Take Her to HeVan

by Lucy Kelly

  Returning to the table, the others all looked their question and waited to have their curiosity satisfied. “They are Sybars; that is why there are no women here. The back room is set up for sybaritic interludes.”

  “The driver brought us here because this must be where men go to have their last night before giving their lives over to a woman. It’s an interesting culture.”

  Before he could say anything else, Brad returned. There were two men following behind him and all three were carrying two ice buckets each. In each bucket were two bottles. Karlo noticed some fabric sticking out from the tight pocket of his jeans.

  “Alright. Now, I have the champagne here so we’ll have to have a toast. You two should be sitting next to each other so you can smooch,” said Brad as they opened the champagne and passed out the glasses.

  “Why should I kiss my brother?” Charl asked with mild curiosity. “None of my research about bachelor nights involved this.”

  “Your brother? You told me you were getting married,” said Brad in confusion.

  “We are; we’re marrying Marla tomorrow afternoon,” said Charl.

  “Well, honey, if you’re straight, why are you having your bachelor party in a gay bar instead of a strip club?” asked Brad, as he cocked a hip to the side and rested one hand there as he used his other hand to punctuate his speech.

  “This is a bachelor night, only for the men. Marla and the women went elsewhere,” said Charl.

  “Honey, what planet are you from?”

  Charl was taken aback for a moment and wondered what mistake he’d made and then he took a closer look at the man’s expression and realized he was using a metaphor.

  “We come from a small island in the Mediterranean,” he said, giving their cover story.

  “Well, normally when men—and I’m talking about straight men. You are all straight, right, because it would make my night if one or two of your friends swung for my team. Anyway, straight guys usually spend their last night of freedom looking at naked women because it will be the last time they’ll get a chance to see any naked women other than their wife. You aren’t going to see any naked women here. Naked men now…”

  Just then, the band started up and the noise level increased. Charl stood and putting a hand on Brad’s shoulder, he leaned over to speak in his ear. “The only female I’m interested in seeing naked is mine. Tonight we celebrate being men. On our island, there are more than twenty men for every woman. We are accustomed to the company of men. Do not worry, we will enjoy ourselves. Bring more champagne.”

  Patting his shoulder, he turned to the other men and shouted out, “Let’s dance!”

  Handing Brad some more money, he led the way to the dance floor. It was similar to the music that had been playing over the speakers when they first entered the club, only louder with a beat you could feel in your body.

  Without realizing it, Karlo, Charl, Markus, and the others, started the movements of age old folk dances passed down through the Houses. They clapped their hands, stomped their feet, and let themselves go. Some of the other men on the dance floor tried to copy their moves and the Nephilim were happy to show them the steps.

  They had been on the dance floor for about half an hour when they saw Brad waving to them madly from the edge of the floor. He shook this ass over to where Karlo was dancing. “Honey, your food’s here,” he told him loudly to be heard over the music.

  Karlo passed the word amongst the dancers and a little bit later, when the song ended, they left the floor. When they got to their seats, though, the table had been split apart again and other people were sitting there.

  “Don’t worry, come with me, honey,” said Brad, taking Karlo’s hand. He then danced his way through the tables, pulling a line of Nephilim through the club. Many of the other patrons hooted. One or two thought it was a kind of conga line and enamored of the beautiful men, started to follow. Brad had led them into a room separated by an arched doorway, near the entrance to the back room.

  “This is our party room. I thought you might like to have your food in here where you can hear each other talk. As you can see, I’ve moved all the jackets and champagne. Is there anything else I can get you?”

  “Thank you, Brad, this is great. We’ve worked up an appetite. How about bringing us some water? We’re all thirsty and this champagne shouldn’t be guzzled,” said Karlo.

  “You have a nice club here,” said Markus, on his way out to the restroom.

  “Fifteen waters coming up,” said Brad before he looked around and saw that there were more men. Some of the regular patrons had sat down with the guys and were talking with them. Brad decided to bring enough for everyone with extra pitchers for refills. He didn’t even try to tell the regulars these guys weren’t gay; they’d find out.

