“They’re good people,” Antoinette said after they were gone.
“How old are their children?” Kitt asked.
“About five or six, I think—why?” Antoinette looked at her.
“It can be hard on an Animalian to watch his human loved ones grow old and die if he marries a human.” Kitt looked down at her hands. “Especially if the children don’t awaken to their Bestiabeo heritage either.”
“What are the chances they will?” Tones asked.
“Less than fifty percent,” Kitt said.
“A little more than that in this case,” a deep female voice said from behind.
Antoinette turned to find Buddy’s sister with a tray of drinks balanced in one hand. She smiled, placed the tray on the table, then picked up a chair and turned it around, straddling the seat and resting her forearms on the back. “Here’s a round on the house,” she said.
“Kitt, Tones—this is Jenni,” Antoinette said.
The female was Amazonian in physique. She extended a muscular arm to each of them. She had a jagged scar running across her throat.
Antoinette caught a glimpse of a tattoo on the canian’s chest, half covered by her tank top. She glanced at Kitt, whose eyes were also glued to the same spot. It was hard to tell from the little that showed, but it looked similar to Raven’s.
Antoinette leaned back in her chair. “Are you looking after the bar today?”
Jenni glanced over her shoulder. “Yeah, but we’re breaking in a new guy, a coyote from up country. And I’m giving him a solo run to see how he handles it.”
“What’s your Pack name,” Kitt asked with a slight tremble in her voice, her eyes flicking between the canian’s face and the tattoo.
“Goodblood.” Jenni frowned, becoming a little cagey.
“Buddy and Sherry’s kids . . .” Antoinette interjected, hoping to distract them before Kitt said something Oberon might regret, “Why do you say they have more than a fifty percent chance?”
“Uh”—Jenni dragged her wary gaze back to Antoinette—“Sherry’s mother was canian.”
Kitt leaned forward. “Well, that’s not so bad.”
“What do you mean?” Tones asked.
“Being a latent Bestiabeo gives her a chance of a longer life span; not as long as a full Bestiabeo, but at least a couple of hundred years.”
Jenni relaxed a little. “And she’s expecting again. Which is why we’re taking on extra staff. Last time nearly killed her and Buddy’s real worried.”
“I can understand that,” Kitt said. “Bestiabeo pregnancies are demanding, especially in a human’s body. And the last trimester can be very dangerous.”
“Yeah—but she wants those pups so damn much.” Jenni shook her head.
Voices started to rise over by the bar, and Jenni glanced over her shoulder again. “Shit! Looks like my cue. That coyote has a bit of a quick temper.” She grinned. “Might have to beat that out of him.”
Antoinette had no doubt she could. Kitt leaned into Antoinette. “That tattoo—I think she was a Draconus Nocti operative.”
Antoinette watched Jenni walk back to the bar. “We should tell Oberon. Maybe Raven knows them.”
“I’d say that would be a yes.” Tones gave a slight nod to the door. Raven was standing there, looking at Jenni.
The Amazonian glanced over and broke into a grin, which Raven returned. His eyes swept the room—past his table of friends for a split second, then back, stopping on Kitt. He turned away and walked toward Jenni with purpose. Antoinette wondered if they’d been lovers—and from the looks of it, she wasn’t the only one: a slight frown creased Kitt’s brow, her eyes following his progress toward Sherry’s sister-in-law.
Jenni came around the bar to meet him and gripped his right forearm with her right hand, as he did hers. A handshake of warriors. They exchanged soft words—so soft that Antoinette couldn’t make them out with all the background noise, even with her enhanced hearing.
As he said something to Jenni, she turned to look in their direction. She nodded and returned to behind the bar as Raven made his way over to them.
“I didn’t know you were coming here,” he said, his eyes never leaving Kitt’s face.
“Antoinette brought us,” she replied, raising her chin a little higher. “I didn’t know you knew anyone here.”
“Who? Jenn?” Raven glanced back at the bar. “The Goodbloods and I go way back. Before us,” he said, looking straight at Kitt.
