by Sariah Skye
“This is beautiful, you guys. Seriously. You didn’t have to do this, really. It’s too much,” I insisted.
“Nonsense.” Mathias dismissed my protest with a wave of his hand. “You have to dress for success, right?” He smirked, adjusting and slightly tightening his tie. “It’s no different than making the club as nice as can be. Word will get out, and people will come in in droves.”
“And you don’t even have to be here for it most of the time,” Bash reminded me. “Link is fully in control of everything, and Naomi? She’s a powerhouse. She seems dainty and frilly but she’s not. She’s fair but knows her shit even though it’s only been a couple of days.”
“Agreed, running a bar for as long as I did—well, we did,” Xander said, motioning between him and Bash, “we’ve checked everything. She will do well, she is on top of everything, even after this short time.”
I loosed a tense breath, feeling tension leave my shoulders. I glimpsed at each of them in turn, and said with quiet humility, “Thank you, guys.”
“It’s our pleasure.” Mathias crossed the room, and had joined us. Slipping his huge hands under my arms, he lifted me into the air effortlessly, so I looked down on him as he beamed, spun me around once gently before bringing me to his chest, my feet back to the ground. “Anything for you, beautiful girl,” he whispered into my ear. “I love you so much, I’d do anything to make you happy.”
Did he just—? Slowly I glanced up at him, gauging his expression. Did he mean to say that, or did it just inadvertently slip? His gaze was steady, but a deep flush tinted his slightly dimpled cheeks. I couldn’t tell. But my heart fluttered in my ribs as I grinned. I wanted so much to repeat the words, but I don’t think the other guys heard him because they seemed nonplussed, and I didn’t feel right saying it for the first time to him in front of them. So I just smiled warmly, wrapping myself around him tighter, not wanting to let go. I could have stayed like that all night, especially with the other guys hovering about, offering their support but Link entered, interrupting our moment of affection.
“Well, everything is in place, it should be a successful opening,” he said. “Link”—Lincoln Abrams—was a pale fae with white hair, gray eyes, and a baby face. But he was older than he appeared and not someone to be taken lightly. There was definitely more to Link than met the eye. “You ready?” He asked me.
I pulled away from Mathias, shrugging. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”
“Good. Let’s get things staged and ready, okay?” He carried a large tablet at his side and began fiddling with the display. “So, you want two of you with Avalon at all times, yes?” He spoke directly to Mathias.
Narrowing my eyes, I snapped my fingers in his direction, scowling. “Um, Avalon is right here. I’m a big girl, I can handle myself!”
Trystan snorted behind me cynically. “Yer bum’s oot da windae. It takes four of us to handle you, clearly.” I glared at him scathingly while Link smirked.
“Yes, I’ll be monitoring the entrances until I know we can trust these new bodyguards. Bash has bar duty,” Mathias said. “So, Trystan and Xan will be escorting you through the club, wherever you want to go.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but Bash interjected. “Remember, Ava? Missing supes and missing people. We’re not taking any chances.”
Sighing loudly, I reluctantly agreed. There were worse things than being on the arms of two sexy supes, right?
Chapter Nine
When the club officially opened, I stood nearby the entrance to watch all the pretty, happy, and some of them tipsy clubbers come in. Normally, there were two entrances to the place but for tonight we were only operating one. Partially, because Mathias wanted to stand guard along the already formidably sized bouncers at the beginning to intimidate any troublemakers that would have caused problems when Morgaine owned the place. I never asked but it almost seemed like the guys—the incubi—to chase off competition had a tendency to make men nervous. Or maybe it was just because other men were intimidated by their abnormally good looks. But at the door Mathias postured and glowered in no uncertain terms to anyone that even looked at him funny that he meant business. A couple of younger guys—couldn’t have been more than nineteen at the oldest—actually saw him, turned, and ran in fear. The subtle smirk on Mathias’ face afterward was absolutely priceless. Sometimes, I still didn’t understand how such a big badass could still be so warm and gentle. Just went to show first impressions were often wrong.
