ep. 4
.
"You meeting your friends?" he
asked, and he bent down, far too
massive to disappear under the bar
as he searched for the honey.
"Any moment," I glanced down at
my cell phone, checking the time. I
had hoped Aubree would already be
at the bar but at the moment I was
the sole patron.
I watched Abe, always amazed by
the way the broad man was able to
move with such grace. Whoever
created the myth that Dvergar are
short and stout clearly never met a
true Dwarf. Abe was as tall and as
broad as any full-blooded Dwarf
though his skin lacked that white
pallor that the race was so known
for. Of course Abe was only half-
Dvergar. He could never have a bar
or even a piece of property in the
Human city unless he was able to
prove Human lineage of one parent
for at least three generations back.
Posted beneath the massive sword
was an elaborate plaque, both with
his photo and his Human
citizenship papers but as well as a
golden engraving of a family tree,
the beautiful depiction of his Human
heritage. Yet, perhaps tongue in
cheek, he also displayed his father's
lineage, tracing four generations
back of Dvergar history, as if to out
do the Human side by one
generation.
I was trying to read the names along
the tree limbs when the door to the
pub burst open with both the chime
of the bell and an explosion of high
laughter. The ward sang
"Huuuuman" in a sweet falsetto
voice and I turned in my seat,
expecting to see Aubree. But while
three Humans walked into the bar,
they certainly weren't my friends.
Like me they were in their early
twenties though their skins glowed
unnaturally for Humans, their bright
eyes clear and filled with an eerie
light. They strode into the bar, wide
triumphant grins on their flushed
faces. Each a shade of blond they
looked like they could be sisters
though their bone structure was off
enough that I was sure they were
simply chosen for their physical
similarities.
"One bottle of Fae wine," the leader
giggled when she reached the bar,
her fingertips rapidly beating
against the wood as she waited.
Very few things can make a Human
glow so extraordinarily and I was
willing to bet it was Vampire blood.
Sure enough, as she brushed her
soft pale hair from her shoulder I
saw the blue veins that crept up the
side of her jaw and down her neck,
darkly circling around twin puncture
wounds. The venom has burned
through her veins, leaving the dark
track marks across her skin in the
very tell-tale sign of a Vampire
Mark.
I cringed, leaning away from her.
The girl didn't even have the
decency to try to cover it up!
She turned her head, flashing white
teeth as she smiled at me brightly.
Her hazel eyes were slightly off,
hazy, no doubt still in the last throes
of the venom. It took her a moment
to focus on me, to see my large eyes
and easy to recognize delicate
features. But really what gives it
away is the headscarf, I think.
It was her turn to cringe, leaning
away from me with a curled lip.
Most Humans don't have such a
severe reaction but leave it to a
Vampire Blood Minion to so clearly
exhibit the racial hatred between the
Nephilim and Vampires. She
grabbed the wine bottle, throwing
down the cash and rushing to her
friends who had commandeered a
table by the window. I watched as
three heads leaned in, angry eyes
flashing my way and pretty lips
grimacing in thin lines.
I sighed and turned back to Abe.
"Ignore them," Abe said, his large
hands expertly toweling down a
mug. "They're not used to your
kind." He winked one eye at me.
"Nephilim women don't come
around often."
"Well I'm not used to their kind
either," I mumbled back, taking a
sip of the milk and honey he had
placed before me. I hardly registered
the sweet taste, more consumed
with the thought of Blood Minions. I
have met very few Humans who
were so willing gave themselves
over mind, body, and soul to a
Vampiric master and their presence
disturbed me.
Abe chuckled, a low rumbling
sound. "I'll never understand the
Human's fascination with the
Vamps. A damn dangerous thing."
That's for sure. Getting bite by a
Vampire can lead to far more than
just a so-called unbelievable high
and lost blood. Even if the Vampire
didn't kill you, addiction is far worse
a fate. I shuddered at the very
thought.
"I'm turning on the TV," one of the
girls yelled in a high voice,
snatching the remote control off the
bar. She threw a glance over her
shoulder at me, glaring but also
staring. Abe was right. Nephilim
women don't visit Human cities
often and I wouldn't be surprised if I
was the first she had ever seen in
person. Curiosity almost won out
over trained dislike.