“The Draconus Nocti?” Antoinette asked.
The canian raised an eyebrow in surprise and gave a simple nod. Tones gave a low, impressed whistle.
“Anyway, I’m here on business,” Raven said quickly. “I’ll leave you to your drinks.” He bent low to whisper into Kitt’s ear. Antoinette managed to make out “I’ll explain later.”
“No need,” she said in a curt tone and picked up her cocktail. “It’s none of my business.”
Raven opened his mouth but closed it again—leaving whatever he was going to say unsaid. He turned on his heels and stalked back toward the bar, his hands clasped into fists at his side. Jenni greeted him with a tilt of her close-cropped head and led him behind to the office door at the end of the bar.
Antoinette leaned forward and picked up her glass. “How about we forget all about the Dark Brethren, campus killers, and Draconus Nocti for now and just enjoy ourselves.”
“Hear, hear,” Tones agreed, picking up his own drink and sniffing it. He took a tentative sip. His face lit up and he took a bigger mouthful. He eyes closed and he made a funny little noise in the back of this throat. He placed the glass back on the table and noticed them watching. Antoinette laughed at the expression on his face.
“Very good vegan,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “I really didn’t expect it to be genuine.”
A band on the small stage started tuning up when they were on their third round of drinks and Kitt was just beginning to feel relaxed. The belladonna in the drink wasn’t like the moonshine she drank with Oberon. This was a legal-strength kind—just enough to give her a nice, mellow buzz and enhance the effects of the other alcohol in the drink. At least enough to take her mind off the fact that Raven was alone with another woman only a few feet away.
What are they doing in there?
“Oh yes. The Blast,” Antoinette said, watching the band. “They’re great to dance to.”
“You dance”—Tones’s eyebrows rose high in disbelief—“to this?”
“Yeah, why?” Antoinette’s voice took on a defensive tone.
Tones shrugged. “I just thought you would be more into alternative music, like pagan rock or something.”
“I’m very eclectic with my music tastes, and I was recently introduced to the joys of a good boot-scooting, honky-tonk hoedown.”
“Eighties music for me, especially British bands like the Smiths, the Cure, U2, Spandau Ballet, Duran Duran,” Tones said and beamed. “But nothing beats a good Carpenters melody.”
Kitt smiled. From his devout humegetarian practices, to his animal-activist activities, it didn’t surprise her in the least to find out he liked the Carpenters. But eighties’ British bands?—that was really different.
“You just continuously surprise me, Tones,” Antoinette said, tilting her head. “However, today you are going to dance with a couple of females to the dulcet tones of the Blast.”
As if hearing her introduction, the band started a rocking honky-tonk rhythm. Antoinette grabbed Kitt by the hand and pulled her out of her chair.
“No, I don’t know how,” Kitt said, trying to drag herself back to the table.
“I’ll teach you.” Antoinette’s smile was pure joy.
Tones followed with a big, cheesy grin on his face. He really did worship the ground she walked on. A fact Kitt was sure Antoinette was not totally oblivious too, but she never encouraged him.
They joined a line forming in front of the stage. For the early morning, there were quite a few people here. Parahumans need to
let their hair down too. Kitt saw a few students from her class, and was surprised to see Cal joining in the line behind her. All she could do was smile and wave as the lines started to move to the tune.
At first, Kitt mixed up her feet and went left as everyone went right but soon got into the rhythm. Tones was really good. He tucked his thumbs into the top of his jeans and stepped in time to the music with all the flourish of a seasoned professional.
With her head light from the belladonna, the music and other people’s enthusiasm, Kitt started to giggle and then laugh. It was silly, heady fun—she hadn’t enjoyed herself so much in a very long time. Antoinette grinned. Kitt wouldn’t have thought the frightening Aeternus she’d seen in the alley was capable of having such simple fun, but here she was, dancing her ass off.
Kitt was a little sorry when the music finished, until another song started—this time a different repetitive dance sequence, but she soon picked up the steps. She couldn’t keep the grin from her own face and suddenly worked out why Antoinette came here.
