Kyra
I had a double shift that day, apparently they weren’t just short staffed, they needed to hire another person after me. Tarek said it was because people quit only a few weeks in because they couldn’t handle the stress.
I wasn’t sure what was so stressful about a bar full of drunk people. I mean the entire place was beautiful when it wasn’t crowded at least. The lights were a silver blue pointed toward the dance floor, all of the tables and chairs were white, and they had a wooden bar that extended all the way across the room. It was classy, unique.
Just… crowded.
I checked my phone and frowned. My parents were on another dig, I swear all they did was search for mythological things that never existed in the first place. I’d been sad when they left the US again and even more confused when my mom looked at me as if I was the reason they were leaving. I shoved my phone back in my purse and shoved it in the employee locker then pulled my short hair back into a ponytail. After washing my hands I made my way toward the bar to set up the menus. Tarek was already pouring booze into bottles.
He pulled out two small shot glasses and dumped tequila in them. “Cheers! You’re going to need it today.”
I stared him down in confusion. “We can’t drink on the job.”
“Correction, we shouldn’t drink on the job, and normally I’d agree with you, but trust me on this,” He slid the shot glass over. “You’ll wish you would have had at least ten of these. Trust.” He grabbed a wash rag and started wiping up the bar just as the front door opened.
I wasn’t aware slow-motion walking actually happened in real life.
In movies, sure, they slow it down, edit, boom, you have the perfect entrance. But it wasn’t reality.
At least I didn’t think it was.
But I was fully experiencing it as Timber walked into the bar, his white blond hair looking like a halo over his head. His eyes went from what I could have sworn was red to a bright blue, and the smirk on his face, well let’s just say I averted my eyes because I was one hundred percent sure my heart couldn’t handle it.
Who looked like that and owned bars? Wasn’t he missing the Academy Awards or something?
I tried to busy myself despite the sudden heat I felt in my chest, and then realized I was literally staring at a shot glass, on the clock, and looking guilty.
“Day drinking?” He breezed past me.
“No.”
“Good.” He took my shot, downed it, and grumbled. “Wish it worked better.”
“Want me to pour you another?”
The corners of his mouth tilted into what felt like a mocking smile. “You could give me several bottles and I promise I could still drive home. It doesn’t work well for some people. I’m one of those people.”
“That’s physically impossible,” I pointed out trying not to stare too hard into his eyes, eyes that looked familiar.
“And yet… here I am.” He grabbed one of the bottles in front of me and then disappeared back into his office. Huh, so maybe that was why he owned bars. Alcoholic? Wanted an excuse to sit at his desk with a bottle of Jack?
I shoved the thought away, grabbed some of the bar menus, and put them on the table just as the music turned on.
Timber chose that moment—what, like five seconds later?—to walk out of his office, deposit an empty liquor bottle on the bar, and say, “Told you.”
He walked in a straight-line back; he looked tense, like he was upset that liquor had once again failed him some way.
“Impossible,” I muttered under my breath.
“That…” Tarek appeared out of nowhere. “…seems to be the case with all things Timber, but I promise, what you see, is truly what you get.”
I frowned. “He must have a high alcohol tolerance.”
Tarek snorted.
“What?”
He held up his hands. “Hey if you want to test that theory,” he eyed all the liquor bottles.
“I’m game.” I shrugged. Nothing else to do since we weren’t opening for another twenty minutes, besides there was something about him, something menacing and comforting all at once. He reminded me of the darkness, of my dreams, and I liked that more than I cared to admit. Great, two days in and I was acting crazy. “He likes Jack?”
“He likes to forget, and he needs to remember.” Tarek said cryptically. “Then again what do I know, I’m just a bartender with a man bun.”
“And a Scottish burr.”
“And here I thought I hid it so well.” He winked. “Not everything is as it seems, Kyra, remember that. Make the boss a drink, then get your ass back here to work.”
“On it.” I exhaled a breath and started mixing a concoction I’d seen on Facebook it was basically liquor on top of liquor on top of more liquor and finished off with beer. If that didn’t do the trick—he wasn’t human.
I snorted out a laugh at myself.
Right. What else could he be? A vampire.
I laughed again at myself, picked up the drink, and made the short trek to his office. The door was open. His eyes were locked on the screen of his laptop. “Did you need something person with the crazy name that makes no sense?”
“Oh good to know that’s how you’ll address me from here on out, kind of a mouthful don’t you think?”
And nothing, no twitching lips, no smile, just… silence.
And sighing.
The guy sighed a lot, like the world was a burden, like the air around him offended his person.
I’d met him, what? Twice? And I could already see that he just… wasn’t happy, no containment, no inspiration, just this waste of male beauty and darkness.
Something warmed in my chest.
He just… he needed something to be excited about.
Right?
