She pitched forward and barely avoided falling on a patron. Horns protruded from his spine, his leathery skin bearing scales like a lizard’s. Eww. She lurched away and halted at the bar.
The guy behind it stopped polishing a glass. Unlike the other males in here, he was on the skeletal side, his sunken cheeks, slicked back hair, bow tie, and funereal suit less attractive than the demons’ various shortcomings.
He slammed the glass on the counter. It shattered and cut his palm. Ebony-colored blood oozed from the cut, which healed instantly. “What are you doing here? You don’t have an order. You never bother me without one, understand? I’m writing you up.” A paper and pen appeared.
He wrote furiously.
She wanted to tell him to shove his comments where the sun didn’t shine but sensed her one-hour break was lessening with each pen stroke. “Wait.” She held up her hands. “I’m new.” After grabbing a tray, she forced a smile. “I’ll get an order.”
He gripped the counter and leaned forward, his long, yellow teeth bared. “See that you do.”
His fetid breath slammed into her. Eagerly, she backed away and approached a table where a solitary demon sat, his attention on a dancing server rather than her.
Heeding Katie’s advice, Megan waited for him to speak as the club went crazy around them. A fight had broken out. The monstrous demons sumo-wrestled, and then broke apart and shot fireballs at each other.
One destroyed several chairs. The next cracked the mirror behind the bar.
The demon at the table she’d chosen cheered on the human-looking fighter before noticing her mound and nipples. On Earth, he could have been Willem Dafoe’s homelier brother. Leaned back in his chair, he gave her body the once-over in slo-mo, one eyebrow arching.
She couldn’t guess if he was pleased or disturbed by her presence and didn’t much care. For her, he was a living nightmare.
“I haven’t seen you here before.” He never came close to looking at her face. “Guess you’re new.”
She felt older than the universe. “Mmm.”
The muscles in his pecs and thick neck bulged. “What was that?”
“Nothing. I was agreeing with you.”
He stared at her nipples. “What’s your name?”
Admitting it wasn’t something she could do, not wanting him to defile the sound in her mind. “Zelda.”
“The fuck it is.” He pointed at her chest.
Within the spotlight’s glare, scarlet letters glowed on her leather strips, each spelling out the same thing—Megan.
Crap. Recalling her legal training, she pretended their brief conversation hadn’t happened. “What would you like to drink?”
His eyes widened, showing the whites. “You’d better not be saying you don’t already know, because you should. It’s on page eight-hundred-and-fifty-five of your handbook.”
Possibly the truth or a lie.
He didn’t say which, offering a challenging smile instead.
Fucking slime ball. She hated guys who used a woman’s bad situation to their advantage. If her downtime hadn’t been at risk, she would have told him to screw off and tried another table. Stuck here, she took an educated guess as to what would please him, “You’d like something potent.”
He licked his fleshy lips, his gaze sliding over her nudity. “We’ll start there, then see what develops.”
In your dreams. If he dared touch her, she’d clobber him. For now, her cheeks hurt from maintaining a fake smile. “Thanks. Back in a jiff.” She plodded to the bar, the wait line ten servers long. Cecil dispatched them within seconds.
She leaned against the counter. “Something strong. You choose.”
His paper and pen reappeared. He wrote quickly. “Two minutes deducted for lounging against the bar. Three for giving me orders.”
Like Giselle, there was no pleasing him. “Fine. Take it all away.” She’d had enough and hadn’t been here a few minutes, she guessed. A huge clock hung above the broken mirror behind the bar. Instead of displaying the numbers one through twelve, it had a dozen letters that spelled F O R E V E R A F T E R.
A perfect title for a fairy tale from the Dark Side. No matter how long she stared, the second hand didn’t budge.
Cecil poured bright green liquid into a glass.
She suspected it wasn’t an apple martini. “Antifreeze?”
He pushed the glass toward her. “Mark my words, you’re begging for the rack.”
Really. “Ever wear stilettos and leather straps? The rack would be a welcomed vacation.” Shuffling at sub-normal speed, she had to dodge the blurred servers on her trip back to the customer. No matter what Katie or the handbook had said, Megan couldn’t do the impossible and zip around like a crazed bunny. “Here.” She put the glass on the table. “Enjoy.”
Two patrons at the next table waved her over. Another infraction for not being at their sides before they needed anything. She held up her middle finger to them but smiled pleasantly. “Be with you in a sec.”
“What is this shit?” Her demon made a face and shoved the glass away, spilling the drink. The liquid sizzled, dissolving the wood beneath it to leave a huge hole. “I asked for something strong.”
The drink had liquefied the floor where it had fallen. Uncertain whether he was putting her on or not, she refused to return to Mr. Macabre’s bar until she had a clear idea what was expected. “Such as?”
“Something better than that crap.” He gestured to the drink, his frown making him uglier. “It’s barely five hundred proof.”
“I see.” She didn’t and tapped her tray against her thigh. “How about a shot of nitro chased by plutonium? Think that will satisfy?”
He stood so quickly, his chair flew back and rammed into another table. Those demons bitched. This one squeezed his fists, veins popping out on his face and chest. “Are you making fun of me?”
“No?”
Flames blazed in his eyes.
Her blood curdled. However, she wouldn’t back down as her fellow servers had. Guys like him and the others fed on women’s fear, delighting in how important it made them feel. If she was going to survive this until she found a way out, she had to stand up for herself. And everyone else, if only by proxy. “Here’s a thought. How about you tell me what you think I was doing, all right? When you’re through, spell out the exact drink you prefer. Once I have the info, I’ll be happy to bring you the order precisely as you want. That’s what civilized people, demons, devils, and entities do.”