Page 15

A Shifter, a Vampire, and Goblin walk into a bar

T rice McBain.

At first glance, he was far more serious than that of his brother, Vern.

His dark brown eyes edged with a green ring, narrowed, at the same time his square jaw, shadowed with a few days’ stubble, hardened.

His darker auburn hair was worn similar to mine, for it was long but currently pulled back from his face in a messy bun.

And this wasn’t the only thing we had in common, as he too sported a scar on one side of his face.

But whereas mine was white and old, his was red and raw. As if it had been inflicted recently.

It started an inch from his hairline, cutting straight down through his left eye, finishing level with his nostrils.

I couldn’t help but wonder how he had gotten it, because I had a feeling it wasn’t as recent as it looked.

Its shape told me it was most likely from some Hellish means rather than that of a weapon.

A duel pronged line, for the top split into two.

A bident was a two-pronged implement similar to a pitchfork and was actually associated with the god Hades…

Like I said, my curiosity burned brighter.

As for the rest of the man, his long, dark grey cloak couldn’t hide the muscular bulk of his physique.

Nor could he hide the sway of his sword as it tented the material at his side.

Strips of leather crossed over his black leather doublet, holding in place the small arsenal of throwing weapons across his chest.

My assessment of the man continued as I spotted the same tartan as his brother was wearing.

One swathed around his waist over black pants, telling me it was obviously from the McBain clan.

The once vibrant red, whites, and greens had clearly darkened over their time in Hell, but their pride in their name remained strong, that much was clear.

As for Vern, as soon as he heard his brother utter my name, he whistled through his teeth, as clearly my name had made the rounds to this side of Hell.

However, before I could comment, the newcomer’s eyes went straight to Amelia’s.

The scar on his face twitching as it lifted from his grin, his emotions betraying him… he cared for her.

“Amelia,” he said in a far softer tone, making Lucius tense behind his chosen. I could feel the fury coming off him in waves as his hands instantly tightened on Amelia’s waist once more.

However, she simply looked up at her husband before turning in his arms and whispering something directly in his ear.

It was obviously the comfort he needed as he nodded once, before letting her go.

Although, it looked as if he would readily prefer to chew on broken glass before doing so… interesting.

Any other time and I would have been intrigued to know what had gone on between these three, but as it stood, time was not on our side.

So, I stepped back to allow Amelia space as she approached the shifter.

Then she hugged him, speaking his name as she greeted him with nothing but friendliness and warmth.

“Trice.”

At the sound of his name, his stern features softened further, and he hugged her back before his eyes taunted the Vampire over her shoulder.

I had to give it to him, he had fucking balls, that was for sure.

In fact, I was sure Lucius was about three seconds away from tearing his jugular out with his teeth.

“Not that I’m not happy tae see ye, but I hae tae ask whit ye daein' 'ere, lass?” he asked, talking slow enough so that she understood him.

“We need your help.”

He raised a brow in question.

“Ye in trouble?”

Amelia looked back at me before telling him, “My family is, yes.”

He looked to me then to Lucius. Someone who still looked like he wanted to tear the shifter’s head off and use it as a weapon to beat the rest of his body with.

“Then let’s go somewhere we kin talk… Mira, keys tae a room, please,” Trice shouted to the barmaid who stood behind the bar only twenty feet away.

She nodded just as her tentacles reacted, reaching out behind her and growing from beneath her hat.

They felt their way along the shelf with various bottles of liquor, until finding a black jar tucked behind them.

Once the jar was coiled within a tentacle’s grasp, it brought it to her, before tipping it over into her hand.

A key rolled from inside, straight into her palm before she then tossed it toward Trice, who caught it one handed.

He tipped his head in thanks before holding up his fingers, no doubt indicating to how many drinks of ale should be brought to us.

Or so I fucking hoped so, as this next conversation was most definitely going to need Hell’s version of alcohol.

Something that was a fuck load stronger in this realm than any mortal could make.

“Go fin' oor brother,” Trice said to Vern, gesturing to the staircase that must have led to rooms for rent. His brother made a salute with two fingers jerked level from his forehead, before leaving us. Vern’s lingering glance at Nero naturally spoke for itself.

“This wey,” Trice said to us, nodding toward a side room that must have been reserved for private discussions.

The curved wall was made from clouded glass bricks, with a carved frame that held a stable style door.

Once inside, we found a large round table with eight spindled chairs positioned around it.

Nets hung draped from the ceiling, with a chandelier made from a ship’s wheel that hung down over the table by thick chains.

You could see where the candle wax had overflowed and dripped from the spokes to the table at eight of the different points.

We all took our seats, and soon the same barmaid walked in with a tray holding seven tankards of what I assumed was some kind of mead or ale. A drink Amelia wrinkled her nose at, making Lucius smirk down at her.

Shortly after this, Vern had returned with who I gathered was the last McBain brother.

And what a character this giant of a man was.

In fact, he was similar in size to that of Ragnar, but whereas that big bastard Viking could cut a person down with just a look, this guy was the opposite.

He looked as if he would be booming with laughter as he slaughtered you.

As if nothing could wipe the beaming grin off his face.

Unlike his brothers, his hair was flaming red and reminded me very much of Ella’s, making it almost painful to look at.

It was shaved to his skull at the sides, with the top part braided and twisted down his back, its long length reaching his waist. But this matched the rest of him, whereas his brother’s had adopted a more subtle look, he had said fuck it and gone full on warrior.

His naked torso looked like a weapon of its own… this guy had muscle on top of muscle. A single shoulder piece of hammered steel, leather, and horn, was held by a crisscross of leather straps over his impressive chest. Gods, but this guy could have bench-pressed my fucking brother!

Interlocking symbols were tattooed over one arm, covering every inch, as if telling a secret story.

Like his brethren, he too wore the same tartan around his waist. Although the belt that held it in place was more of a statement, decorated by his spoils of war.

Fangs, talons, and horns stitched to the leather and worn like a badge of honor.

His pants were made from some scaled creature this realm had to offer, tapered down into a huge pair of boots that were strapped to his calves.

But as terrifying and imposing as his body was, his face told the opposite story.

Light green eyes crinkled at the corners and nearly disappeared completely as he grinned, thanks to his rosy, big cheeks.

Those laughter lines spoke of a being who found the joy in life, no matter the circumstance.

What seemed like a permanent grin was framed by a long red beard, one trimmed shorter around his lips but kept longer at his chin, tapering down into a single plait.

A grin that I will admit was infectious and what most would find endearing.

Something Amelia certainly did, as her whole face lit up at just the sight of him.

And she wasn’t the only one, as yet another red-headed warrior was happy to see her in return.

This told me that these three must have spent considerable time with her.

Especially when he enveloped her into a bear hug, nearly consuming her small frame entirely.

Amelia shouted his name, “Gryph!” Doing so with genuine joy in her voice.

“Aye, thare she is, oor bonny lassie!” he replied, his booming voice matching his stature.

But what was curious was Lucius’s reaction to this, as he certainly didn’t seem as tense because of it.

Not like he had been with the other two, although Trice was definitely the main focus of his growing irritation.

Again, I would have enquired as to why but right now, my priorities were firmly on the mission at hand.

After I was introduced to the behemoth, we took our seats.

Then once the door was closed, I wasted no time in explaining why we were all here.

First explaining what had brought us to this point.

Needless to say, this took some time, needing to continuously pause for long enough to answer their questions.

Up until what brought us to now, with Trice asking,

“Soo, ye wish fur oor help tae fight in this war I presume?”

“As helpful as that would be, we actually have a far more important job for you,” I said, nodding for Nero to continue.