Lights down low, hookah smoke swirling around the couples hiding features and intentions. This bar is a nice cozy place to blend in and to not be noticed. ‘Gods know I need to lay low,’ I sigh to myself as the waiter sets my drink down on the small circular table in front of me. If you could call this little structure a table. It is barely big enough to fit my drink and my clutch let alone anything else one would put on a table.
I wait for my server to walk away before reaching for my bourbon, neat with a twist of orange. The first sip of smokiness hits my tongue both cooling it and burning my throat. The amber liquid settles nice and warm in my belly as I lean back in my plush seat. Another sigh escapes my lips as I close my eyes, finally relaxing in my skin. Nothing like a good glass of alcohol to melt away the stresses of the day.
‘Hells, for the century I’m having I would need to drink my fill of the whole distillery.’ My thoughts invade the moment of silence I was barely able to grasp but not hold on to. I guess it’s hard for a djinn to have peace of mind when you hold the relic; a key to open doors to whole universes and dimensions. Once upon a time, I was known as a soul jumper, but once I earned my full powers and my original body back I haven’t been able to access that ability. I will be extra careful with this one.
‘Don’t want to go back to the void,’ I muse as a shiver flows down my spine. I don’t ever want to revisit that place again. I still have nightmares of what awaited me beyond the darkness.
My loose black curls brush my upper back and dance across my shoulders, pulling a sigh from my lips. So many centuries I went without looking into mirrors, knowing I wouldn’t see my own face peering back at me. Several lifetimes have come and gone. Gratefully, with my body and magic returning comes new life and I plan to take full advantage of this one. Nothing and no one will stop me; especially that stupid elf at S.N.O.B.
“I’m with the Supernatural Oversight Bureau and you are coming with me,” I mimic Detective White–Craig’s–voice before taking another sip of my drink. I let the smoothness of the alcohol wash away the sting in my chest that comes with thinking of him. I did the right thing. He was hurt and I couldn’t bring more danger to the crowned prince of Fairy.
‘Then why does it hurt,’ the voice in my head asks as a single tear slips down my cheek. ‘Stupid elf’.
“Am I now?” a smoky voice asks rousing me from my painful introspection. The seat across from me had been empty a moment ago. Now sits a dark vision in a thousand-dollar suit. His ankle crossed over his knee as he lounges.
“Ep!” I squeak, my eyes darting everywhere before settling on him, the Soul Eater. “What?” I asked cautiously. I didn’t think I would see him so soon. I still hadn’t figured out how to remove the mark so he would stop tracking me.
The side of his mouth tilts up slightly in a devilish smirk. His fingers brush mine as he reaches for my glass. I fight with my body to move but I am frozen in my seat cursing Craig for distracting me yet again. My eyes track the movement of the glass as it travels to his full lips. My mouth suddenly goes dry as I watch him take a sip. My tongue sweeps across my lips, wetting them as I watch him swallow the amber liquid. Behind the glass his smirk turns into a grin before he sets the glass back down on the table.
“Am I coming with you?” he asks again breaking the spell of his eyes. I clear my throat, realizing he overheard my mocking of the SNOB detective.
His golden eyes shine even in the dark. His five o’clock shadow doing nothing to hide his strong jaw. The rest of him contained in the tailored Italian suit. Everything a woman would love to have wrapped around her in the midnight hour. Flashes of us intertwined between gray satin sheets fill my mind’s eye causing warmth to spread through me, easing some of the fear I am feeling. “Stop that!” I exclaim in alarm at the intrusive thought.
He chuckles as heat creeps up my cheeks. My drink glass dangles from his fingertips as his arm settles on the arm rest. Imaginings of those fingers on my body creep in raising a blush all the way to my hair line. ‘This is so not happening,’ I think as memories flash of our first encounter. My skin still crawls when I think of my magic being sucked out of me. I shiver again as if a chill had descended over me. ‘This guy has some nerve,’ I fume.
“Come now, Minerva. Can’t we be friends?” he asks as if he had not been hunting me for years and came close to ending me on more than one occasion. Okay, two occasions but that was two too many. I cross my arms and sink deeper into the plush chair.
“Aziz,” he points to himself. “Minerva,” he replies with that damn smile again, pointing at me. He sets the glass down on the table.
“Why aren’t you trying to kill me? “ I ask as I narrow my eyes at him. His aura shifts as he continues to slowly invade my space, leaning towards me.
Aziz’s frame is much larger than I first estimated, because him leaning forward eats up the remaining space between us. His long fingers graze my knee, sending sparks of electricity shooting up my leg. I must stifle the squeak that wants to emerge.
‘You’re in danger girl’, echoes inside my head. I can’t tell if it is from his sex appeal or the literal existential threat he poses to me. My arm hair starts to rise as goose bumps form.
“Now that we are friends –” he begins.
“I never agreed to being friends with the likes of you,” I spit, as my magic and the fire in my belly roar to life finally thawing out the frozen response I had been locked in. Aziz moves back in his seat to lounging as I pick up the remnants of my drink and slam it back.
Bristling at his words, I look around hoping to find an exit. He caught me off guard twice before and I guess this makes three, but I wouldn’t go without a fight. His kind have hunted my kind for centuries if not even longer. One soul eater alone could take down a village of soul jumpers in a matter of hours.
