3. Three

Remembering the past was not something I did willingly, but the mind is a fickle thing, and mine was like ice cream.

Against my will, it cradled chunks of my memories into a damn waffle that I consumed with little thought or debate. I loved ice cream. But not memories.

He was supposed to come with me, to see the secret we made all those years ago. He should have seen this: the establishment of liquor, skin, and wonders.

And I made that impossible.

The Diamond Den wasn’t where I’d have imagined Chris to be. Even though it was a rather famous spot, there was a severe lack of diamonds. It was named for its diamond shape.

So original, I know.

The only shimmer came from the lights inside, which were dull at best. Maybe if you were hallucinating, they would glitter. Swirls of smoke and booming music dulled the senses as I walked through the main dance floor on the ground level and located the bar. Black tile covered the lengthy flat top, and leather stools filled with various customers had me debating things. Yes, Chris needed saving, but there was an open seat…

What would one drink hurt?

“What’ll it be handsome?” The bartender leaned her breasts forward and reached for an empty glass.

Sliding into the vacant stool, I took in my options. “Whiskey.”

Her hands disappeared under the bar while I took the time to appreciate her lush curves. Her ebony hair hung in tight ringlets, and her pouty lips were painted in a deep eggplant. A soft golden blush of shadow rested on her lids, and her skin-tight crimson dress only accentuated her generous hips. She had the creamiest skin. I wondered what her skin regimen was.

She looked like a body oil type of woman.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.” Oh, so she caught me looking.

“Why don’t we skip the foreplay, and you meet me in the stock room in ten?”I was a dog sometimes, and there was no use pretending I wasn”t.

She blushed instantly, twirling her finger in her hair absently, and hovered over the bar to get closer. “My boss will notice. But I’m off in two hours.”

Damn, I”m good.

“Shame. Won’t be here in two hours.” I tossed back my drink while she watched it slide down my throat with fuck me eyes.

Before I got any further ambitions of another painfully easy conquest, I paid for the whiskey and pushed through the crowd. Now where the fuck was Chris?

Aryn wasn’t one to drag out things. He would have chopped off that finger and made the man sit in silence. What I couldn’t understand was why he went after Chris. He was a shifter. Aryn didn’t bother with them. He wanted the bigger fish—the ultimate whale in the sea of magical beings.

No, not an actual whale.

Velvet coated the walls of the main room. Which was fucking disgusting. Did the patrons know how many bodily fluids were forever ingrained in the stuff? I did. Some of mine most definitely graced that fabric at one point or another.

Despite that atrocious choice of material, the rest of the Diamond Den was quite tasteful. Black alcoves tucked away private booths behind black curtains, and the sapphire floors created the illusion of walking on water. The spiral twin staircases led to the upper level, where the more prestigious guests lingered with their own private bar and dance space.

And then above that were the offices.

Offices in a nightclub meant one thing: bad guys. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out, and I’d bet my left testicle that Chris was bound, gagged, and being poked with something sharp in one of them. If Aryn wanted to lure me out into the open, all he needed to do was ask. We went way back—layers upon layers of animosity, backstabbing, and maybe a dash of fear.

On the second floor, I spotted two obvious goons lingering in the shadows, pretending to be inconspicuous. They guarded the way up. Which wouldn’t do. Time was of the essence, and my beauty sleep was an impatient bitch.

“Employees only.” Was he joking?

“Tell Aryn I’ve come to collect my kitten.”

The men exchanged a look. One darted up the stairs, and the remaining puffed out his chest. He was just as short as Mr. Darcy. Was he a fairy, too? I took a sniff and smelled only tasteful perfume.

“Did you just smell me?” he growled.

“Where do you stuff the wings in that tight shirt? Are there holes or—”

“Wings? Are you a fucking moron?”

Riding on instinct, I reached over his shoulder and grabbed him. Now, that might have gone badly if I had been wrong. But I wasn’t wrong. The glamor vanished, and he flailed when I tugged at a purple translucent wing. Spinning and ducking out from under my hold, I couldn’t fight the shit-eating grin that formed on my face.

He pulled a pistol out and aimed it at me with red cheeks. “You trying to die tonight?”

