Leon

I should head home when the bar closed. I had more than ample time before the sun rose. And yet, I sat, ever the voyeur. True to his word, Lucroy and Peaches came into the bar tonight. Sedrick and Phil stopped by for a short time also. What they did not do was have more than a cursory, polite interaction with Frost. Lucroy explained that upon further consideration, he did not believe it wise. The idea was to make Frost appear an easy target and part of that plan was weaving a tale involving few interpersonal relationships. The fewer individuals there were to miss Frost, the less likely the fuss when he disappeared.

Lucroy instructed Johnny not to act too fondly toward our newest pixie addition. If anything, Lucroy said we should act dismissive, if not outright hostile toward Frost. Nothing too obvious, just enough that if anyone were watching, they’d get the impression we cared precious little regarding Frost’s comings and goings.

If only that were true.

I glanced at the clock, not that I needed an outward sign of time to reference the sun’s cycles. Over three hundred years hadn’t quelled that particular habit. Regardless, I still had time. I could stand up, walk out the door, drive home, and be comfortably in bed long before the first rays crested the horizon.

I didn’t move.

I wasn’t the only one sticking around. The bar was busy, although this time of the early morning, several species began filtering out. Most of my nestmates would stay another twenty, maybe thirty minutes before they left too. The younger vampires were often the first to leave. The sun was their boogeyman, and they were often a twitchy bunch when it came to safety. I remembered those days well and was glad I’d mentally moved past that overwhelming fear.

My gaze ticked to my left. I’d kept a weather eye on the group of three werewolves passively lounging at a table on the outer fringe of the dance floor. Although not as gluttonous as dwarves, werewolves were known to enjoy their cups. Sedrick guzzled beer as if the fount would never run dry. They had high tolerances for alcohol and generally liked enjoying themselves. These wolves barely drank one beer apiece the entire evening.

Admittedly, Dusk’s werewolf population was more anemic than most bars. Arie Belview was the alpha of the local pack and for some unfathomable reason, he didn’t like mingling with vampires. Especially, Lucroy’s nest.

Keeping my internal grin just that, I silently chuckled at Arie Belview’s discomfort. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

So, the question was why were Arie’s wolves coming into the bar now? It wasn’t always the same group. There was never just one. They came in pairs, trios, or occasionally four-packs. They were exceedingly polite for werewolves, let alone Arie Belview’s wolves. Much to Pete and Bax’s dismay, the wolves never gave our troll bouncers cause to intervene.

“That group doesn’t do my sense of calm a bit of damn good,” Johnny lamented as he sat next to me. “I don’t like it, boss-man. They’re up to something.” Johnny kept his voice low, and the blaring music helped cover his words, keeping them from sensitive werewolf ears.

“Hmm, an accurate assessment, Johnny,” I easily agreed. Maybe that was why I didn’t want to go home, why I stayed at the bar and would most likely spend another day nestled within the safety of Lucroy’s underground dwelling.

Johnny huffed. “I hate this waiting game shit. You know, I thought we were done with all that when that jackass, Arthur Stover died. Now that Aurelia’s asleep again, I’d hoped we might get a longer reprieve.” Johnny ended with a discouraged sigh.

Stagnancy was a vampire’s Achilles’ heel. It was a gentle pull, a lie that lulled one into dull complacency and before a vampire knew it, they were little more than a shell of their former self. Life lost all meaning and there was absolutely no reason to continue. Peace and quiet were the death nail of most vamps. Perhaps that is why, traditionally, we were such a brutal race. Maybe we’d been forced into that role, if only to perpetuate our second lives.

But there were different levels of peace and quiet, and I found, like Johnny, that a longer run of peace would not have been detrimental.

With the djinn on his mind, Johnny twisted a nearby napkin and said, “You know, we could ask Peaches to wake her up. He could just wish for Aurelia to find who’s in charge of this pixie trafficking ring. The whole thing would be done and over with like that.” Johnny snapped his fingers.

While Johnny’s idea held a lot of appeal, it was a dangerous road. More dangerous than our current path.

“Djinn are not a species to so callously use.”

“It’s not callous. It’s about saving lives,” Johnny rightfully argued.

“You are correct. I chose my wording poorly. What I meant is that while your thoughts have merit and sound reasonable, one cannot count on a djinn to conform to those thoughts, even a djinn as mentally stable as Aurelia appears to be. It would be a dangerous ploy and one I would not invoke unless the situation were truly dire.”

As much as I hated the idea of Frost playing bait, I feared the idea of waking Aurelia more. The djinn had seemed to be on our side last time, but there was no guarantee she’d feel the same now. While the one controlling her object of attachment held Aurelia’s leash, that tether was, at best, precarious, and at worst, little more than a wispy cloud.

The best the world could hope for was that djinn faded from memory. That they became little more than a fairy tale—something precious few believed truly existed. The more we used Aurelia’s abilities, the less likely that was to happen.

Elbows planted on the table, Johnny set his chin in his cupped hands. “You’re right. I hate that you’re right, but that doesn’t make it less true.”

Little yips met my ears and Johnny turned just in time to welcome Trinket onto the table. The scuttlebutt scurried up his arm and settled into the crook on Johnny’s neck. Uproariously laughing, Johnny patted Trinket on the head.

“Hey, that tickles.”

Trinket heard the words and saw them as an invitation to wiggle more. Johnny laughed even harder.

