AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTER 1
"Magregor, if you think you're going to toss your cookies all over my clean counter, think again. Get to the bathroom now, or I'm going to kick your butt into the middle of the street and teach you the meaning of roadkill."
I wiped my hands on one of the crisp white rags that we used to clean the counters of the Wayfarer and carefully draped it over the railing behind the bar while keeping a close eye on the goblin. I didn't like goblins.
Not only were they conniving little sneaks, but they posed a potential threat for my sisters and me. The goblin bands were in league with our bitch-queen back in Otherworld who had effectively exiled us by means of a death threat. Until the civil war was over and she was vanquished, we either had to stay Earthside, or head for cities other than Y'Elestrial if we decided to go home to OW. One loose tongue—and goblins were squealers—and Queen Lethesanar might find out where we were.
The elves had helped us rig the portal leading from the basement of the Wayfarer so it pointed into the shadowed forests of Darkynwyrd, but that only eliminated the immediate threat of the Queen's guards coming through. Now we had to cope with all sorts of skulking creatures wandering into the portal. But we didn't dare close the portal permanently. We needed quick access to Otherworld.
I wouldn't have minded the occasional goon poking his head through my doorway, but the elfin guards watching on the other side were lazy. This week alone I'd been in four fistfights with miscreant Fae, taken out three kobolds, put the kibosh on a touchy feely gnome, and barely corralled a butt-ugly baby troll who'd somehow managed to sneak through.
"Try an' make me leave, dolly… I'll show you jus' what women are good for." The goblin thrust his pelvis toward me with a lewd grin and grabbed his crotch. He was plastered all right. He had to be sloshed, or he would have slunk out of there, shaking in his boots. By the look on his face, I figured that I had about five minutes before his supper paid him a return visit.
"No, let me show you what women are good for," I said softly as I leapt over the bar. His eyes went wide as I landed silently beside him. I could smell his pulse, and the beat of his heart echoed in the back of my mind. Even though you couldn't pay me to touch goblin blood unless I was starving, my fangs extended and I gave him a slow smile.
"Holy shit." He tried to scramble away but only succeeded in wedging himself between his stool and the next one. I yanked him up by the scruff of his collar and strode over to the stairs leading into the basement, dragging him behind me. He struggled, but there was no way he could squirm out of my grasp.
"Chrysandra, keep watch on the bar for a minute."
"Sure thing, boss." Chrysandra was my best waitress. She'd been a bouncer over at Jonny Dingo's for awhile, but got tired of being harassed by sleazeballs for minimum wage. I paid her more and my patrons knew better than to harass the help. Or at least most of them did, I thought, looking down at the goblin as I hauled him toward the basement and tossed him over my shoulder in order to carry him down the steps. The goblin squealed, kicking the hell out of my stomach.
"Can it, dork. You can ram your size fours into my mid-section from now until doomsday without making a dent," I said, then hissed at him.
He blanched. "Oh, shit."
"Yeah, that about sums it up," I said. Being a vampire had its perks.
As I entered the basement, Tavah looked up from her post near the portal, which shimmered like a nebula between two large standing stones. She glanced at the goblin, then at me. "I didn't think he was supposed to be here…" She let her words drift off as I tossed Mr. Unlucky on the floor.
"No way can we allow him to go back through the portal. I suggest you take an early lunch," I said.
Tavah blinked, then broke into a toothy grin. She wasn't as picky about her meals as I was. "Thanks, boss," she said as I turned to go back upstairs.
The goblin let out a startled cry behind me, cut off in midshriek. I stopped for the briefest of moments. The basement was silent except for the faint sound of Tavah, lapping gently. I quietly shut the door and returned to the bar. There was no sense in taking a chance the goblin might run back to Otherworld or Y'Elestrial and spread tales. Neither the Queen nor the tattered remnants of the OIA knew we were still here. And we wanted to keep it that way.
The Wayfarer was rocking. When I'd first been assigned to work the bar, I resigned myself to serving a bunch of drunken sots and sad-assed streetwalkers. But to my relief and surprise, most of the Fae who came to the Wayfarer drank enough to have fun, but not enough to cause problems. The full-blooded humans who came in were pretty good sorts, too. They spent good money to fritter away the evening in the presence of various Fae and Earthside Supes. All except for the Faerie Maids, that is, and they only irritated me because they were cheap. Cheap as in, buy one drink and nurse it half the night while taking up valuable booth space. They were there for one reason and one reason only: to be taken advantage of by some pussy-hungry denizen of Otherworld.
To be honest, I felt more pity for them than irritation. It wasn't their fault they were vulnerable to Sidhe pheromones. And if anybody should have exercised restraint, it was my father's people. We all knew what could happen when sex worked its way into the mix, but a number of humans didn't understand. Over the months, however, I'd learned to keep my mouth shut. On the rare occasions when I tried to dissuade a love-struck Faerie Maid from her quest, I'd been met by disbelief. And a few times, by outright anger.
With the goblin taken care of, I returned to the counter just in time to see Camille and Trillian wander through the door. My oldest sister, Camille, was gorgeous, with long raven hair and violet eyes. She was curvy and buxom, and dressed a la designer BDSM, decked out in a leather bustier and flowing chiffon skirt. Trillian looked like an escapee from the Matrix with his black suede duster, black jeans, and black turtleneck. A Svartan—one of the darker-natured cousins to the elves—his clothing and skin blended together in one long jet silhouette while his silver hair hung free to his waist. Wavy and coiling, it had taken on a life of its own, that hair. As a couple, they sure turned heads.
I waited until they chose a booth and then wiped my hands on the bar rag and tossed it to Chrysandra. "I'm taking a break," I said, heading over to join them, carrying a goblet of Blossom wine for Camille and a Scotch on the rocks for Trillian. I could do without the Svartan, but I needed to talk to Camille. She glanced up as I slid in beside her and gave her a quick squeeze.
Trillian flashed me a brief smile. As usual, I ignored him. "What did you find out?" I asked her.
She leaned back, shaking her head. "They've disappeared. Trillian looked all over but couldn't find any sign of either Father or Aunt Rythwar. There houses were deserted, everything gone."
"Shit." I stared at my nails. They were perfect, and they always would be. "Anybody have any idea where they went?"
Trillian spoke up then. "No. I checked with all my usual sources without any luck. Then I managed to scare up a few who weren't happy to see me—they owe me big and were hoping to stay hidden a little big longer. But nobody seems to have any idea where your father and aunt went."
"You don't think that Lethesanar found them and killed them, do you?" Camille asked.
I grimaced. "Ugh, that's not the question I really want to hear." But even as I said it, I knew she was right to ask.
"No. Their soul statues are still intact. I checked your family's ancestral shrine. For another, you know that she wouldn't be able to resist parading them around the court and we'd hear about it for sure. Lethesanar loves to flaunt her victories over her enemies. She'd schedule public executions with full fanfare. No, I think your father and aunt just found a damned good place to hide and are waiting it out."
Trillian leaned back, draping his arm around Camille in an easy way. Someday I'd have to come to terms with the fact that they were back together and likely to stay that way. Svartans by their very nature are trouble, and I didn't like that my sister was hooked up with one. I might not be happy about it, but there wasn't much I could do. And he was helping us, I had to give him that much credit.
