by Sariah Skye
Trystan shrugged, downing a large swallow of his beer, shoving the phone back into his pocket. “I dunno, I only know what he told me.”
“Are you sure it isn’t some kind of trick?” I suggested.
“Aye, it’s possible, but I’ll know real quick after I get into that hallway. Don’t leave the bar alone, please, okay?” He brushed his lips over my temple and squeezed my shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.
“That’s a bit strange,” Bash said, eyebrow raised. Someone pounded on the bar top, and Bash forced a smile. “Be right back,” he said, his voice full of irritation as he went to tend to a patron.
I shook my head, grinning into my wine, thankful for the relaxing, warm effect it was beginning to have on me. Swirling the deep red liquid in the glass, I couldn’t help but be reminded of the crimson of the guys’ eyes when they shaded with lust and an easy smile spread across my lips, even though it wasn’t directed to anyone around me.
A shadow appeared out of the corner of my eye as someone came up beside me, leaning over the bar top just as Trystan had done. I briefly glanced at him; he appeared to be a man in his mid-to-late twenties with deep brown eyes, a stocky build, and shaved black hair. He gave me a nod and a smile and I quickly looked away, pretending to be utterly intrigued by my drink.
“This is a nice place!” He said, loud enough to be heard over the noise.
“Yeah,” I said, offering him a polite smile as I took a long drink.
“It’s much better than it was. Have you been here before? I haven’t seen you before and I’m pretty regular,” he asked.
I chuckled dryly. Of course you wouldn’t have seen me, I wanted to say. But I just answered honestly, trying to keep any sign of interested inflection out of my voice. “Just a couple of times.”
“Ah, I see.” I eyed him suspiciously in my peripheral vision; he already clutched a drink in his hands and it appeared mostly full. “You’re a very attractive girl, I think I would have noticed you here before.”
I blinked. Oh god…he’s hitting on me. Giving him a quick once over, I decided he wasn’t altogether unattractive; a bit meat-headed, rather emotionless expression on his face. Not my type, but had I been unattached I might have been flattered. And surprised, because well… invisible and all.
Forcing an awkward smile, I continued to pay attention to my drink, not wanting to encourage him.
“Can I buy you a drink?” He asked.
I closed my eyes briefly to avoid rudely rolling them at his request. I simply raised my own glass pointedly. “Got one, thanks.”
“Ah.” The man didn’t budge though or was deterred. “Got a boyfriend then?”
I almost wanted to choke into my wine as I sipped while he asked his question. “Umm…not exactly?” Which was true, because I had four, but I felt like if I had said that he’d think I was full of shit and trying to blow him off with a lie. Which, now that I thought about it was the thing to do. Instead I realized that I just encouraged him.
“Complicated, huh?” The man next to me chuckled. “I’m Isaak.”
Smiling politely, I nodded towards him. “Nice to meet you,” I replied, purposefully evading my name.
“What do you do for a living?” Suddenly my skin crawled, as his eyes wandered over the length of my body. “Let me guess… model?”
I snorted loudly, rolling my eyes. “Really? Does that line generally work on women?”
Isaak just shrugged. “Most of the time.”
Despite myself, I smiled. Not because I was interested—because I wasn’t; but because it was amusing that something so obvious would work on someone. He was full of shit. “Actually,” I offered, “I’m in the club business.”
“Is that so?” He asked. “Which one?”
With a sweeping gesture, I motioned around us hoping that he’d get the hint: big bad businesswoman, not interested in you, go away.
“You own this place? That’s awesome!”
“Yeah, so I know all the bouncers and security here,” I said, smiling at him drolly, hoping he’d finally catch the hint.
With a slow, lecherous smile he regarded me, eyes pausing at my décolleté and the hint of cleavage poking out; especially as I was leaning over the bar. Dammit. I stood up quickly and smoothed out my blouse.
“I’ll bet you do. Say—” he began, but he was interrupted by the loud sound of a glass clinking on the surface. Bash was finished with his customer—or customers—and thankfully came to the rescue, glowering at the man—Isaak—his eyes dark and thunderous.