“Here,” I walked fully into his office and set the drink down on the mahogany table. “You said booze doesn’t work on you and well, I like a good challenge.”
He eyed the drink skeptically. “Do you now?”
“Absolutely, if that doesn’t knock you on your ass, I’ll owe you.”
“What?”
“Huh?”
“What will you owe me?”
“Umm,” The air thickened around us. “What do you want?”
Electricity crackled between us, the air was heavy with… something. His eyes didn’t leave mine. “I’ll let you know once I win.”
“Too bad you’ll be completely drunk.”
“We’ll see.” He grinned finally, took a sip, then another. “It tastes like you played suicide with liquor instead of soda.”
“Best game ever, I always mixed my Mountain Dew with Doctor Pepper.” I said trying to lighten the mood and the tension swirling in his eyes. He gave off heat and something else, cinder maybe? But that would be crazy.
“What a monster you must have been” He finally grinned. “And you haven’t lived unless you’ve mixed coke with lemonade.”
I made a face.
“Trust me,” He winked and stood, then literally downed the rest of the drink in seconds before handing the glass back to me. “It was a valiant effort.”
“Well, wait for it to kick in.”
“I have a very aggressive metabolism.” He shrugged.
I waited for him to laugh, slur, say he was tired, thank me, kiss me, I mean really any sort of behavior other than him just staring at me with big bright blue eyes and darkness in his pupils would have been better.
“About that favor…” He leaned in, his hand grazed mine as he pressed the glass farther against me. And then his eyes flashed red so brief I probably imagined a trick of the lights. His knuckles grazed mine and then he gripped my hand. The glass dropped onto his desk shattering into several pieces. He shook his head then leaned forward. “Did you drug me?”
“With liquor? Yes.” I squinted, he seemed… brighter. “Are you okay?”
“You—” He leaned, swayed, then tightened his hold. “So many colors, like a painting, not dull at all. Like the desert, and heat, like the sun.”
“Um… should I get Tarek?” I backed away even as my heart picked up speed at the way his eyes bore into mine.
“Don’t you feel it? See it?” His eyes narrowed, and then he jerked his hand away from me and stared me down like I was a disease. “I should fire you.”
“For giving you a drink?”
He exhaled a curse and rounded the corner of the desk. “Do not touch me again, ever. I don’t know who sent you but no, the answer is no.”
“No?” I repeated. “Timber I think you just had too much to drink—”
He burst out laughing. “It’s not the alcohol. It’s you.”
“I make you drunk.”
“I was going to say violent,” he spat. “Stay away from me. This isn’t a game. You’ll only get hurt. Run along now.” He flicked his wrist.
“Okay, I think I’ll just grab some water for you and—”
In a flash he was bracing my body against the wall, holding me up like I weighed nothing, his teeth flashed, were those fangs? I blinked and then he looked normal again, his eyes blazed so blue they almost turned white and then he slowly lowered me to my feet. “Do. Not. Touch. Me.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t speak to me,” he added. “Don’t look at me. As far as I’m concerned, you do not exist. Are we clear?”
I nodded as tears filed my eyes. And then I stumbled back to the bar, my heart feeling bruised, my ego more so. What did I do wrong? And why did a stranger’s rejection make my heart clench?
“Bet you wish you would have taken that shot.” Tarek said with a smirk. “And don’t worry, he can’t help but be an ass, I’m convinced that it’s next to his name in the dictionary, you know, demon, evil, ass, ahhh Timber, there it is!”
I tried laughing past the knot in my throat, it was a pathetic attempt. “A little extreme to call him a demon but yeah… that was… weird.”
“Strap in,” Tarek said under his breath and then he was gone, leaving another shot poured ready for me.
I took it.
Coughed.
And wondered if I should bring Timber something to sober up, only to see him breeze passed me like he hadn’t just downed over two gallons of alcohol. “Tarek make sure she doesn’t burn the place down.”
I suppressed a growl.
Timber stopped at the door and very slowly looked over his shoulder and barked. “Wear more clothes tomorrow.”
I looked down at my jean shorts and crop top. “I thought—”
“Don’t think, do,” he snapped slamming the door behind him.
Tarek held the empty shot glass in front of my face. “One more before your double shift.”
“Like it will help.”
“Let’s just say I’ll make sure it does…” he said cryptically and oddly enough, I trusted he would.
And even weirder?
I made the most tips I’d ever made at any bartending job.
And I actually felt good for the next eight hours.
I forgot all about my parents moving to another country.
I forgot about the disappointment they tried to hide whenever they asked if I’d found a job I liked or a guy that didn’t completely turn me off. The answer was always no, I was always anxious, always moving, always searching.
Until now.
Until that night, even after the rejection, something about Soul felt right.
Like the world was a happier place than I originally thought.
Like I had a place in it.