Burning Dawn
Page 13
Elin smiled as she replayed a conversation the girls had last night.
Bellorie: So, get this. A gorgeous were-shifter stumbled into the bar. He was already drunk, and paused to stare at me like he’d never seen anything more beautiful. Because, of course, he hadn’t.
Savy: Until I walked in.
Octavia: I must have had the day off.
Chanel: I’m pretty effing sure I was hanging out with Octavia.
Bellorie: Wow. Could you guys be any more narcissistic?
Chanel: I’m not narcissistic. I’m perfect.
Bellorie: Anyway. He kissed me, only to pull back and mutter an apology. He said he thought I was his wife, ’cause I look just like her. I kneed him in the balls, and called him a lying, cheating son of a troll. He then said I sounded just like his wife.
Octavia: I bet you told him to bring the female with him the next time he visited the club, because she had to be the wittiest, smartest person ever.
Bellorie, blinking innocently: So you were there?
Immortal divas were fun.
But the girls were more than beautiful—and more than aware of that beauty. They were kind, uninhibited danger junkies, and quite competitive. They were serious about their dodge-boulder league, which was exactly what it sounded like. Dodgeball with boulders.
If only they were members of a jazz club instead.
They practiced every day. Hard-core practicing, at that. Running for endurance. Throwing their bodies against slabs of concrete to increase pain threshold. Navigating complicated obstacle courses while dodging the weapons the other girls pitched at them. Things like knives, metal stars and hammers.
They were determined to become national champs.
Elin barely survived the practices—even though, for the time being, she was only allowed to watch.
A clatter of dishes snapped her out of her musings.
Mind in the game. Right. Tonight, a live band would be playing. The group of five Sent Ones—Shame Spiral—were in the process of setting up. Elin found her gaze constantly returning to the lead singer.
Sexy did not even begin to describe. He had a slow, sensual smile loaded with all kinds of naughty suggestions.
Mind in the work game, Vale.
She would soon be toiling at the tables, on her own for the first time. And she could do it. She knew she could. She’d learned a lot. The most important lesson? Find a niche and stick to it. Each of the girls had one.
Bellorie flirted outrageously.
Savy was a stern taskmaster.
Octavia acted shy.
Chanel pretended to be an airhead.
Elin thought she might go for plucky best friend.
The girls never seemed to mind when their butts were pinched, or when they were tugged onto laps, or when masculine hands traveled somewhere they shouldn’t. While Elin craved contact, she didn’t crave a mauling, and she wouldn’t be able to pretend otherwise. She would cry or freak out, and the patrons would be offended. She would lose her (probably substantial) tip and anger Thane. Therefore, it would be best for everyone if she stopped all potential groping attempts.
She drummed her fingernails against the mahogany counter meant to separate the employees from the clientele. The area had recently undergone repairs and now sparkled like new despite the dimness of the atmosphere. Alabaster walls were carved with intricate symbols. The marble floors were polished, and scattered throughout was all-new furniture.
Apparently, Kendra had tried to torch the entire building before Thane returned her to camp, but Adrian, Thane’s very fierce head of security, had managed to contain the damage.
Customers would arrive at any moment. Paying customers! The myriad of Phoenix-kebabs outside had drawn more and more gawkers every night. A few had even asked to have their picture taken in “the little yard of horrors.”
Don’t think I’ll ever get used to this world.
“Nervous?”
The gravelly voice shocked a gasp out of her, and she whipped around to face the intruder.
Adrian. A big mountain of a man she kinda sorta considered Neanderthal chic. He had a wide forehead and slightly overarching brows. A sharp, prominent nose. Stunningly lush lips. And a stubborn chin. He wasn’t classically handsome by any means, but he was somehow all the more beautiful for it. Maybe because every inch of him screamed male.
He was immortal. He radiated too much power to be human, the waves of it stroking across her skin every time he neared, startling her. But she wasn’t exactly sure what he was.
Should she try to use him for protection?
“Very,” she finally replied. As strong as he was, he might belittle her for requesting aid. Or, like the Phoenix, he might turn her fears and weaknesses against her.
“No reason to be. Thane doesn’t allow those under his care to be hurt without severe consequences. Which means, neither do I. Only a fool would strike at you.”
“That’s the problem. Alcohol creates fools. And I’m not like the other girls, able to defend myself against a roomful of sadistic man-sluts. Not that everyone here is sadistic,” she rushed to add. “Or a slut.” Crap! Her shift hadn’t even begun, and she was already spewing verbal vomit. “They aren’t. Really.” And besides, how would Thane know what anyone did to her? There’d been no sign of him, or his two besties.
Not that she’d looked—around every corner.
Not that she’d waited, eager. Not that she’d gone to bed disappointed every single night, feeling as if she’d been abandoned by him. Which was silly! She barely knew him.
“People never forget my consequences, drunk or not,” he said. “I’ve been told to take good care of you, and I will.”
“Thank you. But who told you to take good care of me?” Had the absent Thane been thinking about her, sending orders on her behalf?
“Xerxes.”
Oh. Won’t give in to any more disappointment. Especially since there was no reason for the emotion! Xerxes and now Adrian were looking out for her. For a former slave, that was a dream come true.
