“You filthy whore!” Kyle roared. “How dare you! I am an Angel of the Lord, and I can smite you! You will leave this place, and I will lay hands upon you...”
Midway through his rant two sets of hands came down upon his shoulder from two sober Angels, both very good looking, one of which quickly said, “Sorry, Lizzie, he doesn’t mean it.”
“But... But...” Kyle said.
“Get out of here,” the Angel roared, “All three of you.” He turned back to Lizzie. “Keep the gold and here’s something extra for the trouble.” He laid some fifty dollar bills on the bar. “They won’t trouble you again.”
Lizzie lowered the shotgun and nodded. “Thanks, Adriel, I appreciate that.”
Their friends dragged off Kyle, Peter, and John while Adriel and his friend nodded to Lizzie and left after them. Lizzie put her shotgun back and pocketed the coin and bills before clapping her hands. “Who needs some drinks?” she called, and several people put up their hands.
She started slinging drinks effortlessly as though nothing had happened, but when she got to the right end of the bar to see if the mysterious stranger needed a refill, she found him glaring at her. She raised an eyebrow, took his glass, and refilled it, setting it in front of him.
“Have we got a problem?” she asked.
He shook his head. “My name is Miles,” he sipped his beer, “and clearly you do have the answers I’m looking for. So if you don’t mind, I’d like a word in private.”
Lizzie frowned and shook her head. “I don’t have any answers for you, Miles, other than your food is ready, so I’m going to go get it.” With that, she walked off to get his food and the tray of condiments that came with it. She set it down in front of him and walked off again promptly. The way he looked at her, the way he stared at her, it made her uneasy.
She waited at the other end of the bar, not wanting to be near him long enough for him to talk to her again. Every time she glanced at him, he was staring at her, even while he was putting a piece of steak in his mouth, and it made her lips feel dry. She looked away, goosebumps forming up and down her arms. She picked up her cloth and wiped down the bar again, so wrapped up in her own thoughts that it took a Fae three times to get her attention to order a drink.
“Sorry, honey, I’ll get you a rum and coke now,” she said, moving to pour the drink hurriedly. It brought her close to Miles again, and she could feel his eyes trained on her. She wanted him out of her pub, but she didn’t want to make another scene about it; it would be silly to. Once she had given the Fae her drink, she undid her hair and shook it out before tying it up and out of the way again into a short ponytail. She was all too aware of the time that ticked by as Miles watched her, and it felt like forever until she could ring the bell for the final round and hear the groans of everyone whining that it was too early to close.
She walked over to Miles. “Final drink?” she offered.
“No, I’m done,” he said. He stood up and placed some more cash on the bar. “Keep the change.”
“Thank you,” she called to his retreating back as he left. She had never felt more relieved to see someone exit her bar. She took his dirty dishes to the back as the waitresses came to cash up while she was busy cleaning. Everyone surged forward to order final drinks and Lizzie was kept plenty busy for the next hour before she finally got to flick the lights on and off and give everyone the boot out of the building. Some whined and griped, but they all behaved like the good little Angels they were and left. The waitresses and cook stayed behind to help Lizzie tidy up, and when all that was left was to take out the trash, Lizzie bid them farewell and started to lock up.
Chapter Six
Miles
He knew that he was on to something with Lizzie, the bartender; she clearly had answers to several of the questions he had, especially about the location of his colleague John Patrick. Still, Miles couldn’t be sure how deep Lizzie was into this entire plot. He needed to play it cool; he hadn’t initially. There was something about the funky looking punk rocker that set him on edge. Balancers were supposed to be in constant control of their emotions, so maybe it had something to do with his temporary transformation to an Angel, or perhaps it was something to do with the magic hanging in the air. Still, Lizzie had set him off, and he didn’t like it. Her piercing green eyes, jet black and pink-streaked hair, and punk rock clothes were nothing to write home about. She was pretty to look at with a nice figure and sizeable breasts, but those things didn’t matter to a Balancer; they couldn’t love or fall in love. They could not be swayed, would not be swayed. No emotion could take hold over them. They had one job.
He had one job.
After the bell for the final round rang, he had decided to leave the warm club and wait outside for the crowd to clear. Lizzie lived above the bar, so it wasn’t as though she was going to go anywhere, but still, he could get back in if need be. He waited for an hour in the alley beside the bar where the trashcans were kept as the Angels, the Fae, the Pixies, and various other good-aligned supernaturals poured out of the building and left for their habitats. Another forty-five minutes and the two waitresses and cook finally left as well, and Miles knew it was time to act. He considered his options and wondered if he should just walk back in when the door nearby opened and Lizzie walked out hauling four large bags of trash, two in each hand. She saw him, paused for a moment, and then made her way to the dumpsters nearby.
“We’re closed,” she said, “and you don’t want to start looking for trouble here.”
“Or your Angel friends will threaten me?” Miles asked curiously.
Lizzie looked over at him and then at the door to the building as though making an educated guess as to how fast she could reach it.
“I just want answers,” Miles said. “I’m unarmed.”
Lizzie snorted. “Everyone’s unarmed when it suits them and armed when it suits them even more.” She put her hands on her hips and sighed. “It would be safer for me to talk inside where I know you can’t draw a weapon on me. Come on.”
She walked quickly to the door as though she didn’t trust him not to attack her here, out in the open, and entered the building. Miles walked inside and felt the familiar pressure of magic surround him; he was no longer a threat to her. He followed her down a back corridor that led back to the bar, and she walked behind it.
“Drink?” she offered. “And I’m guessing not a beer.”
“Whiskey,” Miles said, “Neat, please.”
Lizzie nodded and poured two glasses of whiskey then slid one over to him as he sat on the opposite side of the bar. “What do you want?” she asked. “I haven’t got all night.”
“What’s happening in the city?” Miles asked, “Where are all the Demons?”
“I don’t know,” Lizzie said, smacking her lips after taking a sip of the expensive whiskey she had poured for them. Miles took a sip of his own and shook his head.
“So you just didn’t notice they stopped showing up at your bar?”
“I didn’t say I didn’t notice their absence; I just said I don’t know where they are.”
“And the Balancers that have been here and disappeared?” Miles asked, “Where are they?”