He shrugged, “Never know until you try.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
She couldn’t hear Bear’s response as another member of his biker gang yelled across the room, “Hey Bear! Stop flirting with the bartender. Her answer is no. Now bring us the beer!”
Even from beneath his bushy beard, Layla could see his cheeks shimmer.
“Right then,” he mumbled, “Thanks for the pastries. Really.” He slid the box under his arm and picked up the tray of mugs. As he began walking to his gang, he turned back to her and said, “But if you change your mind about getting on a bike, just let me know. I would love to take you for a ride. ‘Sides, you’d look fabulous in one of our custom-made jackets, darling.”
She watched him take the drinks to his squad. Each member of the FGs had a leather jacket covered in glitter, rhinestones, and fancy embroidery. Although each jacket had the fae tree embroidered on the back, they all had different emblems and symbols added to various other places. Bear told her once that each of the symbols the FGs wore were reminders of the people they’d helped along the way. When she asked for the story about the giant, flaming heart with a crown wrapped around it, he’d claimed it reminded him of a girl he’d helped years before escape a poisoned apple. She hadn’t believed him.
“You should have seen the way the old sea hag flailed about as my darling Adira snatched the conch containing her voice back,” Potts, one of the FGs, roared. Beer sloshed over the brim of his mug as he swung it around. The giant, glittering seashell he’d had embroidered onto the breast of his jacket sparkled as he moved. He rose from his seat and began dancing as the first lines of “Born to be Beautiful” began playing on the jukebox.
Other members of the gang rose to their feet to join him.
“There’s nothing wrong with loving who you are!” they sang in unison as they began dancing. Layla watched them from the bar and wondered what it would be like to be that free.
Sprig sidled to the stage set up at the opposite end of the bar and pulled out a tiara from the treasure box of props. The silver shoe encrusted with rhinestones on his jacket lit up like an explosion of fireworks as the spotlight landed on him. He walked down the middle of the stage with his hands on his hips, belting the anthem at the top of his lungs.
As the song began winding down, Rene, another member of the gang, strolled up to Sprig and placed a kiss on his cheek before slipping a silver coin into his trouser pocket. A spindle ran up the length of his arm with jewels and embroidered flames encircling it. He’d told her once that it was meant to symbolize a princess he’d helped escape a sleeping curse.
Linking hands, Rene and Sprig came up to the bar and leaned in to kiss Layla on each cheek.
“Two Rainbow Stars, please” Sprig said.
“With extra cranberry juice,” Rene added. “Make it sweet for me, honey. I can’t drink any more of that beer.” He smiled at Layla as he pulled in Sprig for another kiss.
Layla made the drinks quickly, adding in a few extra cherries into Rene’s glass. She’d always felt an affinity towards the FGs. Maybe it was because the day she’d turned sixteen, she’d had the fae tree tattooed onto her back. Or, maybe it was the fact that, despite the trials she’d been through, she still wanted to help people. Regardless, she loved when the FGs made a visit to The Wand.
As the night wore on and other patrons began leaving, the FGs formed a tight circle of chairs at the back of the bar. A few women were still dancing close to the stage and a couple of regulars were lounging by the door. Now that she was less busy, Layla restocked the alcohol and cleaned up spills she hadn’t been able to get to earlier in the night. She had just bent down to pick up a towel that had fallen on the floor when she heard the FGs begin to get rowdy again.
“It’s been twenty years!” Bear said as he slammed his mug on the table.
“Yes, but they say the princess may still be alive,” Sprig said, taking a sip from his glass. “There’ve always been rumors, yes, but they didn’t find the princess’s body when they finished excavating the castle last week.”
“Poppycock!” Potts interjected. “She wasn’t nothing but a babe when King Renard had her assassinated. Scavengers have ransacked that castle from the day it burned. I wouldn’t be surprised if the little lass’s bones are hidden in one of the neighboring towns.”
Layla stuck her head around the bar to peer at them. It was considered treason to discuss the fae royal family in public places. Everyone knew that. Her eyes widened as she saw Sprig hit Potts on the back of the head and begin whispering in a hushed tone to the rest of them. Bear glanced over at her. She immediately pretended like she was extremely interested in cleaning the bar. She scrubbed at it vigorously with the towel she’d retrieved from the floor. Picking up an empty glass, she turned to put it in the sink.
She slipped on a pool of water. Flinging her arms out, she caught herself on the ledge of the bar. Shards of glass embedded themselves deep in her palm as the glass shattered from the impact. Blood seeped from the wound, dropping on the floor in silver splotches.
“You must be more careful!” Penny’s voice exploded in her mind. “I never should have allowed you to take this job. It’s filthy in here. I wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up with an infection or worse!”
Layla rolled her eyes. “I enjoy working here, Penny,” she replied. She closed her eyes and held her breath as she plucked the largest piece of glass from her flesh. Sliding a drawer open, she retrieved a pair of tweezers and began digging into her hand to retrieve the smaller particles. She grunted in pain, her hand burning. Concentrating on her breathing, she applied pressure to the wounds with her shirt. Slowly, the bleeding stopped and the wound began to heal. Her skin melded back together. Not even a trace of grey indicated where the glass had burrowed into her.
“See,” she said to Penny, “all better.”
“Pft,” Penny snorted. “What will you do if your healing ability ever falters?
“You alright there?” Bear asked.
Layla jumped at the sound of his voice. She hadn’t heard him approach. He glanced at her hand and then down at the floor where a pool of her blood glistened in the dim light.
“Oh, yeah,” she said, shrugging. “I’m totally fine.” She slipped her hand behind her back and quickly dropped the towel on the floor, covering up the blood. “Promise.”
“Smooth, real smooth,” Penny chided. “If he figures out you can heal yourself, he might offer you a job. And that job will probably be dangerous. I mean look at them, Layla. Look. At. Them.”
Layla couldn’t help but smirk at her PEA’s worry.
“Something funny?” Bear asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Uh, no. Sorry.” She poured him a glass of what was on tap and smiled at him.
He leaned across the bar and whispered, “Don’t mind Sprig. He just gets a little animated is all.”
Layla nodded towards the man in question, who was now picking up a chair and threatening to smash it on Potts’ head. Bear rolled his eyes, picked up the mug, and ambled back to the group.
“What’s all this about then?” he asked as he set the mug down and promptly retrieved the chair from Sprig’s hands. “What would our dear ladies say about us if they saw us acting in such a way.”