  *****

  While the guys were sitting down to eat, the ladies were just leaving the hotel. They had already eaten and spent time talking and going through all of Marla’s new clothes. Now Julie and Amy were going to bed and the rest of the ladies were going dancing. On the way out, they dropped off all of Marla’s new things in her suite.

  When they saw the stretch limo, they all hooted. Inside there was one bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice that had mostly melted and several coolers of bottled water and lemonade for the other women. Since all the women except Marla were pregnant, she was the only one drinking alcohol.

  “If I get blotto, no taking pictures and posting on Facebook,” Marla said.

  “That leaves a lot of other possibilities,” joked Becky.

  “Let me qualify that; no pictures of me, unless you have my full sober agreement. And I get to view any and all images before publication. I need to veto any pics where my ass looks fat or I just look weird.”

  “I’m sorry, you’ll have to quantify weird,” said Sarah.

  “I’m not really photogenic. So my rules stand,” said Marla.

  “Not going to comply, hon,” said Tammy. “We’re all sporting baby bumps and yet we’re heading out to dance up a storm to celebrate you marrying those two hunks. This means as preggo females, who have to pee every hour on the hour, we are willing to put up with public restrooms for you. And we’ll be stone cold sober at the same time, so while you can explain away anything you don’t like on the grounds of drunkenness, we don’t have the same option. So suck it up, buttercup, we’re taking lots of pictures.”

  Marla leaned over and patted Tammy’s knee. “Okay, you win. Lots of pictures of the ladies with the babies, and I’ll use the alcohol defense.”

  Becky opened up a bag she had carried out with her and handed Marla a rhinestone tiara with a short veil hanging from it. “Here you go, it’s mandatory that the bride-to-be wears this. We don’t want people to think this is a baby shower.”

  When Marla put the silly tiara on, she began to really get in the party mood. “Woohoo!” she shouted when the champagne cork popped. “Say, driver, put on some dance music,” she called out.

  When the music came on, she started bouncing in her seat; the other women were also moving with the music and some were singing along with the lyrics.

  “Hey, I know you can’t have any alcohol but none of you are drinking at all, how come?” Marla asked.

  “We don’t want to take in liquids until there’s a restroom nearby. That’s one thing about being pregnant; your bladder is squished down to the size of a garbanzo bean. So you have to take a trip to the bathroom every ten minutes, or so it seems,” said Becky.

  “Then, when you finally get to go, your garbanzo bean only let’s out the ten drops it can hold. Really frustrating,” added Sarah.

  “Gee, you’re making this sound like so much fun. But this is a bachelorette party not a ‘who-has-the-worst-symptoms’ party. So we need a new topic. How about let’s talk about sex. That should be enlightening.”

  So the rest of the way to the dance club, the women all shared their sexcapades with their Ankida. The driver was amazed and a little embarrassed.

&n
bsp; All the women were glowing with laughter when they arrived at the dance club. Tammy used her connections as a former concierge to get them past the line and straight in.

  They could all feel the music pulsing around them as they entered the club through the front doors. Tammy took the lead and met the club’s manager just inside; she had texted their arrival. The manager led them to a group of chairs and tables at the side of the club. Except for Marla, all the women had baby bumps, so they appreciated the comfy chairs.

  “I’m going to order up drinks but the rest of you go ahead and dance,” said Tammy, turning to the manager. Becky handed her bulging bag to Tammy. “Then you are official holder of the communal purse. Come on ladies; let’s show ‘em our preggo moves.”

  “Um—Becky?” said Susan.

  “Change of plans. Bathroom first, then the dance floor,” said Becky.

  Marla went with them. She wanted to check how she looked in a mirror wearing the tiara. Her new friends had already taken a bunch of pictures. It was important to do everything she could to cut down the odds of embarrassment. When she saw herself in the harsh light of the bathroom…she was actually pretty pleased. She’d worn a strapless jumpsuit in black with a leather waist cincher and a cropped jacket with a paisley pattern in peacock colors. The rhinestones and the white of the veil went well with the outfit. She pulled her lipstick out and freshened up, letting all of the other ladies use the facilities first.

