“They wouldn’t come and take a bite out of one of these two, would they?”
Brigid started to protest the men were fine, but she had to admit Carwyn might have a point. She crouched down in front of another of the men. “Wake up.” She patted his cheek, giving him a slight shock from her amnis when he was slow to rouse.
“Fuck.” The man jerked awake. “Where the hell am I?”
“How far can an alligator travel from water?” Brigid asked. “We’re not from around here, so I don’t know.”
The man looked around himself in a panic. “George? Buddy?”
“Answer the question.” She patted his cheek. “Alligators. Are you in danger from them if we leave you here?”
The man they called Buddy appeared to still be sleeping, but he spoke slowly and in an accent that Brigid barely understood.
“Yeah, gators gonna be a problem all right,” he muttered quietly.
Did she care?
Not really, but Carwyn might.
Brigid stood and walked back to the van. “He said the alligators wouldn’t be a problem.”
Her husband frowned. “Are you sure?”
“Very sure. Come on now; we need to get to New Orleans before sunrise.” She walked quickly to the van.
Carwyn started to follow her. “We’ll call and report them from the highway.”
“Excellent idea.” That should get the men arrested before the creatures ate them.
The last thing Brigid needed was another black mark against her soul. She might be immortal, but eventually she’d be judged.
And if it wasn’t Saint Peter, she’d have to face Carwyn.
They were heading back toward the highway within minutes, and Brigid sighed in relief. No more local police officers. No more shady characters at darkened petrol stations. They were back in the world of the American interstate system, replete with garish neon signs, brightly lit parking lots the size of football fields, and plastic-packaged food that smelled of chemicals.
“I need to feed.” She’d been half hoping the police officer wouldn’t fall for Carwyn’s friendly-Irish-priest bit and would cause them problems.
No.
He hadn’t agreed to be her dinner.
“We’ll be at a safe club in two and a half hours. Can you make it that long?”
She cracked open a bottle of blood-wine and drank. “This should keep me from any road rage incidents.”
“Good, but crawl in back to drink that unless you want another encounter with law enforcement.”
“Fine.” She crawled in the back of the van and kicked her feet up on the bench. “Onward then.”
“To the wedding!” Carwyn grinned as he took the on-ramp.
“To the wedding.” Brigid took an extra gulp of blood-wine.
To the wedding.
The wedding.
On second thought, maybe she should have stayed behind with the alligators.