The Phantom’s Menace bar was quiet and calm, just how I liked it. A cold lemonade sat in front of me, pretending to be a strong alcoholic beverage as I waited for my contact to arrive. Dark colors filled the place, old wooden furniture turned a deep brown, stained from a thousand spilled drinks. Rather upbeat rock music played on the stereo, but if you paid attention to the lyrics, you got a completely different feeling. The chorus rang out a third time; “Baby, you’re on my mind. It's true, I’m here for you. I’ll never fade, never leave your side. Never decay, I’ll stay with you till the end. Bring you back, just to start all over again.”
Sure, it sounded like a decent song, if you thought of it as a romantic piece. But when you thought about it in another light, what was a beautiful romance piece turned into a tale of a stalker, bent on turning their prey into their toy, endlessly tormenting them until their death, and even then, they’d bring you back, and start over again. A piece that did justice to the Vampires. They could be loyal, eternal companion, or vengeful, unrelenting adversaries.
The song reminded me of myself, in a way. I, too, had someone on my mind, rather, some!ones!. My hand reached for my pocket, checking for the millionth time that my wallet remained. Inside sat three pictures, faces fading from my memory shortly after each look. I’d check them later, to see if I’d seen them somewhere recently, but it was a vain hope.
I took a swig of the drink, savoring its perfectly balanced flavor. Not too much sugar, not too much lemon, and not a drop of ice. The perfect drink for a slowly-rotting corpse to enjoy. I’d had to give up alcohol when I Turned, since the stuff would wreak havoc on my kidneys. And I wasn’t keen on cutting my chest open to replace them if they went bad. Nor would I trust any hands OTHER than mine to do the job.
A chill went up my spine as the atmosphere turned electric. I heard the door open, and I knew she was here. My hand went to my waist, fingers brushing against the reassuring metal that was holstered at my side. Not that the Redhawk chambered in .454 casull rounds would do much good against the woman. She was early, I hadn’t expected her to show up until after my chat with James. Well, I’d better get this over with.
I turned on the bar stool, a lazy grin on my face. Had to keep up the carefree facade, because the woman was a predator, honing in on any weakness. At the door stood Angelina, the woman of my dreams. And if I was being honest, my nightmares.
She was fairly short, but well built, if lacking in the chest department. Her hair reached to the center of her back in a glorious mass of shining gold. Her eyes were a brilliant blue that were so stunning, you could lose yourself in them. What ended up turning away most men were the pair of owl wings at her back, folded neatly in a mass of white and brown feathers. While I wasn’t a fan of demi-human experimentation, they looked as soft as silk, and combined with her youthful face, she looked extremely huggable. She was like porcelain, until you got to know her. She was a devil in disguise, and despite her beauty, I wanted nothing to do with her. Too bad my fate was in her hands.
She slowly strode to my side, face a cold, indifferent mask. She spoke in her careful, slow manner, face almost completely emotionless, only the most minute twists of her lips letting me know she was pleased to see me. Not a good sign. “Hello, Logan. What is that curious apparatus upon your head?”
I put a hand up to my fashion statement, a pompous-looking admiral’s hat complete with plum. I tipped the hat towards the lady, smile growing wider. “I hear these are all the rage these days.” A complete lie. It was a joke between me and the man I was waiting for, but who knows, maybe I could trick her into wearing one of the giant hats for herself. Her face stayed the same, no indication of whether she had bought it.
“Well, I am glad to see you are well. I trust you have taken the appropriate measures, as requested in our previous meeting?” Her words made me groan, and I turned to glare at the wooden bar, swirling my drink, fuming over the ridiculous demands the Inquisition were foisting on me. I nodded slowly, before proffering my arm, letting her lift the sleeve to reveal the tail end of a scarab-like parasite that had burrowed beneath my skin. She flicked the critters tail, causing it to slowly, and quite painfully, despite my general tolerance, wiggle its way free of my arm. She picked up the bug, crushing it between her fingers, before giving the resulting pulp a sniff. She gave me a careful look, before slowly nodding.
“You are clean. This is good. Take care that you remain as such. I would not like to see a wonderful specimen such as yourself to be put to the torch.” Her words were cold, but the hand that placed itself on my cheek was warm. I flinched away from the contact, which turned her small smile into an even smaller frown. It wasn’t a good idea to anger the woman, but dammit, I wasn’t just a piece of meat! Why couldn’t I find myself a woman who wanted me for something other than my body.