  When she got her turn in a stall, the downside of her outfit choice hit her like a bucket of ice over the head without the benefit of making money for charity. What was she thinking, wearing a jumpsuit? Blowing out a breath and vowing to cut down on liquids, she took off her belt and hung it up. Then, blessing the fact that her jumpsuit was strapless and she could keep her jacket on, she reached for the zipper under her left arm and unzipped down to her left hip. Yeah, I’m not wearing this out drinking again.

  When Marla was finally ready to leave, everyone else was already gone. Since there was a line, she quickly went to the sink to wash her hands. As she rushed out to get back to the group, she didn’t notice the woman just opening a stall door.

  Sheila Walters stepped out of the stall and instead of heading to a sink she followed her ex-best friend, ignoring the looks from the other patrons. She’d heard a rumor that Marla was on her honeymoon. So why was she wearing that cheap tiara and veil? Sheila was in love with Jake O’Brien and Jake wanted Marla’s land. So Sheila would do whatever she could to help him. Pulling out her cell phone, she moved into the shadows where she could keep track of Marla without being seen.

  “What do you want, Sheila?” asked Jake when he answered.

  He was busy getting drunk. Yesterday he’d gotten the court papers his mother had been served with and finally sent to him in the mail. Shit! What was he supposed to do now? It was too late to contest the annulment. Why did his mother have to be so scatterbrained? Of course, his father had liked her that way; she didn’t interfere with his business. Why couldn’t Marla have been more like that?

  “I’m at the dance club on Pearl and 19th. Marla is here having a bachelorette party. Didn’t you tell me she was on her honeymoon?”

  “It doesn’t matter if she was married a month ago or is getting married tomorrow. She married me first. Don’t worry, Sheila; in a couple of weeks, when the eighteen months are up, the land will be mine.”

  Jake hung up on Sheila. He had to think. It appeared that all was not lost after all. First, he would destroy the papers explaining about the annulment. His lawyers could argue that he’d never been served. If that didn’t work, he’d buy the land when it came up for sale. Of course, Marla would have to die before she married anybody else.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Karlo, Charl, and the rest of the men were enjoying their night out. The food was delicious, the champagne had been nice, and the aged whiskey even better. Along with all that, they were learning about another part of Earth culture. The men were similar to all the other men they had come in contact with. The only difference was when they were what they called ‘out’ they were treated differently.

  It was strange. The Sybars of HeVan had never had this problem. After all, you couldn’t control whom you loved.

  “So you have gay people on your island?” asked the man named Gary. He was wearing jeans and an unbuttoned plaid cotton shirt to show off his chest.

  “We did for many generations. However, over the years they became fewer and fewer until there were no more. Not because they were treated badly, but because they didn’t have children. With so few women, there wasn’t anyone willing to be a surrogate for their offspring. The genetic strain became extinct in the population,” explained Markus, before he took another drink.

  “If there are so many men and so few women, how come the men haven’t turned to each other for sex, like they do in prisons?” another guy wanted to know.

  “Oh, we all experimented in our youth, as both men and women do. It’s just a natural part of growing up and discovering yourself. While I can’t speak for everyone on my…island, I know there are no longer any gays in my…village. Of course, with so many of us marrying women from outside, it’s possible some of our children will be gay,” he allowed.

  “And would they be treated okay? On your island?” asked Gary.

  “Of course! Why wouldn’t they?”

  Before any more questions could be asked, his cell phone rang. When he saw it was Tammy, Markus excused himself to answer it. He glanced up, hearing other ring tones, and he saw that most of the warriors were also answering their phones. He felt suddenly cold and worried.

  *****

  Marla had put it off as long as she could. Unfortunately, she was going to have to visit the ladies room again. She might look hot, but she was never wearing this jumpsuit again. Exiting the dance floor, she headed to the back of the club where the restrooms were located. Walking in, she was happy to see there was no line this time. She and the two ladies who walked in with her were able to go straight into stalls.

