by Sariah Skye
“Sure—sure man. You got it.”
“Good. Oh, and you might wanna rethink who you go home with tonight,” he said, jerking his shoulder at the young female. “I’m pretty sure she isn’t legal.”
The girl’s mouth fell open in horror, but even under the dim, black lights you could see her blush.
I snickered, as they began arguing, and my ‘knight’ pulled me through the crowd, up to the bar.
“Got anything for the lady here? She’s injured,” he questioned the bartender, who immediately set down the drink he was fixing and tended to us.
The college-aged bartender produced a first aid kid from under the bar. “Here you go,” he said, his tone and demeanor slightly nervous. He was clearly intimidated by my auburn-haired, t-shirt-clad knight. I couldn’t blame him; he had a commanding presence.
“What is your name?” the ‘knight’ asked me, still holding my injured hand in his; the other hand rummaging through the first aid kid.
“Ava. Well, Avalon Dawson, really, but my friends call me Avie,” I replied, forcing a smile through my nervousness. I blinked, when I suddenly realized I gave him my name: my real name. I’d been embarrassed by the name Avalon as long as I could remember; it was the choice of my arty, witch-lore loving mother. Usually I went by Ava. Heck, it was even on my paychecks. Why did I feel the sudden need to tell him my actual name?
“Avalon. That’s an unusual name,” he spoke gently, even over the loud music and cacophony of club goers around us. “I’m Trystan. And now that we know each other, can I call you Avie?”
I bit my lip, hard, in attempt to stop the goofy smile from spreading across my face. “Of course,” I said. You can call me anything you want, whenever you want, I thought to myself.
I saw the ghost of a smile on Trystan’s insanely handsome face. But it was quickly swiped away with a look of seriousness as he tended to my wound.
“It’s really not that bad,” I insisted, feeling suddenly strange that this total stranger was taking care of me. Normally, I was completely invisible. Now, some gorgeous guy was actually tending to me, like we were old friends.
“Nonsense, these places are disgusting.” Trystan wrinkled his nose; it was adorable on his tough, chiseled face.
I chuckled lightly. “Yes, they are.”
“So, what are you doing here then?” He asked, looking up from his first aid.
I lifted a brow. “I could ask you the same question.”
He grinned. “Fair enough, lass. My friends and I were bored. Hoping to bump into some new, interesting people.” Trystan nodded over his shoulder to two other men, at the opposite end of the bar. Both equally gorgeous as Trystan; one was blond, with blue eyes and the other was Asian; a little bit shorter than his friend, but still intimidating in his good looks.
“Holy…” I muttered, not even noticing when Trystan poured a stinging substance all over my hand, and wiped it off with cotton.
“See something you like, lass?” Trystan said with a playful wink. He patted my hand as he finished bandaging it. “There, good as new.”
I looked between him, and his friends. They’d been talking quietly to themselves, but suddenly, both their gazes lifted.
The blond was taller; probably taller than Trystan. Slightly less muscular and broad but his blue eyes sparkled with mischievousness even from across the room. His lips were full, and formed a playful grin when he spotted me. His friend was no less attractive; about the same height as Trystan, with jet black hair and piercing black, exotic eyes. He too gave me a slight grin, his smirk raised partially higher on one side which said, “I’d be the best you ever had.”
I swallowed nervously. I wasn’t used to having eyes on me. Especially three pairs of eyes—gorgeous eyes, belonging to three hot men. My throat was suddenly dry and words failed to form. “I—” I squeaked. I blushed, facepalming myself at my own awkwardness.
I may generally be invisible, but I wasn’t someone who simpered or became tongue-tied around men. Even magnificent men. Not that I had much experience with this amount of magnificence…
Trystan chuckled. He began to motion to his friends, but we were interrupted.
“There you are!” Summer exclaimed, joining us at the bar. She noticed Trystan next to me, and grinned widely. “Well, now I see why you weren’t looking for me!”
Trystan bowed his head politely. “Your friend had a little mishap, just helping out.” He turned to me and grinned playfully. “Good to meet you, Avalon. Hopefully we’ll run into each other again.” Without barely a glance at Summer—which was odd for any man—he sauntered off.