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The thought made me chuckle, which only seemed to confuse the woman, her eyebrows scrunching slightly. I was far too familiar with her facial expressions, my gaze always drawn to her angelic face. It was truly a terrible tragedy that such a beauty was seemingly within reach, yet was so far away.
To my surprise, she sat down at the counter beside me. She hailed the bartender with a wave, the man coming immediately, a wide grin on his face. “Good sir, I hope it would not be too much trouble, but could I get a raspberry lemonade with a shot of vodka?”
I fumed at the order. My favorite drink! Okay, I MAY have been drinking lemonade because I liked it, not just because alcohol would ruin my kidneys, but I wasn’t some teetotaler! I liked a shot of strong stuff with the delicious drink. But now I couldn’t have my favorite drinks, sticking to plain lemonade. And now… Now this damnable woman was flaunting my favorite drink in front of me!
The bartender rushed through the order, probably breaking a few records while he was at it. He brought the glass to Angelina, giving her a knowing wink and a long stare, one Angelina ignored. Well, at least the man had good taste. Because damn, did Angelina look delicious. It was VERY hard to concentrate around her, though bitching at her every action helped things.
Angelina took the drink, taking a small sip, before coughing violently. I grinned as she struggled to regain her composure. I slapped her back, which was just an excuse to rub my arm against her wings. And holy crap, but were they as soft as they looked. I tried to be stealthy about the motions, but after Angelina finished the drink, she glared at me. I could tell, because her cheeks were slightly puffed out.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, was it too strong? I can make you another.” The bartender interrupted before I could gloat, ruining a perfect opportunity. “Yes, it was too strong. I’ll just take the bottle, straight, if you don’t mind.” The bartender and I just blinked, not understanding. The lemonade was in a machine, and not a bottle. The bartender vocalized the confusion, asking if she meant a pitcher of lemonade. The woman, ever the oddity, shook her head, “No, the vodka. The lemonade portion was a bit strong, so I’d like just the bottle, if you please.” My eyes bulged, staring with incredulity at the woman.
The bartender, quick on his feet, nodded, before quickly grabbing the bottle from the shelf, and putting it before Angelina. An impatient call pulled him from our section of the counter, leaving just me to watch as the woman started downing the alcohol in giant swallows. I swear I felt a burn in my own throat at the mere thought of drinking that much alcohol. Was the woman crazy?!
Within half a minute, the entire bottle was gone. She stood, leaving a hundred on the counter, before slowly sauntering out of the bar. She didn’t say a word, just walking away, like she usually did. Not one for conversation, that woman. And though I didn’t want to, I knew that I was falling for her. The worst part was that it was just pure looks that was the cause. I knew her fairly well, but she was nowhere NEAR my ideal type, other than her body. The thought was somewhat repulsive to me, seeing as I hated the guys who slept with women just for their looks, not caring to get to know them. It was one of the reasons I tried so hard to keep from flirting with the woman. I knew that if I did, not only would I make an ass of myself, but if by some miracle I succeeded, the relationship would be purely physical, and would end in a matter of weeks. Most definitely not was I was looking for.
Frustrated by problems of my own creation, and with my lower parts half hard, I turned back to my drink, taking a long swallow, before turning to the leftovers of Angelina’s drink. My fingers twitched, slowly reaching for the cup. Just one drink wouldn’t hurt, right? I almost had my hands on the miracle elixir, before the cup vanished in a blur, Angelina returning just in time. She gave me a look that I couldn’t decipher, before she downed the drink, and left for real this time.
I stared at the empty mug, my mind a raging storm of anger, frustration, and lust, but the worst emotion was the mild annoyance. It was the worst, because the annoyance was with myself, and how I had almost broken my own rule. No alcohol for this zombie, no sir.
A pat on my shoulder interrupted what could have become a melancholic mood, filled with my reviewing my angst-filled past, and wallowing in wretched exposition. I turned, smile on my face as I gazed upon an old friend. And when I saw the man behind him, my smile turned brittle. I turned back to the bartender, and ordered a glass of raspberry lemonade, with three shots of vodka. Today was going to be a LONG day.