Theresa didn't duck away from the look. Her shoes were new, a pair of Doc Martens that she'd splurged on. They didn't add much height, but at barely five feet tall anything was a help. There was an empty stool next to Deanna at the bar. The brunette's slight weight moved to occupy it.

'She'll get you staked.' Rhiannon's words tried to float to the top of her consciousness. She pushed them back under. What was unlife without a little danger?

"Hi. Again."

She'd seen the scars before she sat down, and up close it was clear that they were fading. The redhead had been tangling with someone. Not that it made her less of a knockout. If anything, it made her look tough, not just elegant.

"I'd hate to see the other guy."