Releasing a shiver, she stood, she would finish preparing for the day then she would head to the bar Stanthos frequented. Usually, she’d use her magic in her everyday life, but she had to be more careful.
While she was sure she’d covered her tracks, it wasn’t impossible for someone to be suspicious and pay a little too much attention to the ball that hovered in the depths of the Shade. Her magic was tied to it, too much use of it would alert her sister that she was still alive.
The secret of her life over death must continue until she’d found her father.
Bar Fight
LANIAS
The bar wasn’t the nicest, it was off a dirt road in the back woods of Tennessee.
Wood paneling could easily be used as kindling if the owner inside refused to be helpful. Counting the number of motorcycles in the parking lot, she was sure those inside probably wouldn’t be that welcoming to an outsider, but she didn’t care what they thought.
Over muscled humans were the least of her worries. The minute she entered she heard the door bang loudly behind her, and all the humans inside turned to look at her. Some dismissed her, turning their attention back to their drinks.
While a few weighed her with sharp gazes, clearly wondering what had brought her to such a place. She had kept her clothing understated, if her sister saw her now, she wouldn’t believe it. The tight gowns and sharp suits had been replaced with jeans, leather boots and a fur trimmed leather jacket. She kept it simple, blood made too much of a mess and as often as she’d had to spill it over the last few months, it was getting exhausting cleaning it.
“Are you ordering a drink or just standing there all night?” Someone demanded, that someone she soon realized was the bar tender. His face was clean, and he wore a simple button-down blue jean shirt and jeans. He quirked a brow at her, clearly expecting her to either walk toward the bar or stay in the short foyer.
Tilting her head slightly, she moved toward the bar. “I just wanted to make sure everyone got a clear view of what I have to offer.”
His lips twisted. “I don’t allow no selling of fucks around here.”
“Who said anything about selling sex?” she asked, reaching the bar and looking over his stock. “I only wanted to make sure they understood.”
He glanced at something behind her before his gaze returned to her. “Look, I don’t think you understand just where you are, missy. This place isn’t just for anyone to waltz into, if you understood anything you’d be running back out of here.”
Lanias smiled at him when suddenly a heavy hand landed on her shoulder. Her entire body locked before she could stop it. For the briefest second her breath caught, her skin crawling beneath his touch, the smell of sweat and stale liquor invading her nose. The memory of cold stone walls and unwanted hands flickered behind her eyes. Then it was gone.
She kept her smile.
A smile was a weapon, to hide, to deceive, and to negotiate with.
“Sir, what’s your name?” she asked the rude human behind the counter, her voice smooth and even as if nothing had happened at all.
He frowned, clearly wondering what was wrong with her. “Gilbert. They call me Gil around here.”
“Well, Gilbert.” She placed a hand atop the one that had been set on her shoulder. Her fingers were steady now, precise. “I understand your words.”
She lifted the hand and tightened her hold slowly, deliberately, until the man behind her began to sweat and released a sharp scream. She twisted it sharply, turning to her right and lashing out with her foot, causing the burly man who’d thought to harass her to fall to his knees.
“Fuck, let go,” he cried, reaching to pry her fingers off. She jerked his hand higher, bending it at an angle it was never meant to hold. He released another cry of pain and fell slightly forward, his weight sagging.
Without hesitation she reached inside her coat and pulled out a shiny knife. The blade caught the dim bar light as she pressed it against his throat with dangerous pressure against his throbbing artery. She could feel the pulse racing beneath the edge, frantic and uneven.
He sucked in a quick breath, his eyes widening in fear as he looked into her cold eyes. For a moment she studied the terror there, the way his bravado had vanished.
“Shit, ca-calm down. Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” he whimpered.
Lanias tilted her head slightly, her smile never wavering, though her grip tightened just enough to remind him how fragile skin truly was.
“I never regret anything,” she mused aloud, looking up. “Tell your men to sit down.” Her voice was calm and held not a single tremble. “I’ve come here to find one person, and I would love to leave here knowing that not a single person lost their life to my hand.”
The stranger swallowed, trying to look out of the corner of his eyes but seeing nothing he yelled. “Jim, Billie, all y’all, sit the fuck down.”
“But Hue—” Billie called.
“Shut up and sit down,” Hue yelled, sweating beads at his brow. He gazed into her eyes and saw only nothingness reflected back at him from those cool black eyes. No fear, no remorse, nothing. A clean slate, and the steadiness of the woman’s hand made it obvious she was used to taking life. “The-they’re sitting down.”
