14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Rissa

“How about another one, Miss Rissa?” Mason asked from his spot at the bar. It was about eight in the evening and the place was half full of patrons. Mason had arrived only five minutes ago and was already asking for his second beer. If he kept this up, he’d be dead drunk in less than twenty minutes.

“Give me your car keys,” she demanded, holding out her hand.

Mason blinked. “My car keys?”

“I’ll serve you all the beer you want, but I’m not letting you get behind the wheel of a car.”

A giant grin spread across his face. “Awww, that’s sweet. But it would take at least three kegs to get me drunk.”

Even as he said that, he fished a small set of keys out of his jeans pocket. The guy was large, probably somewhere around seven feet tall, bald, with an oddly square face and gorgeous gray eyes. If she didn’t already have Anatoly and Zan in her life, she might have thought of flirting with the giant.

“He’s fine to drink quite a bit, Rissa,” Anatoly said from his end of the bar. He was sipping a glass of wine and watching her as he did most nights. Even when it was both her and Zan, he tended to watch her more.

Was it weird that she liked it this much?

Mason’s smile disappeared when he looked at Anatoly while holding out his keys to Rissa. “Thanks, but I don’t need you to speak up for me.”

Damn, these two must’ve had some altercation in the past.

Anatoly wasn’t bothered by Mason’s attitude. He simply took another sip and turned his eyes back to Rissa.

Rissa accepted the keys and hung them on a small peg board behind her. “You can have them back if you can do that sobriety check thing,” she explained. She’d seen other bartenders do it, so she was confident she could put Mason through it too. It wasn’t common, but it was good practice for a small place like this with so many repeat customers.

“Sure thing,” Mason said, his smile back as he spoke to her. “Now about that beer?”

She pulled another pint from the tap and handed it over. While he was taking his first swallow, she noted down his drink in the ledger Zan kept behind the counter. It turned out that he billed the regulars once a month for their drinks. No place Rissa had ever worked did that, but Zan said the people who came to Sanguine were part of a small community, so things were done differently here.

The place was still in business, so who was she to question how they did things?

A trio of two men and a woman walked in. The first guy was normal sized and dressed in nice slacks and a button-up shirt. The second guy was big, not as giant as Mason, but still large enough to have to duck slightly to make it through the doorway. In comparison, the woman next to him was tiny!

“I’m so ready for a drink!” the woman said. When she saw Rissa, her smile dimmed a little, and she looked puzzled. “Uh, hi, where’s Zan?”

Rissa kept her customer service smile in place. “Zan had to run out, but I can make anything you like.”

Both men stepped up to stand on either side of the woman. The big guy took her hand, and the smaller one wrapped an arm around her shoulders. The way they surrounded her was sweet and pointed to them being a throuple. She’d met more throuples while working in Sanguine than she had in her entire life. It was nice.

The smaller guy gave her an inquisitive look. “Zan makes the drinks that Cora likes. When will he be back?”

“Zan left me with his recipe book,” Rissa said, understanding now why Cora’s smile had flagged. She held up the battered notebook. Then she set it down and flipped toward the back. She was sure she’d seen the name Cora there. Triumphantly, she held up the notebook. “Found it! I have Cora’s drink right here. If you guys take a seat, I’ll mix it right up.”

Cora's expression went from mild disappointment to excitement. “Perfect! I’ve been looking forward to a Cora Cocktail all week!”

“It’s only Tuesday,” the bigger guy murmured.

“Don’t tease me, Pike,” she said. “Considering the number of pain-in-the-ass clients I’ve had, it feels like it’s already been a week.”

“I offered to eat them,” the smaller guy said, making Cora chuckle as they led her to a table in front of one of the bar's windows.

“Thanks, Kimble,” Cora said. “I’ll keep that in mind if Donald gives me trouble again.”

Rissa focused on mixing Cora’s cocktail while the three’s conversation joined the gentle buzz of talking in the small bar. As she mixed, she got three other orders that she jotted down on a small pad of paper. Although years of waitressing gave her a great memory for orders, she didn’t want to risk alienating one of Zan’s customers by mixing up a drink. This place was precious to him, and she was starting to feel privileged to work here.

