He paused his wooing to glance around the room and noticed me. He must have seen something he did not like, because the smile slid off his face. He sat straighter.

I reached back. My fingers grasped Slayer’s hilt and withdrew it in a smooth fluid motion. Bono’s hand dropped under the table, groping for a gun. He carried a 9mm Colt in his jacket pocket.

I crashed to a halt before the booth. A thin redhead in a strapless short dress sat opposite Bono. I put my saber on the table. Bono “stank” of vampires and the saber fluoresced weakly, a sliver of moonlight against the dark wood. The redhead’s eyes went wide. Bono’s face relaxed a bit but his gaze never left mine.

“Hey, Bono,” I said. “Nice to see you. Fuck any corpses lately?”

The last hope for a relaxing evening bled from his face. “Not any you’d care about.”

The redhead scrambled out of the booth and fled, trying to salvage some shred of dignity. Bono threw a wistful look after her retreating backside and turned to me.

“You scared her. Not nice, Kate.”

I raised an eyebrow at him and slid in the seat vacated by the redhead.

“Did you read the article I gave you?” he asked.

“No.”

“You should read it, Kate. You should read about the upiri.”

I traced Slayer’s blade with my finger. It stung a little as the magic discharge touched my skin.

“I want to know about the diviner’s death. I want to know why one of Ghastek’s bloodsuckers was at the scene. I want to know who was piloting it and what they saw. I want to know what tore his head off. And whatever else you’ll find necessary to add.”

Bono showed me his teeth. “Feeling a bit on edge today, are you?”

My hand closed about the hilt. “You have no idea.”

He leaned back. “Go ahead,” he said. “Make a play. I’ll ass-fuck you with that saber.”

I grinned at him. “You can’t take me, Bono. Go ahead and try. You telegraph your punches, you drop your left shoulder, and your gun isn’t worth piss with magic up. So come on. Show me what you’ve got.”

I saw his eyes and knew my grin had turned into a hungry grimace. “I really need to hurt something. It’ll make me feel good.” I was almost laughing, having a hard time containing myself. “Give me a reason. Come on, Bono. Just give me a fucking reason.”

Magic built around me, drawn from the environment by the emanations from my blood. If magic had color, I would be sitting in a whirlpool of red. Slayer flared bright silver, feeding off my anger. It wanted to slice into warm flesh and I was about to let it.