I hopped off my bike and wheeled it around back to the bike rack the owner kept there. I was pretty sure I was the only one who ever used it. My bike would be safe despite the fact this area had a lot of petty crime—things like cars being broken into or thefts from front or back yards.
No one stole from the Blue Pepper. The locals all knew better. The owner had a habit of tracking down such foolhardy entrepreneurs and exacting a rather poetic justice on anyone stupid enough to dare her wrath.
The Blue Pepper was the same as always—a local watering hole, pure and simple. They didn’t serve food, only drinks, though the owner had an agreement with a local food truck that stopped by most nights.
You were as likely to find an expensive car or SUV sitting side by side with a junker that looked like it might fall apart at any moment.
For the most part, the two types of clientele got along, each leaving the other to drown their sorrows or celebrate with their friends in peace. Every once in a while, an asshole wandered in, then the true entertainment began.
If Dahlia didn’t send them packing, one of her more interesting customers did the deed for her. Because the Blue Pepper didn’t just cater to humans. Spooks were regular visitors, coming from all over the city to take advantage of a neutral place to drink and socialize.
Her clientele wasn’t just spooks capable of passing for human, either. Dahlia had some type of glamour on the place capable of masking a spook’s appearance, enabling them to pose as a human while within the bounds of her property.
It was a powerful draw for many in the shadow world. It made the Blue Pepper a good place to visit, if you were in need of gossip.
Dahlia wasn’t the only one to notice me; many of the people inside stared as I approached the bar. There was more than one unfriendly gaze in the crowd, though none knew me personally. More spooks with a bone to pick with a vampire, I noted with a sigh.
While I was within the Blue Pepper, I was safe. Getting home might be a bit tricky, but for now I didn’t have to worry about claws in the dark or magic being lobbed at me from the shadows.
They all knew better than to try something here. Not with Dahlia manning the bar. She took such things personally.
Still, a tall, thin man stood, his face wrinkling with hate as I neared.
“Dean, that’s enough.” There was a steely edge to Dahlia’s voice.
Dean hesitated, before taking a seat. His table companion leaned over and patted his shoulder, shooting me a glance over her shoulder.
The humans in the bar glanced around in curiosity, not understanding the sudden animosity floating in the air. They turned back to their drinks without any prompting.
Dahlia watched me approach from her spot behind the bar where she reigned with all the authority of a queen on her throne. She tilted her head to the side, indicating an empty seat at the end of the bar even as she took an order from the human in front of her, giving him a dazzling smile as she flitted back and forth.
He was charmed, handing her a twenty and waving off his change.
Even after knowing her for several years, I still couldn’t pinpoint Dahlia’s species. She was a tall, lithe woman, with a grace that had always eluded me. She had almond-shaped eyes and straight hair the color of the deepest of shadows that hinted at a middle eastern ancestry. Her skin was a golden tone that made her look sun-kissed even in the deepest parts of winter.
She had the sort of face that belonged on a cover of a magazine or a movie screen. It was the biggest indication she was something other than human. Dahlia possessed the sort of beauty that once might have caused a few wars as men fought to possess her.
She had an otherworldly, mysterious quality that easily ensnared your attention and didn’t release it until she looked away again.
She wasn’t a succubus—she lacked their raw punch of sexuality—but she shared similar attributes, most notably she could read your deepest desire.
Finished with her customer, Dahlia glided my way, stopping in front of me. She didn’t bother asking for my order, her hands already busy in a graceful dance as she prepared my drink.
Her motions paused as her gaze turned inward. She sent me a chiding glance before pouring the pale-yellow liquid into a martini glass.
She held her hand out, palm up.“You should have come as soon as it broke.”
I gave her a sheepish smile, reaching up to undo the chain before setting the necklace in her hand.“I got a little busy.”
She handed over the lemon drop martini before holding up the small pendant to examine.“This wouldn’t have stopped another attack in this state.”
I lifted the drink before putting it back on the bar top with a faint grimace. As much as I would love a taste of one of Dahlia’s drinks. It didn’t seem like a good idea to risk it, not afterI’d almost lost the contents of my stomach once this night.
“Can you fix it?” I asked.
She didn’t fail to note the drink sitting between us, but made no comment, her attention returning to the pendant.
“The magic that broke this would have been powerful. Most likely lethal,” she said.
