Page 2

Chapter Two

February in Edmonton was no joke. As I stepped off the bus, the winter wind whipped through the streets, its icy claws tearing right through me, despite my heavy coat. My celestial heritage meant the cold would never kill me. But there were worse things than death and winter was one of them. I’d grown up in Hell, where the temperature constantly hovered around “broil.” Given the choice between that and Edmonton’s minus-forty windchills, I’d gladly take Hell’s scorching heat any day.

I trudged down the street, mindful of the ice, and headed toward Wraith & Whiskey. The bar had a reputation among the paranormal locals that extended far beyond its grimy, graffiti-covered exterior. Every night, it became a lively sanctuary for the supernatural. Magic woven into the foundation provided them a measure of security by ensuring humans couldn’t see or enter the building. To them, it simply didn’t exist. For the paranormals, though, it was the perfect spot to unwind and let down their hair without fear of exposure.

Unfortunately, the same rules didn’t apply to me.

I’d long since learned to guard my secrets, if only so I never gave anyone the chance to betray me again. It was a lesson hard learned. As such, my coworkers knew my name and that I wasn’t human, but that was it. To them, I was just Lily the Bartender. And I was okay with that. My anonymity kept me safe.

I stepped inside the bar, and the familiar cacophony of chatter, laughter, and the occasional growl greeted me. The dim lighting provided cover for those who wanted it, and the air was thick with the scent of alcohol and sweat.

“Evening,” I said, giving the bouncer—a grizzled werewolf named Hank—a nod as I took my place behind the bar.

His eyes, aglow with the power of his wolf, slid to me, and he silently nodded back. Hank was a man— wolf —of few words. He ensured no one caused any trouble—a job I sometimes assisted with—collected his pay and left.

I tied my apron around my waist and glanced up to see all the usual faces. Some greeted me with their own smiles, others raised their half-empty glasses, silently asking for another. I’d worked here for three years. I knew the drill and set to work. Three blood-infused bourbons for the vampires at table four, and two blood and cokes for the vampire couple at the back.

Next, I mixed a coral cocktail for the siren Eliza, who currently sat at table three. The vibrant blue drink contained a touch of sea salt and a swirl of kelp extract. Smelled like rotten fish to me, but she slammed it back every single time. Last on my list was a concoction for Nixie, a night hag who liked her drinks potent and dark. I prepared her usual—a shadowy mix of black rum, a hint of wormwood, and a splash of nightshade syrup. Nixie claimed it helped her stay “sharp,” but honestly, I never asked for details. I truly didn’t want to know.

I waved to Hunter, our resident trickster and waiter, and pointed at the tray of seven drinks awaiting his attention. He sauntered over, a mischievous gleam in his eye, and with the snap of his fingers, the drinks shimmered out of sight. A second later, they appeared in front of their respective customer, each one landing perfectly in place.

Hunter flashed me a saucy wink, an impish grin crossing his face. I couldn’t help but marvel at his abilities and his open use of them. As Lucifer’s daughter, I had some talents of my own—like the ability to conjure hellfire and control shadows. But I kept my powers a secret, for fear they’d reveal my identity. My gifts weren’t common, even among paranormals.

“Thanks, Hunter,” I said, wiping down the bar.

“Not a problem,” he replied. He hitched a hip against the counter and leaned closer. “If you’re ever interested in learning what else I can do, don’t hesitate to hit me up.”

I rolled my eyes. Hunter flirted with anything that breathed—and sometimes even that wasn’t a requirement. He didn’t have a type and wasn’t shy about who he invited into his bed. If someone turned him down, he simply moved on to the next in his long, long line of admirers. I couldn’t recall a single night when he’d left the bar unaccompanied. Normally, my complete lack of interest kept his advances at bay, but I guess pickings were slim tonight if he was turning his attention to me.

The night continued with its usual rhythm of drink orders and supernatural banter. Everyone was calm and happy, not a single hint of trouble in sight. Compared to my shift at the coffee shop, it was almost…boring. Not that I relished chaos, but I definitely had an appreciation for it, one I was sure I was born with.

I briefly wondered if something might happen when Veronica, the local vampire leader, stepped into the bar with her usual grace. Alas, she merely took a seat in the back with a few of her people and had a couple of drinks. All in all, the night was proving to be a bit of a snooze fest.

Around midnight, I took a break. I poured myself a whiskey and leaned against the counter, savoring my drink. The night was far from over, but business had already begun to die down, much to my dismay. Fewer patrons meant fewer tips, which meant less moola in my bank account. I’d done decently tonight, cleared about a hundred dollars, but I was the selfish sort who always wanted more. More meant I could run the air conditioning this summer when the temperatures spiked into the thirties.

