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“Good girl.” He nods his head down the bar. “Come on, I’ll give you a basic rundown before we open, and you can just watch me tonight until you learn how to mix the drinks.”
“I know a lot of human ones already—had one foster father who was just better off plastered. I used to mix his drinks for him.”
“That’ll help. We do sell a lot of human drinks, and beer on tap isn’t complicated. Still, I want you right by my side at all times until people get used to seeing you here.”
I nod. “Not a problem. I’ve got no intention of wandering off on my own.”
Terrance, smart man thathe is, starts me at the club on a Monday. That gives me the week to get used to the place and to adjust to the really late nights before the weekend rush hits. Now, it’s Saturday night, and the place is a madhouse.
Wulf is right that a lot of underworlders drink human drinks. It turns out some are just as susceptible to the funky drinks as humans. For instance, sorcerers and sorceresses are basically humans who can use magic. Their systems can’t tolerate fey drinks any more than mine can. So there’s a lot that I can do besides polishing glasses, even with it being only my fifth day on the job. Wulf keeps me busy, too. Terrance wasn’t lying about him needing the help.
“Nora! Can I get a Blue Moon and a Guinness over here, pretty please?” Wulf calls from a few places down the bar.
“Pretty is right,” one of the men ordering a beer says, leering at me. “Is she human?”
“She’sTerrance’shuman.”
That’s Wulf’s go-to response when people ask about me. I hate how that makes me sound like some kind of pet, but it always makes the guys back off, so I let it go. I’ve even given that same response myself a few times. “You got it,” I reply with a smile to Wulf.
I pour the beers, and by the time I head over to the waiting gentlemen, Wulf has moved on to the next customer. “Guinness and a Blue Moon,” I say, sliding the glasses in front of the two guys. They both look human to me, but I know they aren’t. Not in this place. I’ve mostly gotten past being curious about people’s species—not enough time to dwell on it. But when I stop to talk to people, I always wonder.
“So, Terrance, huh?” the guy who called me pretty asks. “How does that work? A troll and a human?”
“Yeah,” the other says after sipping his beer. “There’s no way he can fit inside you. That musthurt.”
I roll my eyes. “We’re not lovers, ass wipe. We’re clan.”
Both men snort. “Terrance took you in as clan?” Idiot One asks while Idiot Two laughs and says, “Yeah, right. You wish, pet.”
“It’s true,” a silky voice interrupts.
Not that I care what these guys think, or feel the need to validate my claim, but I’m excited to see Cecile. She’s a succubus, and the only female friend I’ve got. Her voice is so smooth that both men shiver. When she leans against the counter next to them, they both gulp and their pupils dilate—she has them completely in her thrall. “Nora is the first of Terrance’s clan, and she’s a close, personal friend of mine. I do hope you’re both treating her with respect.”
“Of course,” Idiot One says.
“We were just having some fun.” Idiot Two looks at me. “Weren’t we? Who’s your friend, Nora?”
I shake my head. Cecile is too good at her job. These guys are both gone. I can’t resist having some fun with them. “This is Cecile. She’s really friendly, but she likes guys who know how to have a good time…together. Maybe you two should go dance together for a bit, and she might be tempted to join you.”
Both guys gulp down their beers and head out to the dance floor. My eyebrows hit the ceiling when they start grinding against one another. “Damn, Cecile, just what setting did you have the pheromones turned up to?”
Cecile laughs, the sound light and tinkling, and sucks in a deep breath as she watches the Idiot Twins on the dance floor. I’d been joking, but Cecile does have a preference for multiple partners at once. “Oh, sweet Nora, I do love having you here. You get all these men so hot I hardly have to do any work at all. As for those two, they deserve it for not believing you.”
“Yeah,” a new voice says. “Terrance should be in here with you, helping to spread the news. Not a damn one of the assholes in this place will believe just you.”
I grin at the newcomer. Nick Gorgeous works for the FUA—Federal Underworld Agency—and gorgeous he is, even though his look is completely unconventional. If you mashed up a biker bad boy and a well-mannered cowboy, you’d have Nick Gorgeous. And if that’s not enough of a picture, he’s got smooth, ebony skin, warm chocolate eyes, a screw-me smile, and a cute baby face. He’s quite the picture, but somehow it all works.
“Aw, but T-man’s so much better at playing grumpy bouncer than friendly bartender,” I say.
Snorting, Nick plops down on an open stool. Well, a stool that some other guy vacates after Nick gives him a look. (Nick is one scary badass when he wants to be.) “We meet again, little spitfire.” He shoots me a wink. “I heard the rumors, but I had to come see it for myself, and, sure enough, here you are, serving drinks to rowdy underworlders. I swear you’re the only human crazy enough to try it.”
I laugh. “Have you come to warn me away, then?”
“Hell no. I came to watch the show. It’s been a slow week for the FUA, and you’re bound to stir up all kinds of trouble here. I could use a drink, too. How about some Demon’s Brew?”
“Sure thing.” That’s one of the non-human beers on tap. The damn stuff smells so strong it practically knocks me on my ass just serving it. “How about you, Cecile? Can I get you anything?”
“Have you made a Sidhe Hurricane yet?”