To do and be something completely different.
And to get away from all the death.
The real world would come crashing down on them soon enough; there was no point dwelling on it now. All she had to do was enjoy herself.
Kitt hugged Antoinette, then Tones. Someone tapped her on the shoulder. Cal stood behind her and Kitt hugged her too.
“What are you doing here?” she said in the girl’s ear.
“Having fun, just like you,” Cal replied.
Kitt grabbed her by the hand and dragged her off the dance floor to their table.
When they were seated, Kitt asked, “How did you get here?”
She pointed to some girls on the dance floor. “Some friends of mine from the Academy heard about this place and decided to check it out.”
“What about your uncle? Does he know you’re here?”
The girl shook her head. “Seph and I tricked the bodyguards. Today, I go out while she covers for me, and tomorrow I cover for her while she gets to escape. They’re all way too serious—no one has any fun back there. It’s the only way we can stay sane.”
A shadow fell across the table. Antoinette looked up, half expecting Raven, but a heavyset male with the physique and dress sense of a long-haul trucker placed his hand on the back of Kitt’s chair and leaned in. “Hey, pretty lady. How ’bout a dance?”
Kitt looked up at him. His mouth twisted into something that resembled a smile, but his eyes were narrowed and predatory. Even if she had been tempted to dance, she would’ve said no.
“Hey, thanks for the offer, mate.” Cal winked as the corners of her mouth turned up sweetly. “Maybe later. Right now, we’re talking.”
Another male closed in behind Cal, obviously his friend, from the way they similarly dressed. “Who said it was an offer?”
Kitt shifted in her seat. This was not good. Not good at all.
From their tribal scars and snow white hair, Kitt knew they were ursian, of the polar bear Family—the more aggressive of the Bestiabeo races. And there was one thing she knew for sure—these guys were not going to take no for an answer. If only Raven was out here. Damn him.
She looked around for backup and saw Antoinette coming off the floor still laughing, but she slowed a few feet away when she glanced over at them. The Aeternus seemed to take in the situation with one intense and calculating frown, then with a slight nod at Kitt, she plastered the smile back on her face and approached.
“Well, you gals can talk all you want after we have a dance.” The male behind Cal moved in closer to block any avenue of escape.
“Is there a problem here?” Antoinette asked as she came around to Kitt’s side.
“What’s it to you?” asked Kitt’s would-be sweetheart.
Antoinette’s hand kneaded Kitt’s shoulder with a possessive squeeze. “You harassing my girl?”
“Your girl?” The guy snorted. “Yeah, right.”
Antoinette buried her hand in Kitt’s hair, and gently yanked back her head. Then before she had time to prepare, Antoinette kissed her. Not the usual peck on the cheek a friend gives a friend, but a full openmouthed, tongue-tangling, toe-curling, passionate embrace.
When she drew back, the Aeternus gave Kitt a cheeky wink. Kitt could hardly breathe, partly out of shock and partly because she was a fraction turned on. She’d never kissed a woman before, never even thought of it, and never really wanted to again. But that kiss had been something.
Antoinette turned back to the two slack-jawed ursians—hand on hip. “She’s mine and she’s not interested.”
“Way hey, hey,” said the guy nearest to Cal, his cheeks flushed. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
The other one didn’t look so excited. “All we want is a little dance with these gals, and maybe then show them what they’s missin’ out on.”
Antoinette sighed, looked up, then dropped her head with a shake. The two males closed in even more aggressively than before. Kitt had a feeling this was about to get ugly and looked around for the bartender, Raven, or Jenni before it got out of hand.
Antoinette’s smile sent a familiar tremble of dread down Kitt’s backbone.
“I tried, but fuck it.” Antoinette grabbed the nearest male’s shirt with both hands. He easily outweighed her by two hundred pounds, but when she smashed her forehead into the bridge of his nose, he stumbled back, his hands flying up to his mangled face.
His friend leaned forward and extended a right hook to Antoinette’s jaw, sending her flying into the table behind.