With exaggerated motions, he flashed me a flirtatiously predatory smile, bending over the bar until his face was just barely grazing mine. “Everything okay, babe?” He made a big production of reaching out, threading his fingers into the hair at my neck and pulling my face towards him. I barely even regarded the “gentleman” next to me as I parted my lips, waiting for him to crash his mouth against mine, and he did. But only after his steel eyes roamed over my face, drinking in my lips. His kiss was not gentle but fierce and purposeful, laying claim to me right in front of Isaak.
My eyes fluttered shut as Bash’s eager tongue sought mine, pressing against my lips for entry. He wasn’t shy about sticking it practically down my throat, and I quietly moaned into his mouth before he pulled away leaving my lipstick smeared gently, and my bottom lip swollen.
Bash glared pointedly at Isaak. “The lady is taken, so kindly step off, eh?”
Isaak shrugged with mocking indifference. “I don’t see a ring on her finger.”
Immediately Bash’s eyes narrowed, and he slammed his palms on the bar top. Isaak was definitely burlier, but Bash was fast, agile, and still about two inches taller; depending upon Isaak’s skills, he was probably no match for the master of a dozen martial arts. “Trust me, bastard, if the lady wants a ring, she’ll get one. Until then, get the fuck off my bar or I’ll be forced to remove you.”
My eyes widened at his words. If the lady wants a ring… Oh I could have fun with this!
Isaak just chuckled scathingly. He slammed down the contents of his drink, and crumbled the cup in one of his large, meaty hands, tossing it over the bar at Bash. “Whatever you say.” His eyes landed on me one more time, and he sauntered off.
Bash fumed, collecting himself with a deep breath before he looked at me, abashed. “Ah, sorry, babe. I lost my temper. I just—” I knew what he was waiting for; for me to get ticked off for him fighting my “battles” for me.
I shushed him by placing my finger on his lips as he eyed me with those intense, blue eyes with hesitance, probably waiting for me to slug him in the shoulder. Instead, I surprised even myself by grabbing the neck of his shirt, fisting the fabric tightly, pulled him forcibly to my lips and kissed him with such furious abandon my knees went weak and several customers nearby let out wolf-whistles. When we broke, Bash was so taken aback that he couldn’t speak; his voice caught in his throat along with his breath, his cheeks flushed bright red, the rims of his eyes shading with crimson lust. I still had a fistful of his shirt so he couldn’t pull back, not that he wanted to; the wanton expression on his face and hooded eyes were clear. “Goddammit, Bash. I just fucking love the shit out of you.” I blurted, without even realizing the words were coming out.
But now that they had…
Bash flinched, surprised and I finally released his shirt when I understood the magnitude of what I just said. He laughed uneasily, adjusting the stretched-out fabric to its appropriate spot over his chest. “That is… not that reaction I was expecting.”
My hand flew to my mouth. “Fuck…” was all I muttered, clearly sensing his unease. “I’m just gonna—go find Trystan or… flush my head in the toilet or something.” Giggling uncomfortably, I pointed with two fingers out to the hallway and began pushing my way through the crowds, away from Bash and the immense, life changing declaration I just made.
I was halfway through the atrium when a pair of strong hands clutched me by the waist and spun me around until
I was face to face with Bash. His hand grazed up my back, threading his fingers into the base of my hair and other hand still at my waist, he dipped me backwards and bent his body against mine and kissed me before I had an opportunity to say a word. His arms were strong around me, making me feel safe, even as our hearts drummed out of control. He eagerly pressed against my lips, demanding entry, our tongues thrashing against each other, eliciting a throaty moan from me that was thankfully, stifled.
“I fucking love you, too.” He said with intensity, his face still a whisper away from mine.
“What the hell did I miss?” Summer’s voice demanded behind me. I could just imagine her standing there, tapping her high-heeled foot, pursing her full lips. I wasn’t disappointed when I swiveled around and saw her there doing exactly that. I forced a nervous giggle.
