Amanda Bonilla: Blood Before Sunrise

I’d keep him out of trouble, all right. And if that meant using my body and all of my feminine wiles to do it-then so be it.

Ty lay softly snoring in my bed. He was one tuckered-out genie. I admit, keeping him sedate with sex wasn’t the best plan in the world, but I didn’t have much else in my arsenal at the moment. I couldn’t stop thinking about this mysterious Man. Azriel and Delilah could have been in on the secret, sure. But that didn’t explain my dream. Had my subconscious conjured the Shaede girl and her warning? Who was this Man? Why did he want me? And what the hell did he plan on doing with me once he found me? I wasn’t willing to draw Tyler into any of it. Wishing him out of danger was out of the question, even if it was for his own good. I didn’t own him, regardless of what the bond said to the contrary.

I wriggled my feet into my familiar black boots, feeling a little more like myself. The sun had been past the horizon for an hour, and no matter the advantages my evolution brought, I still felt more comfortable at night.

Shrugging into my black duster, I tossed a note on the empty pillow, where I should’ve been sleeping. Ty would follow me when he woke up, but at least I’d have a head start.

Gone to talk to Levi.

If The Pit had been open twenty-four hours a day, I’d have moved in. I felt absolutely inconspicuous there-a feeling I cherished. Though the bar’s clientele wasn’t exactly limited to those of the human persuasion, it was just normal enough for me to blend in. Most nights I sat in the darkest corner of the place and people-watched to my heart’s content.

Levi bartended two or three nights a week-mostly weekends. His college-boy looks made him stick out like a sore thumb in the decidedly rougher atmosphere of the bar, but it did wonders for his tip jar. Clean-cut and all-American, Levi had vapid frat-boy written all over him. Looks can be deceiving. Levi was a walking supernatural encyclopedia. If it wasn’t human and walked the earth, he knew something about it. But his services weren’t cheap; even information came with a price tag. Probably how Levi funded his Abercrombie wardrobe and teeth-whitening sessions.

“Don’t worry about bringing a shit storm down on this place,” Levi said, sliding a Midori sour across the bar. “This is neutral ground. You’re safe here. What’s after you this time?”

I sipped the froufrou drink, wrinkling my nose at the syrupy-sweet tang. He served me something new every time I came. First one of the night was always on him. “I wish I knew,” I said, leaning into the bar. “Looking for someone to help me shed a little light on that. Want to throw your hat in the ring?”

Levi poured three shots of vodka and passed them over to the cocktail waitress. “I’ll give it a go.”

I leaned in even closer so I wouldn’t have to shout over the music pumping overhead. The DJ was in rare form, House music being the flavor of the night. I less than loved his selection. “What do you know about a Man from The Ring?”

Levi pulled away and studied me for a second as if trying to decide whether I was joking or not. He didn’t bolster my spirits much. “Could you get any vaguer, Darian? Please tell me that’s not the only bit of information you’re working on.”

Fantastic. Hunter: one. Hunt ed : zip. I was getting nowhere, fast. “It’s all the information I have. You don’t have a clue?”

He thought it over while he mixed a few drinks. You have to be a multitasker-and-a-half in his line of work. He could probably write a dissertation and juggle at the same time. “Ring,” he finally said, shouting over the heart-stopping bass of the music. “It could mean anything. That’s the problem. It could literally be a ring, like a spirit trapped in a ring. Maybe even a crown. Or it could be something else entirely. A place, or the notion of a place. I’ll need more to go on before I can be any help.”

Disappointed didn’t even begin to describe how I felt about Levi’s lack of knowledge. I’d formed the opinion there wasn’t anything he didn’t know. I guess it wasn’t like I could just pop a quarter up his nose and have an answer spit out of his mouth. It would’ve been nice if it worked that way, though. “Sorry, but I’m pretty sure that’s all I’m going to get.” Considering I killed the asshole who might know more than that little snippet. And my other lead is mad as a hatter. “What am I looking at here? Can you ask around, see if any of your contacts know anything? Or am I basically fucked?” I slid a hundred-dollar bill across the bar, and he stealthily scooped it up and stuffed it into his pocket.

Levi laughed, showing perfectly straight white teeth. He reminded me of a toothpaste commercial. “You’re not fucked, yet. Give me a few days. I’ll rattle some chains and see what I can come up with. In the meantime, you’d better find a table. Drama’s coming your way.” He jerked his chin toward the entrance.

I recognized Tyler’s shock of coppery curls as he fought through the crowd at the entrance. Even from across the bar, I could tell he was pissed. My jaw set, ready for a fight, I gave Levi a little toast and hauled my ass to my favorite dark corner. I sat with my back against the wall, the open area of the club visible from all sides. No one was going to sneak up on me here.

I sipped the girly green drink, which was starting to grow on me, and innocently trained my eyes on the dance floor. With Ty following my every move, I wasn’t going to get anything accomplished. If I hadn’t cared about him so much, I would have wished his ass permanently in my apartment. But, just like the drink in my hand, Ty had grown on me as well.

“Sneaky, aren’t you?” he said, throwing himself into the chair across from me. He slapped his palm down on the Formica tabletop, the sound cracking, even above the blaring music. “Think you can just screw me into a coma and run?”

I pretended not to hear him, though my preternatural ears picked up every syllable. Well, I had thought screwing him into a coma would keep him safely out of trouble. Bringing the glass to my lips, I drained it in a couple of gulps, then ran my tongue over my now-sugarcoated mouth. Something stronger was in order, and I raised my empty glass to a cocktail waitress who changed course for our table. “Bourbon, neat.” I turned to Tyler. “You want anything?”

The waitress looked to Tyler, recognition dawning on her face. A sultry smile replaced her regular customer-service grin. Her lids drooped almost imperceptibly, and she bent over, showing a sad attempt at cleavage, betrayed by one of Victoria’s secrets. “Hi, Tyler!” she shouted. “The usual?”

Jealousy had never been natural for me, but I felt a stabbing twinge of it right in the center of my chest. Tyler glanced at me from the corner of his eye, a lazy smile creeping onto his handsome face. “Sure. Thanks.” He plunked a bill down on her round, cork-covered tray. “Keep the change.”

She turned to leave, and I stuck my leg out straight, pointing a booted toe to the sky. It wasn’t entirely my fault that she tripped; she should have watched where she was going. Besides, she recovered well enough. The girl at the next table caught her before she hit the floor.

Our waitress had her wheels spinning for Ty; she made it back with our drinks in less than two minutes-impressive. She placed the Seven and Seven in front of Tyler, reaching from behind him to allow her breast to graze his shoulder. The bourbon, she set in the middle of the table. Someone wasn’t going to get a tip from me, unless you counted a bloody nose and a couple of broken ribs.

I sat up from my slumped position and retrieved the glass, draining it in a single swallow. It burned all the way down, and I welcomed the heat. The warmth spread, real, comfortable, true. Despite what had happened to me, the liquor’s effect hadn’t changed. At least some things stayed the same.