I stared after him in motionless shock. He paused halfway across the room to glance over his shoulder, flashed me a grin, and then he was lost in the crowd.
“Avalon? You told him your name? Your real name?” Summer was waving her hand wildly in my face to catch my attention.
I blinked, releasing myself from a daze. “Yeah, not sure what I was thinking,” I said with an uncomfortable chuckle. “He was just cute. Him and his friends.”
Summer cocked a brow with interest. “Oh? There’s more?”
“Yeah, they’re—” I started pointing over Summer’s shoulder but, the hot Asian and the sexy blond were gone. “They were just—”
“Did you get his number?” Summer pushed my hand away and asked excitedly.
“No,” I gave her a severe look. “You interrupted me.”
Summer grinned sheepishly. “Well we’ll have to try to find them again, right? What did his friends look like?”
I snorted. “Hot. Just…hot.”
She smiled. “Well then. Let’s find them.” She ordered two drinks at the bar for us, and we were on the prowl, drinks in hand.
Attached to the large room with a dance floor were a couple of other smaller rooms; the next one we entered was a bit brighter and quieter than the last, with pool tables, and booths for sitting and socializing. No sign of the three hunky men, but plenty of flirty co-eds were everywhere having a good time. The next room was the same size as the last, with a stage, and large screen for karaoke. A group of goofy young guys on the stage were wearing trendy clothes, and trying—very badly—to rap to a new song I didn’t recognize. It was gag-inducing, but the room full of squealing girls’ shaking their bootys and tits at them begged to differ. I cringed; doing a once-over. “They’re not in here either.” I said, eager to leave the scene behind.
Summer and I opted to stand in the hallway outside, linking the different sections of the club together and containing the bathrooms. I waved my hand at my face, realizing I was out of breath. I figured it was from the humid heat. I placed the cool cup of vodka tonic against my forehead, sighing at the cool condensation.
“They were that hot huh?” Summer said with a nudge.
I rolled my eyes. “They were just guys,” I said with a nonchalant shrug, avoiding her eyes. They weren’t just guys; they were the hottest men I’d probably ever seen.
“Yeah, right,” she said, unconvinced. She adjusted her halter top to push up her boobs, and smoothed her hair along the sides of her head, checking for misplaced strands. “I’m not sure where they went. The ginger should pretty easy to spot; he definitely stands out. Not a lot of them here tonight.”
I snorted. “Yeah…” A fleeting image of his bright green eyes flashed through my mind, followed by the smirk of his raven-haired Asian friend, and the steely-eyed blond. I swallowed nervously as my heart thumped in my chest.
Summer laughed. “We definitely need to find these guys.” She nodded for me to follow her, and I did, to the front entrance. A rather imposing tall, burly gentleman with a long beard and bald heard stood there, monitoring everyone that entered the club.
“Excuse me,” Summer said, tapping him on the massive bicep. “We’re looking for our friends. A tall guy with sorta red hair and—” she motioned for me to finish.
“—uh, yeah. And his friends were tall too, one was blond, the other was an Asian guy. Pretty mus
cular, wearing black t-shirts. At least the redhead was,” I said, suddenly embarrassed to be talking to this strange bouncer about my sudden—and stupid—infatuation with a bunch of guys I’d only known for a split second.
“Sorry, doesn’t sound familiar,” he said, with a wry shrug. “Sorry.”
Summer wrinkled her face in an expression of bewilderment. “Where could they have gone? I know I at last saw one of them, he wasn’t a figment of my imagination.”
I shrugged. “Guess they left. Maybe there’s a back exit?”
She sighed. “Figures. First guy in forever you seemed like you could be into, too.”
I chortled, taking a long swig of my drink. The vodka burned on the way down my throat and I grimaced. “He paid attention to me, too. How about that?”
“Well…maybe we’ll find you someone else.” She grinned, the guys forgotten as she dragged me back into the club.