“I need to get back to the bar before they riot,” Bash said into my ear, and he ambled back towards the bar, but not before slapping me in the ass before departing. He tossed me a sultry, smoldering look over his shoulder as he walked away.
Summer just stood there, eyes wide open, mouth agog even as she was shoved into inadvertently by another woman. It didn’t even phase her. “What. The. Fuck. Was. All. That?!”
I shrugged nonchalantly, tracing my thumb over the corners of my mouth to rub off any smeared lipstick. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said blankly.
“I…” She squeaked out strange little sounds as she pointed to me, then Bash who was back behind the bar like nothing had happened. Then she grabbed me firmly by the shoulders. “Oh, it’s on. Girl talk. Right now.” She began to push me through the atrium and to the restroom, only pausing quickly enough to say, “Bathroom!” to Trystan when we passed him in the hallway. I felt guilty for abandoning my post, but I wasn’t alone, and he’d be hot on our heels anyway.
“What the… shite,” I could hear him grumble before lapsing into confused Gaelic as we walked away; he was following but allowed us our privacy and hung back a few paces.
Summer shoved me past the short line of women into the bathroom; several protested but she swore at them angrily in Spanish and they backed off.
The restrooms had been updated with brand new sinks, fancy glass vanities, big mirrors, black stalls and a fresh coat of sparkly white paint. It was a far cry from the peeling paint and doors hanging off their hinges from before. A lounge was added as well with full length mirrors and black leather couches for relaxing. The lounge area was full so Summer pulled me into the large double stall at the farthest end and locked the door behind us.
“Where have you been?” I asked innocently, avoiding the topic of Bash.
Summer rolled her eyes. “Oh come on; I told you I was styling for a bachelorette party tonight and I’d meet everyone here as soon as I was finished. And by the looks of things it appears everything is a success.”
I grinned. “Yeah, everything looks great!”
She waggled a well-manicured, red-nailed finger at me. “You know that’s not what I mean. Did I just hear the l-word come out of Bash’s mouth?”
“Eh, maybe.” I gave a half shrug.
Summer beamed widely. “Avie, that’s awesome! Does that mean… well what does that mean for the others? Are you and him exclusive, or…” she scratched her forehead, tossing her brown waves over her shoulder. “How exactly does that work with four boyfriends?”
There was a slight vibration to the wall from the steady, driving beat of the dance floor music as I leaned my back against it casually. “It’s new territory for me too, Sum. Each relationship is different and separate from the other… basically. I don’t know!”
“Hmm…” Summer folded her arms over her chest. “So, how does one have a wedding with four guys? Do you just marry one of them, or—”
I pushed her gently, laughing. “We’re nowhere near that stage. Although…”
“Although?” She demanded expectantly.
Examining my lavender painted nails, I spoke casually. “There may have been talk of a ring.” I didn’t add that Bash said it to taunt Isaak the Douchecanoe.
Summer grinned ear to ear. “You’re kidding?”
“I don’t know, it was said in a strange context. He was probably kidding or something,” I said, frowning.
“Oh hell no—you don’t joke about that!” She insisted angrily.
I shook my head quickly. “No, it’s not like that. Today was…it was weird, Sum. We were at the mall today because I needed new underwear—” I stopped myself, as Summer let out a raucous laugh.
“I’ll bet you need new underwear! All that bodice-ripping going on with those four guys!”
I stared flatly at her. “Shows what you know. That only happens with Mathias,” I said, stifling a laugh over Mathias’ love of romance novels.
Summer’s laugh was so loud, it echoed off the supposedly-soundproofed walls.
Exhaling lowly, I paused for her to finish laughing. “Anyway, so we were walking the mall, and people were ignoring Bash and Trystan. Hell, you’ve seen how women fall over themselves just to get a glimpse of them.”
She nodded urgently. “Oh yes, I’ll never forget that. Drool all over the tables from them. Thought there was going to be a damned flood!”
“And you remember how everyone ignores the fuck out of me? I just got hit on at the bar!”
“Really? And did your guy-gaggle notice this? Did he walk out with his nuts intact?” Summer kidded, with a chuckle.