“Please, for the love of all that is good. Yes,” I whimpered and clapped my hands together in prayer.

“W-what?”

“Just move,” I sighed, pushing him out of my way.

“You can’t go up there—”

“Yes, I can,” I called over my shoulder, and he stood dumbfounded.

Dark offices? Check. Chris bound and gagged? Check again. Damn, I was good at this.

An exceptionally well-crafted dagger was angled at his cock, and a pistol was aimed at his forehead. But the thing that was missing from the scene was Aryn. That bastard wasn’t here. I rolled my eyes as the dance began.

A swarm of muscle and bullets flew at me. Probably six or seven goons threw fists while a few hung back, peppering me with gunshots.

I liked that shirt, damn it.

Blood exploded out of me, but I’d grown so used to pain that it felt more like a tickle than my muscles being shredded from the inside out. Grabbing the closest, I dug my fingers into his throat and slammed my fist into his chest. He bellowed and dropped. I cracked my neck and grinned. The others were either too stupid or weren’t informed who I was.

Dodging the incomers, I swerved through them with light feet and jumped onto the black desk. My leg fanned out, and a booted foot cracked into a beautiful face. Then, it instantly rearranged. He landed with a thud, and the crunch of his neck landing against the desk at that angle was disgusting.

But I had little time to quell my guts. More rushed me.

Front flipping over Chris, I launched forward and bashed my head into another. After I disarmed the shooter, I took control of their pistol and shot the remaining men, hitting them in the head. As I aimed for the last man, the gun clicked. Shit. I settled on tossing it at his face instead.

Footsteps approached at a rapid pace, and I groaned. “You know,” I started untying Chris, “sometimes I wonder what your kids will look like. Will they have bear parts? Cat parts? Both?”

Chris stared at me.

“What if half the kid”s body is big and round but has a cat head?” I shuddered and removed the final rope.

“Of all the things to say in a time like this?” Chris shook his head and eyed the corpses and still partially living men.

“Or worse! A bear”s head on a cat”s body.” I grinned. The image was fucking hideous to imagine but hilarious at the same time. No wonder the two didn’t procreate, and Ariel was so adamant about her monthly tincture.

“Atreyis!” a voice said over my shoulder.

Horrible.

It was Tanner.

Tanner, the hulking, two-brain-celled Ogre.

No, he wasn’t a dimwit because he was an Ogre. The man was just worthless regarding anything other than sheer strength and brute force. And he just so happened to be Aryn’s errand boy. That big puke green face scanned the room, and Chris flinched as a few more men flanked him.

My shirt was ruined.

A bullet hole had gone through my boot.

This was ridiculous.

“Hello, my dear. Great seeing you.” I curtsied and then shoved Chris behind me.

“Get ”em.” It”s a typical bad-guy line. Why?

At first, I could have sworn only three pulled out their pistols when Tanner turned heel and left.

I think.

Blinking at least a dozen times, I counted six. Six people? When did they get here?

Chris shifted behind me and beelined for the door in his house cat form. His striped tail was tucked and hackles raised. His children would be atrocious.

Anyone other than me would’ve been offended that he”d abandoned me like that, but I’d done my part, so it didn’t matter if he left me there. These twats would be dead in a matter of minutes, and I had a date with my bed.

At least, that was the plan until things got weird.

The walls stretched like taffy, and the tiles beneath me rippled like water.

CRACK!

Someone landed a punch, which was intense, not the regular tap. Punches didn’t hurt me like that one did.

Staggering back, I palmed at the desk because my legs decided to quit their job and walk out on me. Before I knew what happened, my balls shot up into my stomach, fleeing for their lives, and I doubled over—low blow. Then, an onslaught of feet, fists, and a crowbar wailed into me. What was happening? When did I become inept?

A curvy, stunning woman in a tight red dress swayed into the room. Her full breasts pressed together, and she knelt to show me a row of white teeth. That fucking bitch.

“He looks awful,” she gestured to one of the cowards around me. Her voice sounded different—distorted and full of bass.

All I wanted to do was say something witty—clever. But only blind rage bubbled to the surface. She fucking drugged me!

So I said the only thing that I knew wholeheartedly would be true. “I never forget a face.”