I humored her for the next couple of hours, dancing along to our favorite songs and nursing drinks; but all the while I was keeping my eyes fixated on the entry for any sign of Trystan and his friends. I didn’t see them again.
It was like they were never even here.
CHAPTER 3
I finally convinced Summer to leave the club just before last call. The only reason I stayed so long was the club emptied out dramatically; and between us, and a handful of other women, we were the only ones on the dancefloor. It gave us free space to just dance without grabby, or groping hands. I was mostly able to forget the stunning dudes, let loose and have fun with my friend. We’d managed to convince the deejay to play our favorite tunes from the early 2000s. We were still giggling about remembering our senior prom as we left the club.
“Ugh, okay I have to admit, that felt good,” I said begrudgingly, as we walked the streets of Downtown Minneapolis, heading for the light rail that would take us to close to home; we’d have to walk the rest of the way, or take a cab from the station since we didn’t dare drink and drive. The streets were fairly empty for an early Saturday morning, on a street full of clubs and restaurants. It was unusual, but there was probably some large event across the city that drew most of the crowds to it. I was thankful; I didn’t enjoy getting trampled by people on the sidewalk that didn’t seem to notice that I was there. The air was heavy with dew, and a warm breeze blew through the skyscrapers, making a low howling sound as it bent and twisted around them.
I frowned as I stepped, noticing my kitten-heeled shoes were starting to suddenly get very uncomfortable. “Stop for a second,” I said, and we leaned against a glass window outside of a café. Summer produced two pairs of foldable black flats from her clutch and handed me a pair. I stripped off the shoes, sighing with relief as I massaged the balls of my feet. “God, remember when we could stand in four-inch-heels and dance all night?”
Summer snorted. “Yeah, I blame work on this one. You sit most of the day; how can you be sore already?”
I playfully jabbed her in the arm. “I’m out of shape from it, that’s probably why. Clearly I need to step up my cardio game along with my lifting game as well.”
“Fair enough. You still look good though, girl,” Summer said with a grin.
“Thanks.” I was about to quip a joke, when out of the corner of my eye I noticed a flash of bright light. Raising a brow, I asked her, “Did you see that?”
Summer peered around, trying to see the origination of the white light. “Yeah. That was weird! Looked almost like a spotlight, but I don’t see anything?”
I scanned the street intently. Aside from a handful of people across the road, we were alone. No one else seemed at all bothered by the light, but it just struck me odd.
Another flash of white light suddenly blinded my vision, following by a low, muffled groan. I pointed to my right, on the other side of the café. “There! It’s coming from there!” I pulled my cell phone out of my clutch, ready to phone the police or film something for Youtube—whichever was more appropriate.
“Avie! You can’t go running off into an alley! What are you thinking?” she demanded, annoyed, but ran off after me anyway.
It wasn’t an alley per se, but a dark, grungy space between two buildings. And awning overheard from the next building protected the area from any moonlight coming in.
Okay so it was an alley, and it was really stupid of me to be in there. But I was already committed now.
Thankful for my quieter flats, I tiptoed carefully around the corner. The nighttime lighting from a window inside the café was the only illumination, barely exposing tall, green dumpsters, piles of boxes and plastic crates…and what appeared to be a handful of burly males towards the end.
I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Avie, this is nuts. Let’s go. I know we’re tough but there’s more than one of them. It’d be suicide to get in their way.”
I brushed her hand off my shoulder. “What if we’re the only thing that stands between someone getting murdered? What if it’s a woman, about to get raped?”
“Just call the cops, come on Avie! This is really dumb,” Summer said with persistence.
She was right. I should have just stepped away and called the police. But somehow, despite my brain saying, “Run, stupid!” I couldn’t help but step closer.
I narrowed my eyes and squinted my vision, trying to get a better look of the situation at the end of the alley. I could barely make out the forms of three large men, one in a black tee, another in a gray, another in a leather jacket, and one struggling on the ground.
“Avie!” Summer whispered urgently behind me.
I waved a hand behind me, with a flourish, indicating for her to hush and stay put. Hopefully she’d get the message.