He was still sexy as hell though, and he earned quite a few flirty side-eyes from female patrons. I’d be infuriated if they openly gawked and drooled like before; for some reason whatever incubus allure that was disengaged on Bash and Trystan was also not working on Mathias. The theory that somehow, our magic was cancelling each other out was becoming more plausible all the time.
The music was pumping loudly from the dance floor a short distance away and already the bars were busy, and the dancefloor was filling up. Trystan was grabbing drinks for us—him, Xander, and me—so it was just Xander and I milling about the hallway as people filed in. I couldn’t help watching the two bouncers; they weren’t the big, scary, red-skinned demons that Morgaine seemed to employ before, after the club closed they all disappeared. But they were still big and while I wouldn’t say quite scary, I certainly wouldn’t want to be at the receiving end of their anger. One “gentleman” wore a high-necked black t-shirt that was so tight over his stacked muscled build that it appeared painted on; the same could be said for his jeans as well. He wasn’t unattractive, though—just not my type—with shortly cropped black hair, a severe, brown eyed stare, and thick veins were wrapped around his tanned arms. Between checking I.D.’s and marking the hands of underage club-goers, he kept trying to pull the neck of his shirt higher, as if he were hiding a strange reddish-orange birthmark on the side of his neck. It didn’t appear to be like a tattoo; purposefully and brightly drawn, but it was definitely shaped like something. From here I couldn’t tell what, though.
“Tell me,” I said, speaking loudly enough to be heard over the pulsing music behind us. I nudged Xander, who hadn’t budged more than an arm’s length away from me all night—and it should have been annoying, but he played the part of a doting boyfriend so well I didn’t mind. “He can’t be human. There’s just something about him that’s… different.”
Xander craned his head around a couple of young women, socializing in the hallway, taking selfies of their perfectly made up faces. One of the women noticed him and eyed him head to toe, smiling slowly; clearly liking what she saw. Irritated, I took a step to the side and threaded my arm around his, as he was completely oblivious to her admiration. She caught my eye and lifted a brow, quickly turning away. She grabbed her friend by the arm and slipped passed us and into the dancefloor.
“They’re not human,” Xander said, after a moment.
“Huh?” I asked, momentary forgetting what I had even asked him in the first place. He pointed at the large bouncer. “Oh yeah. Him. What is he, then?”
Xander grinned slowly. “Dragon.”
My mouth fell open. “Like… dragon dragons? How to Train Your Dragon, dragons?!”
He stifled a laugh. “Ah, don’t ever say something like that to them; being ridden by humans in their dragon form is taboo.”
“How can you tell though? I mean it’s obvious he isn’t human but if I wasn’t really paying attention, I never would have thought he was anything other than some muscle-head.”
“See that strange mark behind his ear, sorta? That’s his dragon’s mark. Every dragon has one; they usually appear like tattoos. Usually some kind of symbol marking his element or magic,” he explained.
“Element?”
Xander nodded. “Yeah, they have magic—like Rhys’ magic. But it’s usually determined by what color they are. He is probably either a red or orange dragon; meaning he probably has fire.”
“Well, don’t all dragons breathe fire?” I asked.
“Yes, an
d no,” Xander said, with a wink. His gaze shifted then, and he peered around me, his eyes narrowing.
“What?” I asked quickly, spinning around on my kitten-heels to see a pack of three men. One of them seemed to be pointedly looking away, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Did you see that?” Xander asked, equal parts of astonishment and irritation.
“What?” I asked.
“He totally checked you out. His eyes totally lingered over your ass. Any longer and I was about to lay the jackass out!” Xander scowled, pointedly watching the three guys down the hallway, probably heading towards the restrooms.
I smiled smugly, elbowing him in the chest. “See how it feels now?”
He frowned petulantly. “Yeah yeah. I get it. I just…this is weird. Really weird. We should ask Lach—” he snapped his mouth shut quickly, looking abashed. “Crap, I’m sorry. I guess it was beginning to be a habit to talk to him about a lot of things.”