I was mid-sip and lamenting my boredom when a loud crash erupted from the back of the bar. I lowered my glass and whirled around, only to find a fight had broken out between two half-shifted werewolves. One had the other by the throat and shook him like a rag doll.

Grinning, I downed my drink in one swallow, the burn fueling me, and stormed toward the chaos.

As I passed a table, I snagged a chair and marched over to the two werewolves, locked in a ferocious brawl as they shoved each other through broken glass and spilled drinks. I caught sight of Hank moving in my periphery, ready to do his job. But where was the fun in that? I loved a good bar brawl—it kept things interesting and gave me a chance to get my hands dirty without revealing who I was. Helping Hank break up fights was practically a hobby of mine. Besides, I enjoyed the rush of using my fists now and then.

Without any warning, I lifted the chair and slammed it down on top of the nearest werewolf’s head. He crumpled at my feet with a satisfying thud, now unconscious, and the second werewolf screeched to a stop, his wide eyes fixed on me. I perched my empty hands on my hips and stared the beast down, feeling the familiar thrill of chaos course through my veins.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” I taunted with a wicked grin. “Things were just getting entertaining.”

The werewolf hesitated, clearly torn between continuing the fight and backing down.

“Come on, now,” I urged. “Don’t punk out.”

He bared his teeth and growled, then lunged at me. My instincts took control, and I reacted, swinging a clenched fist right at his face. My knuckles connected with his contorted jaw and the impact sent him flying backwards through the air until he crashed into a table a good five feet away.

Oops. Maybe I’d hit him a bit too hard.

The werewolf slowly climbed to his feet and shook his head, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. He staggered left, then right, then finally plunked his ass down with a whine. Guess I’d smacked the sense back into him.

Hank’s massive form stepped between us, and he sighed. “Take it outside, Devin.”

The werewolf pushed to his feet, tail tucked between his legs, and shifted back into human form. With a quick, sheepish glance in my direction, he slipped out into the night. Luckily, Devin hadn’t lost his clothes during the shift. I’d seen that happen before—much to my enjoyment—but I highly doubted the humans beyond our doors would appreciate a naked man wandering the streets.

Shaking his head, Hank turned and glared at me. “Really, Lily? A chair?”

I shrugged, unrepentant. “It worked, didn’t it?”

Grumbling under his breath, Hank crouched and scooped up the other werewolf, carrying him to the staffroom until he woke up and could shift back. Until then, the werewolf couldn’t leave the building. As for me, I started cleaning up the mess, shunting bits of broken furniture aside until I could carry it out to the trash later.

“Damn, Lily,” a voice came from behind me.

I turned and laughed at the expression on Eliza’s face, her sea-green eyes sparkling with amusement. Her lithe form practically floated toward me, turning the heads of more than a few customers. As a siren, Eliza had that effect on people—effortlessly drawing them in with her ethereal beauty.

Her people, known for their enchanting voices and mesmerizing presences, were legendary for luring sailors to their doom with a single song. But Eliza had repurposed her talents for a more practical use in modern times. Now a member of the Mercenary Guild—a group dedicated to policing the paranormal and enforcing its rules—she used her talents to charm information out of tight-lipped informants and eliminate targets with chilling efficiency. Her gifts were just tools of the trade for her, ones she wielded with deadly precision.

“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” she commented. “Nice use of the chair, by the way.”

“Gotta make use of whatever’s on hand, right?”

She contemplated me with a serious air, while casually weaving her shimmering hair into a side braid. “You know, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen you kick a little ass. You have some serious skills.” She contemplated me a second longer before finally saying, “I’ve been looking for someone to help me with a job. And I think you might be perfect for it.”

A job? Eliza wasn’t the only merc who liked to drink here, but no one had ever asked me to help them out before. To them, I was just a bartender. Granted, this wasn’t the first bar fight I’d stopped, but a brawl wasn’t the same thing as a professional job.

“You want me to tag along on one of your hunts? I’m flattered.”

“Well, you do seem to have a certain…flair,” she said, chuckling. “This particularly troublesome vampire has been causing a lot of trouble—more than your average kind. There’s a hefty bounty on her head, one I wouldn’t mind splitting with the right person. I could use an extra pair of hands, especially ones as talented as yours.”

I snorted. She didn’t know the half of my talents. But I wasn’t yet sure I wanted to reveal that. “You do realize bartending and bounty hunting are slightly different skill sets, right?”