I edged further down the alley, heart beating quickly, and adrenaline pumping through my body. I had no idea what I was doing—or why—only that I was drawn to this incident and couldn’t get away.
Dodging empty bottles and wrappers, I was close enough now to hear the voices.
“Just what did you think you were doing in there? Did you think you’d get away with it?”
“Aye, you’re right damn stupid to think you wouldn’t be caught in the open like that.”
Aye?
I let out a small gasp. One of the men began to turn, but I darted quickly behind one of the crate piles. It wasn’t solid, but hopefully he’d be too into whatever they were doing to notice me.
Between the holes of the crate, I better see the face of the man who turned. Steely blue eyes with an intense gaze, sandy blonde hair, and a closely-trimmed goatee on his jawline.
“Bash! What is it?”
The blond’s brow furrowed, his eyes sweeping over the alley. They didn’t linger on anything—specifically, me—and his companion slapped him on the back. “Nothing,” the blond (I knew now was named “Bash”) replied, and he turned back to the victim on the ground.
“Aye, laddie, pay attention or you’ll get us all killed,” drawled a very familiar accent. Bash’s companion shifted slightly so his head was easier to see in the light of the window. I pressed my fingers against my lips to prevent my voice escaping.
It was Trystan!
So, my rescuer—and friends—are deceptively kind after all. I should have known, no one that hot is normal; it was too good to be true.
“I’m sorry, man…I couldn’t help it! I was just so tired…”
“Did you notice that your victim wasn’t human, huh?” The third guy asked, his voice surprisingly low. If this was Trystan, and Bash was his friend, this dude with the deep voice had to be the hot Asian dude. It was so low and soothing my knees knocked together slightly. I had to stop them from going slack and falling to the ground. I’d already been on gross ground once today; didn’t want it again.
Wait. What did he mean “wasn’t human?” What else would he be? Animal? Vegetable?
“Aye, you would have found yourself not only drained, ye dumbarse, but dead as a doornail too.” That was unmistakably Trystan. His accent much more pronounced than be
fore when I met him. Sneaky bastard.
Wait…huh? Drained? Drained of…what?
All right, what did I get myself into? This is some crazy ass shit. Forget how hot they were. It was time to get the fuck out of Dodge. Or, rather, this dodgy alley.
I slowly crept backward, remaining hunched over, remaining successfully undetected until my foot made contact with a crushed pop can. It went scattering across the alley, clanging until it hit the other dumpster, making a loud ping sound.
“Shit.” I exclaimed quietly, through clenched teeth.
The three exquisite weirdos stood upright fully, craning their necks over their shoulders. Deep voice called out, “Who’s there?”
I snorted to myself. Like they really thought someone sneaking up on them would answer. They’re as dumb as they are hot, my inner monologue chuckled.
“Grab him!” Bash instructed. Deep Voice and Trystan leaned over, grabbing their victim by the arms.
I cocked a brow when I noticed who it was; the high pervert from the club who stepped on my hand. Maybe he was some sort of rapist after all, and they were about to kick his ass. Well, that I’d like to see.
Bash broke away from his friends, and stealthily slipped down the alley, fists raised in front of his upper body just in case. I wanted to giggle—I wouldn’t put up much of a fight. I’d kick him in his family jewels if I had to. I could kick. Hard. The billions of squats I did in between jobs during work made extra sure of that.
He peered around boxes, and kicked aside crates, until he was just feet in front of me, still hunched near the tall stack of crates. His eyes scanned the ground, like a hawk hunting for his prey.
My breath caught when he noticed the stack of crates. I squished down as much as I could, making myself smaller, praying somehow, he wouldn’t see me. “Please don’t see me, please don’t see me…” I mouthed silently.
His steely blue eyes hovered on the crates for a moment. He cocked a brow. “Hmm…” he said quietly to himself.
Oh shit… I wish I had some sort of camouflage right now—or a taser. Perhaps I really should take Summer’s suggestion to carry a taser with me at all times. Please don’t see me, please don’t see me… I thought over and over in my head, with futility; hoping my strange ability would magically kick in.