No one here yelled at her, snapped their fingers, or got nasty. Some customers weren’t very talkative, but that was the worst it ever got. Many of the clients were even so friendly, they constantly invited her to join them for a drink. It was sweet and made her never want to work anywhere else ever again.

Reading the little note at the bottom of Cora’s Cocktail, she added a bunch of colorful garnishes to the drink, then saw that Zan had written in Pike’s and Kimble’s preferences in a different ink color. The second day she worked here, he made sure to add details like that to the notebook. It helped her a lot, and she was able to pour the two men drinks before carrying everything over to the throuple.

“Here we are, one Cora Cocktail,” she announced, setting it down in front of the petite woman. “Here’s a glass of Hefeweizen for Mr. Pike and red wine for Mr. Kimble.”

“It’s just Pike and Kimble,” Pike said with a smile. “No mister needed.”

“Red wine?” Kimble asked, picking up the glass and sniffing.

“It’s the special stuff,” she promised. “Zan gave me a list of everyone who can only drink that specific vintage because of allergies.”

“Oh, yes, my allergies,” Kimble agreed, taking a sip, then smiling up at her. “Zan is very thoughtful about that.”

“He really is,” she agreed. There were so many lists of preferences and individual cocktails that sometimes it took her minutes to find what she needed to know. There had to be a better system!

She looked at Cora. “If that drink isn’t as good as what Zan would make, then it’s on the house.”

“I bet it's perfect,” Cora said.

Rissa would’ve liked to chat a little more, but she had several orders to fill, and Mason was probably ready for another beer. “Shout if you need me.”

“Allergies?” she heard Cora ask as she turned, but she couldn’t hear the rest as she moved through the pass-through and started fixing more drinks. She winced, hoping she hadn’t revealed something Kimble didn’t want Cora to know!

Suddenly, Anatoly was standing next to her with a tall glass of ice water. “You need to drink some water. You haven’t had anything for over an hour.”

At least she wasn’t holding a drink this time. Last time he’d done that, she spilled someone’s beer all over the counter and had to draw a second one.

“We need to get you a bell or something,” she muttered, then felt bad. He was only trying to look after her. “I’ll drink that as soon as I get these orders out.”

“You say that and then you forget,” he argued, turning her to face him. Moving in close, he pressed her against the counter, his pelvis against her belly. She leaned back a little, not intimidated but turned on. She couldn't help it; she loved it when he got forceful.

“Move it, Anatoly,” she said. “I said I’d drink when I was ready.”

He didn’t move. “You’re ready now.”

She really shouldn’t bait him, but she couldn’t help it! Lifting her chin, she smirked. “No.”

He put his mouth to her ear and whispered, “Drink this now, or I’ll throw you face first over this counter, pull your pants down, and rub that pretty clit until you come. Right here, in front of everyone.”

Damn, he was pulling out the big threats!

When he scraped his teeth against the shell of her ear, she shivered. The man was deliciously evil. She was tempted to push him further but knew he’d carry out his threat.

“Fine,” she muttered. “I’ll drink the water.”

“Good girl,” he purred, before straightening up and pushing the glass into her hand. She downed it quickly, trying to ignore the way Anatoly's approving look made her belly flip-flop.

Once she’d finished the water, he gave her a little kiss on the mouth, then returned to his seat. Blowing him a kiss, she went back to work.

***

An hour later, everyone had drinks and things were quiet. Rissa took that time to check her phone. There were several text messages from Zan assuring her he’d be back by ten. It was 9:55, so he should be getting there soon.

That made her smile with relief. It wasn’t that working at Sanguine was hard, but she missed him. Furthermore, she didn’t feel right when both men weren’t close by.

The front door crashing open made Rissa look up. A tall, lithe woman stood in the open doorway of Sanguine. Her shirt was ripped, her jeans were covered in dirt, and she was breathing so hard she couldn’t talk.

Her terrified eyes said it all.