“Not at first. Xander was helping Naomi with one of the speakers, Trystan was going to help Mathias with some rowdy people apparently, so I was alone at the bar with Bash. Except, I wasn’t alone, of course,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “This dude came up and started hitting on me. Summer, I’ve never had that happen before!”
“Wow, that is… huh,” she said thoughtfully. “Maybe since you’re aware of your magic now and it’s not out of control it’s not shielding you from everyone. Maybe it was that simple all along.”
I shrugged. “Maybe. There was nothing simple about learning how to control it, though.”
“I know,” she said sympathetically. “Or, maybe you guys are more like werewolves after all. You fucked, got your magic all over them, and now everyone else can like, sense it and they back off.” Summer chuckled, only half kidding.
“Maybe,” I said with a shrug. “Oh well I guess it’s not that big of a deal. At least maybe we can actually go places and do things like normal people, huh?”
Summer grinned. “That’s the spirit.” She reached out and grasped my arm tightly. “Come find me later? I promised Naomi I’d meet her as soon as I got here and I haven’t even seen her yet. She’s gonna kill me.”
I snickered. “Awww, big, bad Summer Santiago, worried about upsetting her girlfriend. So sweet…” I jested affably.
“You should talk! You just got all starry-eyed after your boyfriend kissed you in public!”
We laughed, and I continued, “I guess we’re growing up, or something?”
Summer frowned. “Oh god, I hope not.” She nodded to the side. “You coming?”
“Eh, in a minute. This is a bathroom and all, and…” I gestured pointedly to the commode.
She chuckled. “Got it. See ya in a bit. You owe me a drink.”
“I think I can accommodate you. I’m pretty familiar with the bartender,” I said with a sly grin.
Summer chortled loudly. “I’ll say you are.” She giggled before opening and shutting the stall door behind her, waiting until I locked it to let go, and walked away.
Finally alone, I sat down on the pot—careful not to allow myself to slide in, I had enough experience with that, thank you—setting my elbows on my legs, and cradling my head with my hands. I was a flurry of mixed emotions and I needed time to process. Time that I wasn’t always given with the guys following me around all day. Between my anxiety sky-rocketing, the bizarre turn of events with whatever magic thing this was, and the talks of “love” and “rings” befuddling my head
I felt like I was on a rollercoaster ride. Not a bad ride, but fast with twists and turns and uncontrollable, powerless sensations. I’m not sure how long I sat there but it was long enough for the restroom to empty out some; the dull roar that had been in my ears from the music, the cacophony of voices everywhere, their absence was now making my ears ring now that I noticed.
I finally did my business and adjusted my skirt and blouse to make sure I was presentable. The ringing in my ears suddenly became louder, and I shifted uncomfortably. “Ouch,” I muttered, pressing my fingers tightly against their openings, trying to dull the ringing. Inadvertently, I reached to my side for my purse, hoping I had some pain reliever but remembered I left it locked in a small office we’d put in just passed the “secret” entrance to the Underground. Grumbling, I slid the lock out of place and pushed the stall door open, cringing at the influx of bright light just outside; I was getting a nasty headache now, I guessed.
“Hello, pretty lady.” A low, menacing voice greeted. One that clearly did not belong to a woman.
I cried out in surprise and attempted to take a step back to disappear back in the stall, but the large, fleshy hand of Isaak, the dude who just hit on me, grabbed my shoulder and prevented me from going anywhere.
“What do you want?” I demanded. “And, why are you in the women’s restroom? Is there something you should be admitting to yourself, or—”
Isaak’s black eyes flashed with the bright, blood red of anger, I recognized that trick.
Isaak was an incubus. Oh. Shit.
“Just wait here for a while. I think we should… chat.” The low grumble in his voice, and the leer of his mouth indicated chatting was the last thing on his mind.
My adrenaline surged as I suddenly realizing what was happening. I tried to twist out of his grip quickly, but he wasn’t having that. He grabbed me uncomfortably by the shoulders and slammed me against the wall.
“You are not going anywhere…cambion.” Isaak’s mouth spread into a greedy smile. “I have plans for you.”