The flat screen television flared to
life and she flicked through the
channels, quickly turning back to
the screen when she saw me
watching her. A familiar set of cords
flowed from the speakers and I
recognized the brief music at once.
She paused at the channel, as I was
certain she would, and with a sneer
directed at me she turned up the
sound. She threw down the remote
control, skipping back to her table
as if she had won some glorious
battle.
Lucien Mesonger, the lead singer of
Sons of Demons, filled the screen,
his new video, "Narcissism is a
Disease" filling the pub with his
eerily beautiful music. Lucien had
the voice of a fallen angel, and the
dangerously dark good looks to
match. I had yet to see the new
video and found myself shifting to
the edge of the seat, leaning on the
bar and drinking in the sight with an
obsessed devotion.
Lucien's music started with a mix of
angry guitars and sad violin, a
concoction Lucien had created and
then cornered the market with. No
one could play both rage and agony
like he could. His voice filled my
world, a sad lilt with an occasional
angry outburst. He was all harmony,
every note he uttered was perfection
and I dipped my head back, closing
my eyes. As always his voice
washed over me, causing my body
to sway to his beat. He could break
my heart with his voice, and the
tone of his music so easily swayed
my own emotions. It was the only
music that could calm me, could
pluck cords deep within my body
and make everything else melt
away. He brought me to this
wonderful, blissful place where only
his voice existed.
I grew up on Nephilim musicians
and knew they were the best in the
world. Yet I had always found them
lacking in some way, in some
element that I couldn't quite name
and most Human music was
talented but boring. I've heard a
Ljósálfar singer when I was younger,
and she knocked the breath clear
from my chest, but one memory of
one Elven singer can hardly hold a
flame to the sheer passion and raw
emotion Lucian cried out or invoked
in me.
There was only one problem. One
colossal, blaring problem.
Lucien was a vampire. A Born
Vampire, to be exact.
"Don't tell me you're a fan," Abe
interrupted, causing me to startle
slightly.
I open my eyes and blushed deeply.
"Define 'fan.'"
He shook his head, though he still
smiled lightly. "I'd say anyone who
becomes that engrossed in just a
few minutes is a fan."
I sighed, bringing the mug up to my
lips and refusing to meet his eyes. "I
do like his music," I shamefully
admitted.
"I don't judge," he added and he
truly seemed like he was
unconcerned.
"And I thank you for that," I said
softly, sipping the drink. I couldn't
help but tilt my head slightly, being
drawn back to the siren call of
Lucien's voice.
It was stupid, really. Stupid,
dangerous, and most definitely
wrong. And yet I was unable to pull
myself away. I'd like to say it was
some mystical Vampiric power but
the sad fact is that Lucien is just
that good. And I'm just that weak. It
was a devotion I had to keep buried
and hidden from my family and
everything Nephilim. Listening to
Human music would earn you a
nasty look from a Nephilim. Adoring
a Vampire's voice was practically
grounds for exile from the White
City.
Two hands clamped down hard on
each of my shoulders and I let out a
very high screech, twisting away
from the hands. The mug flew out of
my grasp, spilling milk and honey
across the bar in a splash of white.
Aubree shriek and jumped to the
side, two hands clamped over her
mouth and her eyes just as wide as
my own.
"Good God do you have a set of
lungs on you," she gasped, her face
still stark with surprise. "Someone's
going to think you're getting
murdered in here"
With one hand over my wildly
beating heart I yelped "Aubree! You
scared me half to death!"
"I didn't know she was going to
react like that," Aubree gasped
behind her hands. She managed to
hold back her outburst for a fraction
of a second. Then she lost the battle
and exploded. Throwing her head
back she barked out a laugh, her
slender shoulders shaking with the
effort. I had come accustomed to
the masculine habit, and thought it
even charming on her. She clung to
the side of the bar, ignoring the milk
that trickled down the bar and
dripped onto the floor. "You had to
see your face!" She managed to cry
out between breaths. Either she
didn't see or she effectively ignored
the scowl Abe threw her way as he
wiped up the spilt milk.
"I'm glad you find this funny," I
growled, brushing off beads of milk
from my brown skirt. "You
practically gave me a heart attack!"