“Sorry about that, Johnny.” With a half-full bin of dirty glasses on his hip, Wendall blew a section of bangs off his forehead. “It’s been a couple of days since we’ve been in, and Trinket’s missed everyone so much. She just can’t help herself.” Wendall’s words were full of affection.

“It’s okay. I missed our little lady too.” Knuckles roughly rubbing against her skin, Trinket leaned into the deep massage and let loose a round of gurgles that sounded somewhere between pain and pleasure.

“Hey, Leon,” Wendall greeted as he reached over and grabbed my empty glass of blood. It had taken me an embarrassing long time to force the liquid down my throat tonight. “Busy night?” he asked while clearing the table.

“Typical,” I easily responded. When I caught Wendall’s gaze, I was momentarily mesmerized by the blue waves rolling within. Aurelia’s intervention not only saved Wendall’s life but boosted his fairy DNA. None of us were sure what that fully meant.

Scanning the bar, I didn’t see Wendall’s other half and asked, “Is Ray here?”

Wendall shook his head. “He had to see Aunt Silvidia.”

Wendall’s casual mention of his aunt, otherwise known as the Fairy queen, was a constant source of amusement.

“Is everything all right in Fairy?” I asked.

“As far as I know. I think he mostly went to fill her in on the latest plan.” Wendall leaned over and whispered the last part. “She’s pretty concerned.” He frowned, holding out his arm. Trinket easily jumped from Johnny to Wendall, racing up his arm, nesting on his shoulder, her long, prehensile tail safely wrapped around his bicep. “To be honest, I’m not sure if she’s more concerned about the pixies or the fact that someone’s so blatantly ignoring fairy law. That’s not exactly fair. Aunt Silvidia’s really worried about the pixies, it’s just…you know, she’s not really used to being so…” Wendall waved a hand in the air, struggling to come up with the right word.

I understood. Attempting to quantify Queen Silvidia’s thoughts was not a prospect I envied.

“Anyway, she’s not happy,” Wendall finally finished.

Johnny grumbled. “An unhappy fairy queen is a risky affair.”

Wendall nodded. “Yeah.” Shifting his bin of glassware, Wendall perked up. “Ray should be here soon. He said he’ll come directly to Dusk when he’s done.” Wendall’s cheeks flushed, and his voice filled with delight. Outward signs indicated that relationship was going well.

“I’m glad I was able to come in tonight. I got to see Frost again. He’s doing a great job.” Wendall beamed. “I know I’m not supposed to let others see that I like him, but I don’t think it’s a problem to show him when we’re alone.”

If I didn’t know Wendall Galen was already well and truly spoken for, I might have lost control of my transformation. Logically, I understood Wendall’s phrasing was innocent. Logic was a difficult mistress to obey when instinct took over.

“He’s doing great,” Johnny agreed happily. “He’s quick on the uptake.” Johnny tapped a finger to his temple. “I’ve only gotta show him something once and he’s off and running. Truth be told, I’d like to have about three of him come the weekend.”

“If it’ll help, I can work this weekend.”

“Indeed, that would be fine,” Ray agreed, casually walking to our table and instantly wrapping an arm around Wendall’s waist. Without a word, Ray took Wendall’s bin, easing it out of Wendall’s arms and carrying the burden. Wendall didn’t protest. It was a common occurrence.

“Good meeting?” Wendall inquired, eyes wide and nearly begging Ray not to disagree.

Conflict raged within Ray’s crimson ringed eyes. “It was…expected,” Ray finally settled on. “Queen Silvidia sees the merit in our current strategy and will not interfere. My queen assured that her services and assistance are available when needed. Queen Silvidia did request she be given the honor of dispatching those involved personally.”

I considered Ray’s answer and said, “I would expect nothing less.”

“Nor I,” Ray easily agreed.

Johnny grimaced. “Well, I have to say, I don’t necessarily want to be around when this all goes down. Hearing about it secondhand will be good enough for me.” Fauns weren’t known for their bloodthirsty ways.

“Looks like our were friends have had enough for the evening,” Johnny said, gaze fixed on Dusk’s exit.

“Friends?” Wendall questioned and then nodded when he figured out Johnny was being sarcastic.

“They are coming in more frequently,” Ray added.

“Nearly every night now,” I agreed.

Ray’s eyes narrowed. Typically, beyond the law, fairies didn’t care much about the comings and goings of other species. Hellfire Rayburn was different.

“Yo, Johnny, you gonna sit on your ass all evening or are you gonna help me?” Lizbeth shouted from a nearby table. “The bar’s backing up. Frost’s doing a good job, but he’s not as quick as you and me.”

Slapping his hands on the table, Johnny stood. “Duty calls. You spending the day here again, boss-man?”

I nodded without thought. I’d definitely spend the day here. Something inside wouldn’t allow me to go elsewhere. Logically, that didn’t make sense. I was utterly useless during the day. My body was inert, and my mind would not wake.

My gaze found Frost. The pixie was behind the bar, scurrying back and forth. Pixie dust surrounded him like a heavenly haze. He grinned, winked, and fluttered about like he hadn’t a care in the world. Frost was focused on his work.

As if he could sense me watching, Frost’s head lifted, our gazes meeting across the still busy bar.

No. I wouldn’t leave the bar. I’d stay, locked in my safe little dungeon, as close to the living as I could be without risking the sun’s wrath.