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I SAT AT THEbar, hands cupped around my third pint, ignoring the subtle movements of what I suspected were alcoholics sitting at the bar with me. Who else would be drinking at this time in the morning?
Lately, I’d been seeking my watering hole more often than I cared to admit. With asshole Off-Kilter residing in the Talde house and my best friend screwing a vampire, alcohol was my distraction.
The Fog Pub was a hike from Keir’s, but only a couple blocks down the road from Danni’s gallery. Delara used to come here with me all the time, but that was before the witch bitch Trinity and Waleron fucked and sent her on a mission of self-destruction. She disappeared for two years after that then came back to help out Balen by fucking the Wraith Edan.
“Hey, you mind if I sit here?”
I shrugged, not even glancing at the chick who came up beside me. I took a swig of beer, and continued watching the big screen TV up in the corner of the bar. The barstool scraped on the floor as the chick pulled it out, sat, and asked the bartender for a straight-up coffee with a shot of milk.
My usual charming self was on hiatus after hearing Delara’s latest, so I didn’t bother saying anything to the chick, even though from the corner of my eye I saw she had damn nice legs.
Friggin’ Delara with this screwed up path she was on. Using a vampire was going to come to a head, and I wouldn’t be able to save her from it.
“Cool, thanks,” the girl said to the bartender as he slid a steaming mug of coffee her way. “And better get him another.”
I tensed, shifting on my stool to look at her. I didn’t need some chick… my brows lifted and eyes widened.
She bit her lower lip and smiled. “Do I look that bad this morning?” She laughed and it was like a strum of an acoustic guitar. “Well, I believe that’s the first time a guy has looked at me like I was a bug splattered on his windshield.” She ran her hand over her chic short red stands of hair. “It’s not that bad, is it? I just had it done, and I thought the girl did a good job. Kind of a feisty, fashionable look.”
She was hot. A sexy, cute hot, with green eyes sparkling with mischief and laughter.
Where was my mouth? Obviously, still on the friggin’ floor.
I snapped my jaw shut and cleared my throat. “It’s nice.” It’s nice? I can’t believe that just came out of my mouth to a hot chick who obviously was trying to get my attention. Well, she had it, probably had the attention of every guy in this place.
“Little early for beer. Alcoholic?” she asked.
It would appear like that. Just moments ago, I’d made the same assumption about the other patrons. “Nope.”
“Rough night then? Is it a woman or man?” She laughed again when I snorted. “Sorry. Hard to know. I mean, you’re gorgeous, obviously in good shape, and dress nice, and it seems like all the attractive men I’m interested in aren’t interested in me.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not.” Wow, I managed a whole sentence. Then I realized what I said and quickly rectified. “I mean, I like chicks.”
She laughed and held out her hand, and I noticed she didn’t wear nail polish, but her fingers were long and slim, well kept, nails manicured. “Good to know. I’m Abigail—don’t call me that though. I prefer Abby.”
The instant I touched her hand, I felt the familiar electricity shoot through my body and it wasn’t a sexual thing. No, this was a get-the-fuck-out-now warning.
I jerked back, grabbed my coat from the back of the chair, threw a twenty on the bar, and headed for the door.
No way was her sitting down beside me an accident.
I slammed my palm into the door and walked out onto the sidewalk, kicking the bicycle post with the toe of my combat boot. “Shit.” I should’ve known what she was the second she sat down.
I heard the door open as I put my arm out to hail a cab. I smelled her vanilla perfume as she came up behind me.
Without turning, I said, “Not a fan of witches, so best keep your spell fingers to yourself.”
“I need your help,” she said.
“Yeah, well, my help meter is at full capacity right now. Take a number.” Frig, where were the cabs when you needed one?
“It’s Liam.” Whoa. What? Liam? Shit, this must be the witch rumored to be hanging at Liam’s club. I turned toward her as she said, “The vampire.”
“Yeah, I know who the fuck he is,” I said.
A yellow cab slowed.
“Liam told me to meet him at the club in five nights.”