Which was mostly true. My heart
was still going to mile a minute,
and my hands were shaking. I
couldn't fault her for laughing
though. Aubree and I were scared of
very different things. Her parents
would be possible irate to know
their daughter was in a mixed-race
bar and listening to a Vampiric rock
star. The Nephilim world would
consider my parents merciful if they
only stripped me of my name, home,
and title.
"Aww, I'm sorry," she pouted,
throwing her arms around my neck
in friendly hug. "Don't hate me."
I couldn't help but laugh lightly.
"Never," I said. Aubree's pretty
much impossible to stay angry at
anyway. She practically glittered in
the light. Her lip, brow, and ears
were pierced, and around her neck
hung variant silver necklaces to
match the clattering bangles and
bracelets around her wrists. To
accommodate the heat she wore a
shirt that barely could be considered
one, and the lack of clothing
boasted her artful tattoos as well as
her slender frame. Her low-rise
jeans might as well have been
painted on for as tightly as they
hugged her tiny figure. I myself
could never even imagine being
dressed in so little clothing, but
Aubree seemed to enjoy baring large
portions of skin to the world. She
was as alive as they come, a
veritable bundle of energy and her
vibrant neon blue hair was a
testament to her outrageously
courageous personality.
"You just missed Lucien's new
music video, by the way," I baited
with a smile as I turned the cup over
and tried to help Abe mop up the
puddle of milk. She would hate it if I
saw the video before her.
"First take this off," she said
suddenly, snatching the headscarf
off my head. My long, tawny curls
tumbled across my shoulders and
down my back and I yipped slightly,
immediately trying to tame the
mass. "I never understand you
Nephilim women and these head
things," she shoved the scarf back
into my hands. "Now what were you
saying?"
I managed to sooth the curls though
I almost immediately missed the
comforting shield of my headscarf.
"I was saying that you missed
'Narcissism is a Disease' video—"
"Oh my God, I already downloaded
it. Doesn't he just look like a god!"
She groaned, splaying herself across
the bar in a mock death.
"What's with all the screaming," a
male voice interrupted, causing me
to jump yet again.
"You guys are going to kill me," I
grumbled, pressing a hand over my
heart.
"I surprised Lily," Aubree grinned up
at her brother, finally plopping down
into a seat. "I nearly gave her a
heart attack. It was awesome."
"Yeah, thanks for that," I threw back,
my hands again fluttering to my
hair, a bit nervous with it exposed.
Caden shrugged one shoulder at the
both of us. "I figure you can take it,"
he said with a playful jab at my
shoulder and I tenses slightly. I
wasn't used to males touching me.
"You know, with you being Nephilim
and all."
I tried not to cringe when Caden
made points of noting my half-
angelic blood. He didn't mean it as
an insult, just noting the vast
difference between him and me.
"Yeah well, Nephilim blood doesn't
stop me from death by way of heart
attack, so you might want to
consider that the next time you let
your sister off her leash." I grinned
at her to let her know I was joking.
"She's dangerous."
Aubree gave a very distinct snort.
"I'm about as dangerous as a kitten
on crack."
"Very colorful imagery, Aubree," I
covered my smile with one hand.
Aubree winked a bright hazel eye. "I
try." Black nail polished fingers
twisted at the ends of her hair as
she adjusted her do
Caden ignored the both of us, pulling
out a stool and sinking onto it with
a despondent sigh. "Scotch on the
rocks," he demanded, running his
hands wearily through his hair.
Neither Caden nor Aubree were what
one would classify as classically
beautiful, and yet their was that
something about them that tended
to draw the eye. Caden's hair was a
soft brown with fine red highlights,
the color I could assume Aubree's
was under all the dye. His eyes were
just as hazel as hers, though, and he
had his own share of piercings,
though not nearly as much as
Aubree. Yet he managed to look
rough and tough with black metal
glittering in his brow and lip, the
claws of a tattooed dragon just
barely peeking out from under his
black t-shirt collar. He was short by
Nephilim standards, only a few
inches over my own five foot seven,
but Humans weren't normally as
tall as Nephilim so I couldn't be
sure if he was short or average for a
Human.
Abe grabbed a bottle off the shelf
and Caden interrupted him mid-
pour. " Human scotch," he snapped
vehemently.
Abe shrugged, downed the half-shot
of scotch before getting another
glass and pouring Jonny Walker
over ice.
I arched my eyebrows at Aubree.