My mind reels as I try to survey the bar. No one is close enough to us for me to jump into, even if my ability was working correctly. I internally curse my power’s limitations. The waiter starts his rounds to see if anyone needs anything. Perfect. I just need to get his attention. I start to raise my hand when my arm is halted by a large warm hand wrapping around my forearm.
“Tsk, tsk. Now, now Minerva. You have nowhere to run and hide. You are stuck here with me.” He pulls my arm back down into my lap. Another zap of electricity flows from his hand up my arm as he slowly releases his grip. The electricity follows the line his fingers trace along my arm. I rub my arm where the ghost of his touch remains.
“Besides, we are just two friends catching up with one another,” he muses as he once more sits back.
“You aren’t here to take me?” I eye him suspiciously. Trusting others isn’t one of my strong suits.
“No; why would I?” he asks dismissively. “As ancient as I am and the many worlds I have walked, why would I turn you into a meal when you have something I want? Even though your soul would feed me for several lifetimes.” His grin is all teeth as his gaze scorches my skin. Hunger and desire filling his eyes.
“What could I possibly offer you, other than my soul?” I ask trying to keep the panic out of my voice. I am not a skilled-ish fighter. I know how to run, duck and dodge. If only I could get that waiter’s attention. My eyes shift back to the server’s direction watching him take another drink order and walk back to the bar. Frack!
“Don’t be silly. You are more valuable to me alive than dead, or I would have killed you years ago,” he scoffs brushing imaginary lint off his suit jacket sleeve. “No, I have a business proposition for you.”
My brain screams for me to jump out of my seat and try to run. But his statement stops me. My curiosity piqued.
“Go on,” I prompt, trying to calm my thundering heart. He smirks again and I want to smack it off his handsome face.
“I need to find an artifact that you may have come across in the past. Unfortunately, where it is currently located, I don’t have access to get there undetected. However, you would be welcomed there with open arms.” He pauses. I wish he would get to the point because I have been to a lot of places, dimensions, and even another universe one time.
“Filania, realm of daemons,” he finishes his words accented with a flair of annoyance.
My jaw drops. What could he possibly want from my father’s realm? I have only been to my father’s realm twice in my existence. Both times ended disastrously. My father wanted me to stay but I couldn’t. Not under his rule and not with his stipulations. My human mother wanted to make sure I had a choice, and we escaped to Earth with others of my kind. I close my mouth and collect my thoughts, my hand closing around the amulet I wear. The key back to Filania.
“What do you want from there?” I ask, suspicious of his request.
“A weapon capable of killing an angel,” Aziz replies, and for a second time I am shocked by him. My hand lowers back down to my lap.
“The Corruptor.” I whisper, thinking to myself what the implications would be if I helped him. Walking a sworn enemy into the heart of my father’s homeland to retrieve a weapon capable of killing a higher energy being, good or bad. It would be chaos. For the first time this night a smile slowly spreads across my face.
“Why?” I ask to see if he really knows what he is asking of me. Aziz sighs, the lines upon his face making him look devastatingly handsome instead of aging him. My smile drops because one being cannot be that fracking gorgeous.
“Old fashioned revenge,” he replies. His face returns to the smooth mask it was when he first appeared in front of me. “I have a score to settle with an angel that owes me a blood debt,” he explains. That I could understand. I had a few scores to settle. There is a demi-god living on borrowed time.
What’s in it for me?” I ask leaning heavily towards helping him.
“SNOB off your back so you can live your life in peace.” He replies.
“It’s that easy?” Now it is my turn to scoff.
“Yes, it is.” He snaps back, his jaw tensing. He shifts his weight over his knees as he leans forward again. His hand skating over my knee. I wish he would stop touching me. It makes me so uncomfortable. ‘It’s because it reminds you of Craig,’ that annoying voice whispers in my mind. I frown.
“Look, I have no quarrel with you or your kind. I couldn’t care less to ever eat another soul again. I just need that weapon. Once I have it, I can release you from my mark and make it so SNOB won’t bother you again,” he pauses.
“After that we never have to see each other again.” He reasons.
Aziz makes a good point, I think. I am finding it hard to concentrate on his words. My attention is on the warmth radiating over my knee from where his palm is resting. A small gasp escapes my lips as his hand slides to my outer thigh, his long fingers brushing the hem of my dress.
“Do we have a deal?” Aziz asks as my eyes flick from where his hand is up to his golden gaze. I smack his hand away and point, about to lay into him about unwanted touches. Even if they feel so damned good.
“Is there anything else I can get you miss?” the waiter asks as he finally makes his way back over to me. My eyes cut up to him as a chill takes the place of Aziz’s warmth on my thigh.
“No, we are done here,” Aziz answers while holding up a hundred-dollar bill for the waiter to accept.
“Thank you, sir,” the waiter grins accepting the money and scurrying away. Aziz stands and holds out to me.
“Shall we,” he commands. He is making a habit of not asking but demanding and it makes me bristle.
“I never agreed,” I mutter. However, I still place my smaller hand into his larger one. Once again, the warm tingling sensation begins shooting up my arm.
“To Filania,” I mutter as we make our way of the club.