The man barely glanced back and forth, in a cold once-over of the room, before he headed to his destination. The bar. Or, more aptly, the bar stool directly in front of where I stood. He sat with a small flourish of whipping his silver fur coat out behind him, so he didn’t sit on it, and pushed the hood of his cloak back, revealing his chaotic hairstyle of silver hair. The hilts of two impressive swords crossed over his back could be seen on either side of his head. His light blue t-shirt underneath stretched across his toned chest as he ran his fingers through his hair, his gunmetal silver eyes lifting to stare directly into mine.
I cleared my throat and peered back down to the glass I was fervently cleaning. “You need shoes on to be served in here, Cassander.” I managed to keep my voice from shaking—this man was intimidating on a whole different level.
And what was it with this group? I’d been working here almost a month. I hadn’t seen any of them once, and yet, here they were popping up like nightmares left and right. I sincerely hoped they weren’t planning on making this their new drinking establishment.
Cassander pushed on the bar, and the barstool twirled in a circle, taking him on a merry little spin, his coat flying out behind him. When it stopped, righted back in my direction, he asked with clear amusement, “Are you going to kick me out?”
I snorted and placed the glass down below the bar. I wouldn’t try fighting this man if my life depended on it. I’d run as fast as I could in the opposite direction and pray he wasn’t playing cat and mouse with me. I hooked a thumb over my shoulder at the shelves behind me, asking, “What’ll it be?”
“Hmm.” His quicksilver eyes studied the selection. “Two shots of bourbon and a draft beer. I don’t care what kind.”
I ground my teeth together as I got to work. His order meant he’d be staying a while to drink into the night. Those were beginner drinks intended to keep the body warm, not giving an instant buzz. With extreme care, I set his drinks in front of him, asking, “Are you starting a tab?”
He nodded. Downed one shot.
I grabbed the translucent mini-pad and handed it over to him, waiting patiently as he pressed it to his silver bracelet and confirmed an open tab with the bar. My ears perked when he stated a fifty percent tip to be added at the end of the night.
Well, all right. I guess he could stay and party the night away.
He handed the mini-pad back over to me, watching as I placed it back in its charging holster under the shelves. “So it looks like you got a job like I told you to.”
I rolled my eyes and leaned back against the shelves, and draped the white rag over my shoulder. “Yes, it was good advice. Do you want a thank you for it?”
“No. That’s not needed.” He smiled…but it didn’t reach his eyes. He downed the other shot and pointed at the two empty glasses, indicating he wanted more. “Meet anyone interesting yet?”
My brows puckered as I truly evaluated his appearance, running my gaze over his features.
Cassander looked…tired. Like,bone weary tired.
As if he had looked death in the eye and didn’t like what he saw. There was no sign of the lively and spirited man I had met once before. In his place was a cold individual who was merely living.
I licked my lips and grabbed the bottle of bourbon. I prided myself on the fact my hand didn’t shake as I refilled his shot glasses. As I marked his new drink on the mini-pad, I answered his question, “Actually, friends of yours came in yesterday. Mr. Baker, Mr. Cooper, and Mr. Mason. They stayed a little while and chatted.”
He hummed. “Finn, Wolfe, and Rune can be a handful.”
I nodded in agreement and decided to touch a subject that could get dicey. “So, your brother. Is he really on vacation?” I had learned Cassander and Godric King were brothers during my escape from the kidnapper.
I knew I hit the nail on the head when his nostrils flared. His mouth tightened as he lifted a shot glass. My eyes skipped over the individuals inside the bar who happened to glance in our direction. It was a weird crowd tonight. Cassander tipped his head back and swallowed, then lifted the other shot glass, and downed it.
He pointed at the empties again. Not one word exited his mouth.
I swallowed on a dry throat. A killer was staring out at me through those silver eyes. It was time to retreat from that line of questioning, his brother so obviously not on vacation. I grabbed the bourbon again, and asked in a chipper voice, hoping to dissuade him from flying over the bar to strangle me, “What brings you here tonight, anyway?”
Cassander stretched his shoulders and grumbled, “My job.”
I blinked as I poured his drinks. “You’re working around here?”
And drinking at the same time?
He shrugged, the silver fur on his coat swaying. “I had a feeling I needed to be here tonight.” He lifted the beer he hadn’t touched yet and waved it at me—as if that explained everything. “So I’m here. Working.”
I picked up the mini-pad again, marking down his two new shots. “Cassander, can I be frank with you?”
“Always.” He sipped at his beer, eyeing me over the edge of the glass.
“I don’t get you. At all.” I set the mini-pad down. “You rescue damsels in distress, wear hostility like a second skin, and speak in riddles.”Not to mention, you can do what no human being can. Oh, like jump a story high.
His lips twitched, and yet, there was still no humor in his gaze. “You’ll figure me out soon enough. You don’t need to worry your pretty little head about me. No matter what, I’m—tragically—one of the good guys.”