I glanced away from his sympathetic gaze—the weight of it making me uncomfortable—to watch my feet as I kicked at an invisible object on the ground. “Two weeks and I haven’t heard from him. What if he’s—”
Xander stepped forward, closing the distance between us. With the crook of his finger, he tipped my chin upward until I faced him. “Avie, we will get him back. I promise. He’s a tough, smart man. He’s okay, I know he is.” His gaze was penetrative and intense, like he was searching my soul. “And the reason I know this about him is because you are; tough, and smart.” Grinning slowly, I wrapped my arms around his neck and rose up on my tiptoes, seeking out his lips with my own, kissing him gently but a little tauntingly. He responded in kind by sliding his hand over my cheek, urging me forward, lips parting, beckoning me in.
I broke apart though before giving him what he wanted. “Just smart and tough?” I asked with flirty expectation, trailing a finger over his neck and down the bare skin of his chest.
Xander breathed in sharply, eyes fluttering shut briefly, and opening again, his black irises rimmed with crimson. He flashed me one of his trademark, sidelong smiles. “Did I forget to mention sexy and beautiful and a damned temptress?” I beamed as he brushed a finger over my temple, fingering a blonde tendril that had fallen out of my bun and leaned in closer, aiming to kiss me again. Until a large mass of an underage, shaggy blond-haired male boisterously slammed into Xander’s back, pushing him so hard he nearly fell on top of me. Damn…
The shaggy dude called back a sheepish “Sorry!” and then proceeded to deck his friend, as they disappeared into the lounge area down the hall loudly. Xander composed himself quickly and gave me a quick once over, bracing his balance by gripping my shoulders. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” I said, smoothing my palms over my hair to fix any strays, and straightening out my blouse.
Xander slid his hand into mine and nodded towards the dancefloor. “Come on, I have a feeling it’s going to get even more crowded out here soon and we’ll get slammed against the wall.”
I nodded in agreement. “Where’s Trystan with those drinks, anyway?”
“Good question.” We walked hand in hand, dodging unruly patrons as we slipped into the large atrium that was filling quickly with the same unruly patrons. I froze in my tracks as a rather loud song with a heavy beat filled the air, and people cheered loudly; obviously it was a good one even though I didn’t recognize it.
“Avie?” Xander questioned loudly over the noise.
My heart started to palpitate, and my breath felt strangled in my chest. The hand attached to Xander’s suddenly felt clammy, and I pulled away abruptly, choking down a burning bile sensation rising in my throat.
He leaned over and whispered huskily into my ear, so closely his breath tickled my skin, raising little mounds of gooseflesh. “Should I get Bash and help you with Tai Chi again?”
I swallowed this time, but for a different reason; the image of being pressed against the both of their shirtless bodies in the sultry heat sending tingles between my legs. I grinned slowly, turning to him. “It’s Tai Chi Chih,” I said with a wink.
He slapped his hand against his forehead, grumbling something non-complementary in Chinese. “Come on…” he said, chuckling. “I got you. Trust me?” He shot me a pleading look and held out a hand.
“Hmm. I think so,” I said with a slow grin, and I let him lead me to the bar on the opposite side of the dance floor.
Bash and one other bartender—the same college-aged guy from the night I met the guys—were behind the counter mixing drinks, chatting, and smiling with various patrons. I lifted a brow, admiring Bash in his tight shirt and jeans, handing a drink off to a red-haired woman, offering her a polite smile. Her eyes lingered over his backside a little too long for my comfort as he turned around to retrieve bottles for his next concoction. I dragged Xander a little too quickly, yanking roughly on his arm as I sidled up to the bar, accidentally hip checking her and knocking her out of her gaze.
“Whoops,” I said, smiling innocently. “Sorry!”
Sipping her icy drink, she just nodded at me indifferently and followed her friend onto the dancefloor.
“Aww, doesn’t he look cute there behind the bar?” A Scottish voice drawled kiddingly as Trystan edged up to me.
I snorted. Bash caught wind of him and shot him a scathing look. “Ha ha,” he said, smiling at me quickly before turning to the next customer, but not before pretending to exaggeratedly scratch the side of his nose with his middle finger. Trystan cackled wickedly.
