“Caroline?” His mouth twisted. “Honestly, I can’t say. Long-distance relationships are tough, and there’s a lot we never got a chance to find out. But I liked her a lot, Daisy. An awful lot.”

“I’m sorry,” I said honestly.

He gave me another glance, his expression softening. “I know. Thanks, Pixy Stix.”

My tail twitched with indignation. “What’s that all about, anyway?” I grumbled. “Why the hell did Brent call me that?”

Cody chuckled. “Hell if I know, but it’s funny.”

We passed the turnoff to downtown Pemkowet and headed for the rural highway. I grimaced. “You’re taking us to the Wheelhouse?”

“Yep. I told you.” Cody turned onto the highway. “It’s okay. You can stay in the patrol car if you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” I protested. “I just don’t like ghouls.”

“Who does?”

“Skanks,” I said morosely.

“One man’s skank is another man’s alluring woman in distress,” Cody said philosophically, pulling into the parking lot. “Since you value it so highly, I’m trying to pay attention to your mother’s advice. Are you coming or staying?”

I unbuckled my seat belt. “Coming.”

Okay, a word about ghouls. Yes, fine, I’ll admit it: They do actually scare me quite a bit. The thing is, with vampires, it’s a straightforward transaction. Vamps provide you with hypnotic pleasure in exchange for sucking your blood. If they deem you worthy, in time, they might deign to change you and make you one of them. If they don’t, like Jen’s sister, Bethany, you’re a blood-slut until they get tired of you and either kill you, which fortunately hadn’t happened to anyone since I’d been working for the department, or cut you loose, at which point in time you’re like any hopeless addict.

Ghouls are different.

By and large, ghouls are as deathless as vampires, but they feed on their victims’ emotions, which is why they’re drawn to the most vulnerable, abused members of society. And that scared me, because in a deep, dark part of me, I could see the appeal of it. I struggled to control my emotions on a minute-to-minute basis. The thought of relinquishing that control . . . Well, there was something sinfully, mindlessly, blissfully appealing in it.

Also terrifying. Because, for better or worse, my emotions defined me.

I took a deep breath before I got out of the car. A handful of gleaming motorcycles were parked outside the bar, mostly Harleys. Because yes, as if ghouls weren’t intimidating enough in the first place, most of them belong to biker gangs.

Although truth be told, the bikes themselves were works of art, gleaming and gorgeous. Fighting a perverse urge to try on the nearest for size, I sidled past them, shoving my hands in my pockets.

Cody gave me an odd look. “What are you doing?”