Rissa grabbed a bottle of wine by the neck, ready to use it as a bludgeoning weapon. Whoever had hurt this girl wasn’t getting another chance at her.

“It’s okay,” Rissa said as she moved around the bar. “You’re—”

She didn’t get a chance to reassure the woman any further. Five heavily muscled men, who all looked eerily alike, barged into the bar. The woman collapsed on the floor, curling up into a ball and whimpering.

“Why the fuck did you run, bitch!” one of them said, reaching down to grab her.

She was too far away to get there in time, so Rissa raised the bottle to throw at the guy. Before she could let it go, Mason was on them.

“You’ll not touch her!” he snarled, grabbing the first goon by the shirt and tossing him across the room. He hit the far wall, leaving a good-sized hole in the drywall.

“We don’t want to fight you,” one of the guys said. “She’s been paid for. She needs to come with us. You don’t want to piss off McConnel, do you?”

“That name doesn’t carry weight here,” Anatoly said, coming up behind Rissa and wrapping his arms around her. She was relieved to hear Anatoly standing up for the girl.

“McConnel can kiss my ass!” Rissa said. “She’s not going anywhere.”

Four more guys showed up, all of them similar to the first five, down to the outfits. What was going on, were these guys clones or something? Had she stepped into a science fiction movie without realizing it?

“What’s taking so long?” one of the new guys said, then saw all the hostile faces and froze. By now, everyone in the bar was standing and glaring at the men. To her absolute shock, the guy Mason threw into the wall walked back to join the group as if nothing had happened.

Now she was sure something weird was going on. No one brushed off something like that. These guys must all be high as fuck.

“We can’t let her go,” the one who’d warned them about McConnel said. Or maybe it was another one. It was hard to keep them straight because they all looked alike. Was there such a thing as identical nonuplets?

“We can’t let you take her,” Anatoly said. He picked Rissa up and shoved her at Pike. “Take her and Cora upstairs. Keep them safe.”

“Hey!” Rissa protested at the same time she heard Cora arguing.

“No way! You’re not dragging me off.”

“I’m not dragging, I’m carrying,” Pike said as he passed behind Anatoly with a girl under each arm.

Rissa wasn’t amused. She would never leave Anatoly to fight without her backing him up!

“Let me go, you big fucker,” she ordered, trying to get out of his hold without doing damage. The guy was only trying to protect her, but when she saw the stairwell looming, she took drastic action.

“Sorry,” she said before she slammed her fist into Pike’s crotch. The man went perfectly still, then slowly sank to his knees while letting both women slide out of his grip.

“Pike?” Cora asked, rushing to stand in front of him. “What happened?”

“Get him upstairs,” she said to Cora before scrambling to her feet. When she turned to join the fray, she froze at what she saw.

She blinked, not believing her eyes. There were three wolves the size of mastiffs fighting the strangers. Where Mason had been standing was a stone gargoyle with a long sweeping tail, horns, and clawed hands. He grabbed one of the men and literally ripped him in half, throwing the two halves to the sides.

Anatoly and Kimble were grappling with several of the men, and while they hadn’t changed into animals, both men’s eyes were glowing red.

Then Zan entered the bar. He didn’t even pause when he saw the chaos. His outline blurred, she heard ripping clothing, and then there was a huge mountain lion standing where he’d been.

The identical nonuplets had changed as well. All of them had big spikes coming out of their backs and their fingers ended in long, curved black claws.

“I’m dreaming,” she whispered. That was the only explanation. Or someone had snuck shrooms in one of her drinks.

A table hit the wall not far from where she was and exploded into kindling. One of the pieces of wood hit her in the cheek, causing her to flinch.

Reaching up, she felt the spot. It hurt. When she brought her fingers back down, there was blood. This wasn’t a dream. She was really here, seeing these things happen.

Then her gaze was drawn to the woman who’d run into Sanguine. She was still curled up on the floor, sobbing.

Fuck, she was right in the middle of everything. The world might have gone strange, but there was someone in danger, and Rissa felt the driving need to help.