  Marla wasn’t surprised to find she was alone when she washed her hands. It took her longer to get undressed and then make sure she looked alright before leaving. When she stepped into the hallway, it was dark. Someone had turned out the light or the bulb had blown. She turned in the direction of the club and had started down the hall, when the door across from her opened and Jake O’Brien, the very last person she ever wanted to see, came into the hallway.

  Before she could blister him with her tongue, he lashed out, swinging a fist at her temple. She never even had a chance to scream. The lights went out and she started to fall. Jake caught her up before she could hit the floor. He slung her over his shoulder and headed toward the back door. Only one guy saw them but with Marla over his shoulder, he didn’t see Jake’s face. As the door slammed shut behind them, her veil got caught on the latch and pulled free.

  *****

  Markus looked through the archway into the club as Tammy spoke in his ear. Ishme and Nyal, Becky’s Ankida, came to stand beside him and he lifted an arm to point out Karlo and Charl on the dance floor. The two men left to get them.

  “We’re on our way back, Tammy. Unfortunately, we’re in Denver so it’s going to take over an hour for us to get there. I want you all to go back to the hotel where you’ll be safe. Julie and Amy’s Ankida can start the search. I need to know you’re safe, Tammy, you and our unborn child. Will you do as I ask?”

  “Of course, I’m not going to do anything that would put me in danger. Just remember, Markus, we are not without gifts of our own. We’ll get back to the hotel and wait for you. I got the name and phone of the man who saw her carried out the back door. He thought she was going off with her fiancé.”

  “Did he get a description of who took her?”

  “No, he didn’t see the man’s face. The only thing he could tell us was the guy was taller. Probably a little over six feet, that’s all we’ve got. We haven’t called the police yet. I wanted to c
all you first. If you’re not going to get here for an hour, though, I think we should call the police now. I don’t think we can afford to wait.”

  “Yes, you’ll have to call the police. However, it’s important you get to the hotel and safety as soon as possible,” said Markus.

  “Becky and I are going to stay here at the club and send the others back to the hotel in the limo. We’ll stay with the manager in his office, along with the one witness we found. I love you, Markus; keep Karlo and Charl under control, okay?”

  “I will do my best,” he said, understanding what she meant. They could not reveal they were Nephilim. It was going to be nearly impossible to keep them from exacting justice, especially if Marla was harmed in any way.

  He ended his call and turned to face Karlo and Charl.

  “What is wrong, Markus? Ishme and Nyal would only say you needed us. Has one of your Beleti gone into labor?” asked Karlo as he looked at all the warriors behind Markus. They all had hard looks on their faces. What could have happened?

  “We need to leave immediately; Marla has been taken. Time is short.”

  Both Karlo’s and Charl’s heads snapped up and their eyes went hot. Turning, they moved to leave, the other Nephilim falling into ranks behind them. They were all putting off so much angry energy, the crowds parted like repelling magnets as they walked through the club; no one wanted to confront them.

  Brad, their waiter, approached Markus at the end of the line of men as they passed. “Markus? What’s happened? Is there a problem?” he asked, wanting to head off any disagreements. Did one of the patrons go too far flirting with these men? If they wanted to, they could tear the club apart.

  Markus pulled his attention from his brethren and looked to Brad. He handed him a wad of cash without bothering to count it. “The bride has been kidnapped, we’re leaving.”

  It was the last thing Brad had expected to hear. Markus was almost to the door before he had gathered his wits. “Good luck!” he shouted before he looked down and saw all the hundreds of dollars in his hand. There was enough money there to cover their entire evening and they had been giving him cash all night long. He walked back to the back room to clear off the tables. He would add up the bar tab and put the extra money aside. No way had they intended to overpay by so much; they’d be back for the overages. Stuffing the cash in his pocket, he put down his tray and started gathering up glasses and the few opened bottles of liquor that had been left behind. He sure didn’t want to be whoever was dumb enough to take something from one of those men.