man said, practically running to the urinal, but damn careful to stay away from Christofer, effectively killing the tiny ounce of humor he’d felt from watching a grown man doing the “pee pee” dance.

He washed his hands and stormed out of the bathroom, uncaring that he sent half the bar's occupants jumping to the side. He was in no mood for any more bullshit tonight. The sound of his phone ringing did nothing to help his mood. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and answered a little more abruptly than he normally would have since only one person had this number.

“What?” he demanded.

“Christofer?” Marta said, sounding unsure.

“Yes,” he snapped before he took a deep calming breath and reminded himself that Marta hadn't done anything to deserve his anger. “Yes?” he said more softly as he walked out of the bar, rolling his eyes in exasperation as several bikers he'd seen around town, jumped out of his way.

“Is Cloe with you?” she asked, sounding anxious.

“No. Why would she be with me?” he asked, heading towards their house and wishing that he didn't have to wait until he was out of sight before he could use his speed to run home. Not that he was in any rush to deal with Cloe. He wasn't. He just wasn't in the mood to stay in town for longer than was necessary tonight.

“Oh dear,” Marta mumbled.

“What's going on, Marta?” he asked as he watched a small group of women rush across the street to get away from him.

“She's not here,” she answered, hesitantly.

“What do you mean she's not there?” he barked, frightening another group of women into running across the street and almost getting hit by a car. At the moment he was simply too pissed to be aggravated by their stupidity. “Where did she go after she picked you up?” he demanded, quickening his stride.

There was a heavy pause before she answered. “She didn't pick me up, Christofer. I wasn't sure if she was running late or not.”

“Where are you?” he demanded, feeling his temper rise as his fangs throbbed in anticipation. He ran his tongue over his teeth to keep them at bay.

“Home, but I can't find her anywhere, Christofer. I'm very worried.” she rushed out, her accent becoming more pronounced with each passing second.

“How did you get home, Marta?” he asked with barely restrained fury.

“I-I took a taxi,” she whispered nervously and for good reason.

“She's fired,” Christofer bit out as he broke out into a run, no longer caring that he was still in view of the town.

“But, Christofer-”

“This is no longer up for discussion, Marta. She'll be leaving tonight,” he said firmly, not bothering to tell his sister that he'd be draining the bitch's body dry for failing to keep her safe.

“But, Christofer-”

“Tonight,” he bit out coldly, cutting his sister off before he hung up. He was in no mood to argue with his sister tonight. Allowing his sister to keep Cloe around had been a mistake, one that he wouldn't allow her to repeat. It had been foolish to bring someone else into their home when she had him.