Crawling on her hands and knees, Rissa skirted around the fighting and got to the woman.

“Hey, can you move?” she asked.

The woman opened her eyes, looking up at Rissa with both hope and confusion.

“You’re human?” she whispered.

“Of course—” Rissa stopped herself. There was no “of course” with everything going on. She tried again. “Yup, 100% human, and I want to get out of danger. Can you come with me?”

Movement caught her eye, and she glanced to her right. The guy that the gargoyle had ripped in half was slowly coming back together.

“Oh, that’s not good,” she mumbled.

The woman followed her gaze, then let out a little whimper when the guy’s eyes moved, and he looked right at them.

“Come on!” Rissa said, grabbing the woman's hand and half leading, half dragging her behind the bar. As far as safe went, it wasn’t much, but it was better than being right next to the front door. The woman curled up against her, clutching at her with a surprisingly strong grip.

“It’s okay,” Rissa soothed. “I’m sure everyone out there will take care of those things. No one’s going to hurt you.”

“Only putting salt on them will stop their regeneration,” she explained with a sniff. “They’ll keep coming back over and over again until everyone is exhausted. I need to run!”

Rissa raised up on her knees and looked over the bar top. The nonuplets were spread out across the bar, blocking both exits. Pike and Cora were gone, hopefully sheltering upstairs like Anatoly ordered. That was good, she didn’t want the other woman getting hurt because of her.

“We’re not going anywhere yet,” she said, sinking back down.

That’s when she saw that the woman had found a knife. She was focused on it, her tears drying up. Rissa didn’t like the weird calm that had taken over the woman’s expression.

“I won’t let them take me to McConnel, or anyone else,” she said, her voice flat. “I’ll kill myself first.”

With shaking hands, the woman pressed the knife tip to her throat.

“That’s not something we're doing yet,” Rissa said, plucking the knife from the woman. The woman looked shocked that Rissa took the weapon, but didn’t try to get it back.

“You don’t understand, I’m a landless nymph. They’ll never leave me alone,” she said.

“Who won’t?”

“Vampires,” she whispered.

“There are vampires in this reality, good to know,” Rissa muttered. Then something the woman had said earlier came back. “Salt! You said something about salt.”

“These durmin were made with earth and blood magic. They can’t regenerate if you sprinkle salt over them while they’re in pieces,” the woman said with a nod.

Rissa crawled a little further down and pulled out the three-pound tub of salt stored there. It was the bulk salt Zan used to refill the container on the bar top for salting the rims of glasses.

“Salt!” she declared triumphantly. Then she frowned. “Does it have to be special salt? Like kosher or blessed by priests or anything?”

The woman blinked, and for the first time, looked hopeful. “It only needs to be salt!”

Holding the tub against her with one arm, she scurried down the bar and looked around the end of it. The fighting was still going on, but as the woman had predicted, she could see some of her people were getting tired. The mountain lion and wolves were bleeding from several places. The gargoyle was moving slower, and Anatoly and Kimble were battling several of the nonuplet each.

Getting to her feet, she rushed to the nearest nonuplet. He was using his single arm to drag himself closer to where his legs and other arm lay flopping like fish out of water.

Swallowing back bile, she pulled off the top of the tub and grabbed a handful of salt. Her first toss did nothing because she was too far away. Getting closer, she rained a second handful of salt right over his lower half, trying to get the stumps.

She didn’t know what to expect, so when he screamed, she screamed with him. Flipping over on his back, the thing kept shrieking and flailing. Not far from him, the skin on the severed limbs melted away, leaving lines of heaped up bones. They weren’t even human bones; they looked like they came from something small, like rats or squirrels.

Then the rest of him started doing the same thing. Starting at the stumps, his solid form melted away, leaving piles of little bones in the rough shape of his thighs, pelvis, and stomach. It was a relief when his head turned to a collection of tiny bones because he stopped screaming and went perfectly still.

“That was trippy,” she muttered. A crash reminded her she had to do this eight more times. “Right, time to earn the big bucks!”