She smiled, her face transforming into something breathtakingly gorgeous. Phew, even I felt the pull. “I’m aware. But clearly you can handle yourself. And I saw that grin of yours when you dove into the fight. A little bored, are we? Maybe you need to introduce a little excitement into your life—werewolf wrestling notwithstanding.”

I chuckled at her assessment. It’d been years since I’d tasted real excitement—bar brawls notwithstanding. The last time was when I’d stolen two of my father’s hellwyrms and taken them out for a little joyride. That adventure had led to a full-on scuffle between me and a horde of hellspawn that had wanted so desperately to kill me.

Ah, good times.

But I held back, weighing my options. I’d spent a decade flying under the radar for a reason. If my identity got out, I’d have every riffraff within a hundred kilometers trying to make a name for themselves by challenging me. I loved a good fight or three, but not when it risked revealing my secret.

Still, her offer was tempting. So tempting.

Maybe I could take her up on it just this once? Helping her out didn’t mean I had to reveal who I was. I just needed to be careful, keep my powers to myself, and stick to using my blades. I could handle that. I’d been doing it my whole life.

I gathered up the rest of the broken furniture and set it aside before returning behind the bar, where a few customers sat, waiting for refills. Eliza followed.

“Alright,” I said, pouring some drinks. “You’ve piqued my interest. What’s the deal with this vampire?”

“The usual,” Eliza said as she hopped up onto the closest barstool. “She’s been feeding in the open and risking discovery.”

“Feeding in the open? Rookie mistake,” I said, shaking my head. “Does she have a death wish?”

Eliza snickered. “Apparently, she’s not the sharpest fang in the mouth. But her stupidity is our gain.”

I studied her and considered the offer. “And you’re sure you want to share the reward?”

“The bounty on her head is rather substantial. More than enough for us to split two ways and still live very comfortably. There’s this little black Versace dress I’ve had my eye on…” Eliza’s gaze went dreamy, and her lips turned up into a soft smile that had the customer next to her choking on his spit.

The extra money definitely appealed to me, considering my upcoming shopping trip and date. “Well, I do need a new dress. And some excitement wouldn’t hurt. But do you actually think I’ll be of use to you?”

“Oh yeah,” she said. “Just bring that right hook with you. One solid hit and that vampire won’t know what day it is.”

I burst out laughing. Eliza joined me, the melodious sound drawing more attention from the patrons still lingering in the bar.

I considered the money. It definitely interested me. A part of me, the part that loved shopping, pictured me striding into the restaurant on Friday night, wearing a ridiculously expensive dress, one that drew all eyes to me. But the realistic side of me was already thinking about savings and investment funds. This job could provide me the financial boost needed for some real freedom. I loved the idea of not having to worry about rent or bills, and still having money left over to indulge in a few luxuries. Maybe I could even cut back on my hours at the coffee shop. A little extra cash would go a long way in turning my current survival mode into something that resembled living.

An exiled celestial could dream, right?

Caving to the offer, I nodded and reached for two clean glasses. I poured whiskey into both, then handed her one. “Alright, you have a deal.”

Eliza grinned at me. “To new partnerships,” she said, raising her drink.

I clinked my glass against hers, and together we downed the liquid. I wiped my mouth and set the glass down on the counter with a satisfying clink. “So, what’s the plan?”

Eliza did the same, then tapped the rim. I poured her another, careful not to spill any.

“I know her location,” she said. “Tomorrow, we’ll go in, take her by surprise, and collect the bounty. Thankfully, her contract is dead or alive, so it really doesn’t matter how this job gets done.”

Oh, goody. It’d been a long time since I’d killed anything, and a familiar sense of adventure warmed my blood.

“I have some spare weapons I can loan you.”

I shook my head and poured myself another shot. Last one for the night. “I have my own, don’t worry about that.”

Eliza’s perfectly shaped eyebrows climbed her forehead. “You do?”

I snickered. “I’m a bit of a collector,” was all I offered.

“Well, alright then.” Eliza slid off the barstool, then drained her shot and lowered the glass. “See you tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at closing time. With luck, by next sunrise, our bank accounts will be flush with cash.”

Yup, I definitely got a thrill imagining that. “Sounds good.”

As Eliza walked away, I smiled. This was exactly the kind of thing I’d thrived on back in Hell, the kind of chaos I craved. I’d missed it dearly since my exile. Sure, there was a risk involved, but as long as I played it smart and kept my identity under wraps, I could handle it. Besides, a little danger never hurt anyone.

I returned to my duties behind the bar, my mind buzzing with anticipation. The night continued its usual rhythm, but there was an added spark in my step, a new energy that came from knowing something exciting hovered on the horizon.