Cooper jumped from the end of the bar, fumbling for his car keys knowing he'd have precious few seconds to get in and get it started. Feeling like he might make it, Cooper hit the door at a run, slamming into the lever, but the door didn't move. Panic hit him. The thick wood took his pounding, giving nothing. The lever rattled up and down, but nothing happened. Through the smoked glass, the moon shown through the trees-tall, huge pine trees green in the snow and moonlight. It wasn't the parking lot.
He stared, jerked out of his shock when someone touched him. "No!" he shouted as he was yanked backward into the room, grunting as he hit the floor and curled up to avoid crushing the kitten. His keys went flying, the Harley bell that his grandmother had given him ringing clear and sharp as it pinged across the floor.
As one, every single vampire cowered, howling in pain. He froze, seeing the little bell roll in a circle to become silent. First one, then another black head rose to look at him, pain still etched on their faces.
Cooper surged after his keys, scrambling on the floor until the little key chain with the Florida emblem and the Harley biker bell that his grandmother said would keep him from hitting potholes was back in his grasp. "You're animals!" he shouted, shaking it to make it ring, and they all fell back in pain. Only Felicity's father stood tall at the far end of the room. Blood trickled from the man's ear, and Cooper remembered the bells on the shop door hadn't rung when Emily and Felicity crossed the threshold.
With a renewed hope, he ran for the door. "Let me out! Let me through!" he screamed, pounding on it.
A crack split the air, throwing him back into the bar. The lights went out as he hit the floor, landing awkwardly so he wouldn't hurt the kitten still in his arms. The door swung out and open, and the cold night smelling of exhaust spilled in: gray snow, frozen slush, leafless trees, and the lights from the gas station across the street illuminating the parking lot that held a scattering of cars.
Standing beside his snow-covered Volvo, staring at the bar with her feet spread wide and her hands on her hips, was Kay.
Scrambling, Cooper lunged for the door as it began to close.
"Cooper!" Kay cried, her red scarf flying as she ran forward. "Don't let the door shut! For God's sake, keep it open! Keep it open!"
Cooper scrambled out onto the threshold, breathing in the smell of exhaust and cold snow. The people in line waiting to get in were gone. Behind him, the bar was filled with angry howls and screams. The moon was down. It had to be almost dawn. Felicity's cry of pain jerked him straight and he looked behind him into the darkness. She was a monster. Why should he care? She wanted to turn him into a goddamned dancing fey, bloodsucking vampire!
"Cooper, don't let the door shut!"
He flung out his free hand at the last moment, the heavy wood pinching his fingers before he pushed it open again. Inside, someone was screaming his name. "Kay?" he stammered as she slid to a breathless halt beside him, her eyes bright and her red scarf falling off her neck. Her fur-tufted boots were leaving clumps of snow on the swept front, and she looked alive, thrilled. "What are you doing here?" he asked, then yanked her back when she tried to go in. "Stop!" he shouted. "It's a flesh club! I saw one take a chunk out of someone!"
Kay jerked her attention from the dark opening, grinning. A strong scent of pine wafted over him, clearing his head, and the kitten in his arms stirred. "Yeah, I know," she said. "Don't let go of the door," she added as she put his hand on the door. "Promise me you'll keep the door open for me. Please, Cooper. I don't know how, but you got the door open. You can hold it. Just give me five minutes. That's all I want. Five minutes."
"You can't go in there!" he exclaimed.
"I can now," she said, flashing him a savage smile. And then she ran, screaming as she dove through the opening and vanished in the darkness of the bar.
A second later, a flash of red light lit the room, glittering scarlet in the chandeliers and turning the gold on the bar to a burgundy sheen. Shocked, he stared at the cowering forms and savage snarls. His hand slipped from the door, but he caught the edge before it shut again, grunting when he needed to put all his weight behind it to pull it back open. He almost let it go again in surprise when two cats raced over the threshold, their coats smoking as they ran into the snow. When he looked back, the stage was on fire.
No one was trying to get out. Figures slumped across tables or on the floor. The people still moving were screaming in outrage-snarling as they circled the stage and tried to get into an inky black spot at the back of it. It hung behind a smoky gray figure wielding a bright sword. Whenever someone would try for the fog, the apparition would attack, cutting them down with three swipes and a horrific, satisfied scream. That others would slip in behind it and escape while their brethren died was not going unnoticed, but the sword wielder didn't seem to care as long as someone was dying.
"It's on fire," he whispered as he realized the sword wasn't glowing red from reflecting flame. The sword was really on fire.
Blood slicked the stage and dripped to the floor with each new sweep of the blade and falling body kicked off the sword. Feeling ill, Cooper slumped, almost letting the door slip shut as a wave of nausea hit him. "Kay?" he warbled, finally sitting down on the cold cement to prop the door open. It felt as if his energy, his stamina, was being sucked into the bar. "Kay? I can't hold it . . ." he whispered, his hands still cradling the kitten, now a shivering ball. His fingers were so cold he couldn't feel the softness of fur, and he hunched into himself, holding the door open with his deadweight as the screams grew fewer, more distinct, and finally, ended.
"Kay," he whispered, not altogether conscious when someone smelling like a pine tree wedged a shoulder under him and lifted.
"God save you, Cooper," he heard Kay whisper, and he felt them start to move. "I told you it was slippery tonight."
"The people," he muttered, unable to lift his head as he shuffled over frozen ruts, kitten cradled in his arms.
"I couldn't save them," she said, her voice lacking her usual warmth. "I don't even know how you got out."
"Didn't eat the food," he said, shambling forward. "Grandma told me not to eat food with dancing . . . fairies."
A boom of sound shoved them forward as the bar exploded, and by the light of it burning, Kay got his passenger-side door open. She practically shoved him in and slammed the door shut. It seemed like forever before the driver's-side door opened, and he blearily watched her grunt at his key ring, giving the bell a little tap. "That might explain it," she said. "Cooper, you are one lucky bastard," she added as she revved the engine and left Gateways to burn to ash behind them.