Aubree shrugged one shoulder.
"Him and the Bitch are fighting."
I understood that well enough.
Caden was on again off again with
their band's lead singer and, from
what I could gather, the off again
times were rather vicious.
A loud chirp interrupted my thoughts
and Aubree pulled out her cell phone
to check her text message. Her face
brightened immediately. "Perce is
on the way," she practically sang.
"Oh, and speaking of band stuff," she
perked, hopping up and down on the
seat. "Let's see what you have." She
clapped her hands, beamingly
deeply.
"Now?"
"Sure, why not?"
Admittedly I'm a bit self-conscious
about my artistic work and shared
very reluctantly. But when Aubree
held out her hands imploringly,
bobbing in her seat like an over
enthused child, I was forced to
shoved my hand into my bag and
push aside my uniform, books,
spare shoes and clothes until my
fingers brushed a slender black
folder. This was the whole reason I
was here, after all.
I just started to pull out the folder
when the door chimed again and
once more the ward sang out,
"Huuuuman," for all to hear.
Helena swept into the room like the
queen she thought she was. A pretty
girl, though perhaps lacking in true,
natural beauty, she still managed to
think herself the center of the earth.
She flipped her curly peroxide
induced platinum blond hair over
one shoulder and proclaimed, "I'm
here," as if the whole world was
simply awaiting her presence to
start.
I caught Aubree rolling her eyes.
Neither of us really cared for Helena,
but it's hard to kick the lead singer
out of the band. Especially when the
small local fan base we had were
all so willing to lick the silver heels
of her boots.
Caden scowled, his brow gathering
darkly and he speared Helena with a
vicious glare. The woman
thoroughly ignored him, turning her
back to him and leaning against the
bar.
"Do I have something for you," she
purred, giving us the full benefit of
her blinding smile and from her
black bag she pulled out a thick
magazine. "A gift from my father,"
she said with a triumphant smirk.
Her father owned a string of popular
bookstores, and though normally I
never thought of his occupation, I
suddenly saw the benefits of his
position. The newly released GQ
magazine rested in my hands with a
very gorgeous, very nearly naked
Lucien staring up at me.
"Oh," I breathed out as I stared at
the god like creature on the cover. I
decided I might reevaluate my
dislike for Helena.
"Oh is right," groaned Aubree and
the three of us leaned over the
magazine, drinking in the sight.
Lucien was giving the photographer
a half smirk that looked so at home
on his full lips. He was flashing just
the barest amount of fang, enough
to send a shudder of mixed
emotions through me. His bright
grey eyes all but glowed and I found
my eyes raking over his bare chest,
noting the perfect definition in his
chest, the toned abs, and the very
notable cut of his hips. The jeans
were hanging low enough on his
hips that I was thinking very un-
ladylike things. I could envision
running my hands across those
broad shoulders or wrapped around
that narrow waist. He was a lithe
figure, the tight, toned body that
was without the extra unneeded
bulk I had seen on so many other
male models.
"I would do such dirty, nasty things
to him," sighed Aubree and Helena
nodded in agreement.
A part of me, a very large part of me,
wanted to agree with them, to just
think like a Human, and to ignore
the fact that Lucien was an evil
creature that would kill me as soon
as kiss me. Or maybe kiss me and
then kill me. That seemed a little
more likely when it came to
Vampires.
The problem for me was that Lucien
didn't really look like a Vampire. His
skin was a brushed russet, a dark
tea color that was so different from
the stereotypical pasty white
vampire shade. His thick black hair
was not quite long enough to brush
his shoulders and cut around his
face in an extraordinarily human,
very cutting edge style. He was
nothing like the one Vampire I had
seen years ago, who had been white
and cold and savage. To me Lucien
didn't look like all the images I had
conjured up in my head during all
those long Nephilim lectures about
our enemy race. For the most part,
when I looked at Lucien, I pretended
he was Human. I tried to tune out
the guilt that washed over me
whenever I gave his pictures such
appraisal, and if I really
concentrated, really pretended, I
could convince myself that Lucien
was no more than Human, and thus
safe to admire.
But it doesn't really work like that.
And I could pretend all I wanted, but
hopes and dreams weren't going to
change Lucien from Vampire to
Human or to anything else.
And sadly I was setting myself up to
learn that very painful lesson.