“Hey!” Cal shot to her feet and jabbed a punch into the second male’s gut. As he doubled over, she slammed the heel of her right hand against his nose.
The people sitting behind, whose table Antoinette had crashed into, weren’t the least bit happy about having their evening interrupted. Not taking anyone’s side, they pushed her away with an excessive amount of force. Antoinette spun around, hands up in apology when one of the guys at the table hit her full in the face, rocking her head back but not much else.
The Aeternus female got that lethal look in her eye and Kitt jumped up to stop her from taking the human’s head off. For her trouble, she got slammed in the side of the face by another human just as one of the ursians recovered enough to spin Antoinette around for a teeth-rattling blow. Kitt grabbed the human by the arm, twisted it around behind him, and slammed him face-first into his table. Antoinette grinned widely and gave Kitt an approving thumbs-up before kicking the other advancing ursian hard between the legs.
The bear of a man collapsed to his knees with a crashing thud as he clutched his precious, wounded jewels. Cal leaned sideways and smashed the other ursian in the face with her foot, sending him to land on his friend.
Out of nowhere, Tones flew in to land on top of the duo. They didn’t take long to recover, and a fist thrust out of the pile of arms, legs, and fat to collect Tones on the chin. He climbed from the floor a few feet away, his shaven head shaking. Cal and Antoinette stood side by side ready, waiting for their opponents to get up as Tones leapt on the table beside them and kicked the first one in the head before launching himself on the back of the second.
The fighting had spread to the dance floor too. Kitt watched as a couple of males crashed onto the stage and into the twin Marshall amps behind the bass player wearing a Blast T-shirt with a semi-faded Tom written across the top. The other members in the band kept playing as Tom brought down his bass guitar on the heads of the wrestling fighters and kicked them off the stage. Literally. Then without breaking his stride, he turned around and picked up another instrument from the stand, plugged it in, and continued to play.
“Behind you,” Cal warned.
Kitt turned to find the human with a bloody face and a butterfly knife in his hand. Raven appeared behind the knifeman, his face a lethal mask of rage, with bared teeth and dark intense eyes. He snapped the human’s wrist with a quick twist, and spun him around to face him.
“DON’T KILL HIM!” she yelled.
Raven looked through her as if he didn’t see her, then his features relaxed and he dropped the man. With two striding steps, he was at her side and wrapping her in his arms as Jenni waded in to pluck Tones off the pile of bodies with one hand.
“Take him,” the Amazonian growled and shoved him toward Antoinette. “How many times have I told you two?” Jenni picked the ursians up by the scruff of their necks. “No fighting in my place.”
“We only wanted a dance with the pretty girls,” the first ursian mumbled.
“Yeah,” the second said with a bit more force. “Just one innocent dance.”
“Hey!—No means no,” Jenni said as their fight started to come back and they both began to struggle. She brought their heads together in an almighty crack and the ursians crumpled to the floor, unconscious. It took a lot of force to knock out any Bestiabeo, let alone a couple of hardheaded bears.
The burly female bartender picked up one, slung him over her shoulder like a sack of corn, and carried him out of the bar. A moment later she stalked back into the bar and did the same with the other one.
Then the coyote bartender righted tables and piled together pieces of broken chairs.
Kitt’s hands were still shaking. That fight had been as scary as hell, but at the same time, she’d rather enjoyed it in a perverse, adrenaline-pumping way. And maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t completely helpless after all.
Raven picked up an overturned chair and sat her down at the table. Miraculously, their table was still upright with her drink intact. She drew a long mouthful of alcohol-laced fruit juice through the straw. As she sat back, a strange aftertaste coated her tongue.
“Maybe we should go . . .” The words sounded slurred in Kitt’s ears.
Surely she wasn’t that drunk. The cocktail. The aftertaste. Her blood ran cold. “Heeeyyyy,” she drawled. “Tha’s not m’drink.”
Kitt’s vision swam and her head spun. She clutched the edge of the table and tried to stand, but her legs wanted to go in the opposite direction she did.
Death’s Sweet Embrace Page 22