“He does look cute,” I said, rather loudly so he could hear me. He didn’t scowl but offered me a huge smile.
“So, how ya doin’ lass?” Trystan leaned over the bar counter, propping himself up by his elbows as he sipped a large beer, the solid muscles of his back flexing underneath his tight t-shirt; blue jeans nicely hugging his ass. I bit my lip to hide a seductive smile and came up beside him; Xander settled in next to me. The music pounded behind us, a sea of bodies swaying to noisy beats and loud voices and I felt secure between the two of them, their ridged forms acting as pillars to keep me grounded. Normally I’d be panicking in a setting like this but now? I was feeling better and enjoying any excuse to see the guys—my guys—dressed up, feeling good, and most importantly: their unwavering presences beside me.
“Avie, luv? Ye okay?” Trystan gently waved his hand in my face, I didn’t realize I’d been staring, especially as he licked his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue after taking a sip of his drink. He smirked slowly when he noticed what I was doing.
Xander chortled from next to me but grinned good-naturedly when I stopped dazing, and I poked him gently in the arm. “Damn, the service here really stinks. I should file a formal complaint with the manager!” Xander said loudly.
Bash handed off a drink to someone, exchanging it for a wad of cash. As he began another drink he frowned at Xander and went to stand across from me over the bar. “You can try,” he said, reaching out to affectionately brush his hand along the side of my cheek. “But I know the owner pretty well. Not sure what good it’ll do.”
Xander grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Just get us something to drink, asshole.”
“One step ahead of you.” He set a clear, plastic wine glass of red wine in front of me, and a mixed drink of something clear and icy in front of Xander.
“Thank you,” I said, smiling and winking exaggeratedly at the cute blond bartender before me.
“Och, luv you’ve become such a flirt,” Trystan acknowledged, nudging me carefully with a little hip-bump. “I like it,” he added with a big grin.
I shrugged nonchalantly, hiding my smirk behind my glass. “It’s your fault.”
He chuckled into his beer. “Aye, I’ll take credit for that.”
“Here you are!” A female voice said behind us. The three of us turned to see Naomi, wearing a magenta colored sheath dress that should have probably looked obnoxious with her exceedingly bright red hair, but somehow she pulled it off. She carried a large table
t and after swiping at the screen, she tucked it under her arm. “Link tells me you know something about electronics?”
Xander shrugged easily, after a long swig of his drink. “Yeah, either Bash or me. But he’s otherwise indisposed,” he said nodding towards Bash who had already moved on to the next customer. “What’s up?”
“The speaker is giving off a little feedback. Hear it?” She pointed upwards, like the sound was from up above. It was hard to notice, but after a loud beat, it was giving off a screechy echo. Xander frowned sourly.
“Ugh, that’s awful. Trystan?” He nodded at the eagle-shifter, and they seemed exchanged a silent understanding. “I’ll be back,” he said to me, and followed Naomi through the sea of people to tend to the speaker—or whatever it was one did when it was malfunctioning.
“You get to watch me, huh?” I asked, bumping him with my shoulder.
Trystan smiled at me, his expression full of heat as he wrapped an arm around my waist. “I’ll watch ye all night long if ye let me.” He bent at the waist, tilting his head as if he were about to get close for a kiss or otherwise when he suddenly grumbled. “Shite,” he groused, fishing his cell out of his front jeans pocket. The display illuminated his handsome face in the light, and he sighed.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Mathias. There’s some trouble at the door. I need to…” He didn’t finish his statement as he waved over the bar, getting Bash’s attention.
“I can come with,” I insisted, knowing exactly what he was going to say: stay with the magically, anxiety ridden invalid.
“No, lass. I prefer to spare you the rowdy supes. I know what they can get like here; someone just needs to lay down the law so they know shite that happened with Morgaine ain’t gonna fly with us.”
“Mathias and the dragon-shifters weren’t enough to scare them away?” Bash questioned, surprised. “Shit, just Mathias alone would scare the crap out of the devil himself.”