“I have to warn you,” she said. “I’m going to say the wrong thing tonight. Guys are going to assume my butt is part of their order, and I won’t be able to help myself. Fights will break out, and the moment they do, I’m going to curl into a ball and suck my thumb.”
His lips quirked at the corners. “I’ll handle it.”
Amusement? Really? “Won’t my behavior drive customers away?” And get me fired? Perhaps literally.
Bellorie: So, get this. A gorgeous were-shifter stumbled into the bar. He was already drunk, and paused to stare at me like he’d never seen anything more beautiful. Because, of course, he hadn’t.
Savy: Until I walked in.
Octavia: I must have had the day off.
Chanel: I’m pretty effing sure I was hanging out with Octavia.
Bellorie: Wow. Could you guys be any more narcissistic?
Chanel: I’m not narcissistic. I’m perfect.
Bellorie: Anyway. He kissed me, only to pull back and mutter an apology. He said he thought I was his wife, ’cause I look just like her. I kneed him in the balls, and called him a lying, cheating son of a troll. He then said I sounded just like his wife.
Octavia: I bet you told him to bring the female with him the next time he visited the club, because she had to be the wittiest, smartest person ever.
Bellorie, blinking innocently: So you were there?
Immortal divas were fun.
But the girls were more than beautiful—and more than aware of that beauty. They were kind, uninhibited danger junkies, and quite competitive. They were serious about their dodge-boulder league, which was exactly what it sounded like. Dodgeball with boulders.
If only they were members of a jazz club instead.
They practiced every day. Hard-core practicing, at that. Running for endurance. Throwing their bodies against slabs of concrete to increase pain threshold. Navigating complicated obstacle courses while dodging the weapons the other girls pitched at them. Things like knives, metal stars and hammers.
They were determined to become national champs.
Elin barely survived the practices—even though, for the time being, she was only allowed to watch.
A clatter of dishes snapped her out of her musings.
Mind in the game. Right. Tonight, a live band would be playing. The group of five Sent Ones—Shame Spiral—were in the process of setting up. Elin found her gaze constantly returning to the lead singer.
Sexy did not even begin to describe. He had a slow, sensual smile loaded with all kinds of naughty suggestions.
Mind in the work game, Vale.
She would soon be toiling at the tables, on her own for the first time. And she could do it. She knew she could. She’d learned a lot. The most important lesson? Find a niche and stick to it. Each of the girls had one.
Bellorie flirted outrageously.
Savy was a stern taskmaster.
Octavia acted shy.
Chanel pretended to be an airhead.
Elin thought she might go for plucky best friend.
The girls never seemed to mind when their butts were pinched, or when they were tugged onto laps, or when masculine hands traveled somewhere they shouldn’t. While Elin craved contact, she didn’t crave a mauling, and she wouldn’t be able to pretend otherwise. She would cry or freak out, and the patrons would be offended. She would lose her (probably substantial) tip and anger Thane. Therefore, it would be best for everyone if she stopped all potential groping attempts.
She drummed her fingernails against the mahogany counter meant to separate the employees from the clientele. The area had recently undergone repairs and now sparkled like new despite the dimness of the atmosphere. Alabaster walls were carved with intricate symbols. The marble floors were polished, and scattered throughout was all-new furniture.
Apparently, Kendra had tried to torch the entire building before Thane returned her to camp, but Adrian, Thane’s very fierce head of security, had managed to contain the damage.
Customers would arrive at any moment. Paying customers! The myriad of Phoenix-kebabs outside had drawn more and more gawkers every night. A few had even asked to have their picture taken in “the little yard of horrors.”
Don’t think I’ll ever get used to this world.
“Nervous?”
The gravelly voice shocked a gasp out of her, and she whipped around to face the intruder.
Adrian. A big mountain of a man she kinda sorta considered Neanderthal chic. He had a wide forehead and slightly overarching brows. A sharp, prominent nose. Stunningly lush lips. And a stubborn chin. He wasn’t classically handsome by any means, but he was somehow all the more beautiful for it. Maybe because every inch of him screamed male.
He was immortal. He radiated too much power to be human, the waves of it stroking across her skin every time he neared, startling her. But she wasn’t exactly sure what he was.
Should she try to use him for protection?
“Very,” she finally replied. As strong as he was, he might belittle her for requesting aid. Or, like the Phoenix, he might turn her fears and weaknesses against her.
“No reason to be. Thane doesn’t allow those under his care to be hurt without severe consequences. Which means, neither do I. Only a fool would strike at you.”
“That’s the problem. Alcohol creates fools. And I’m not like the other girls, able to defend myself against a roomful of sadistic man-sluts. Not that everyone here is sadistic,” she rushed to add. “Or a slut.” Crap! Her shift hadn’t even begun, and she was already spewing verbal vomit. “They aren’t. Really.” And besides, how would Thane know what anyone did to her? There’d been no sign of him, or his two besties.
Not that she’d looked—around every corner.
Not that she’d waited, eager. Not that she’d gone to bed disappointed every single night, feeling as if she’d been abandoned by him. Which was silly! She barely knew him.
“People never forget my consequences, drunk or not,” he said. “I’ve been told to take good care of you, and I will.”
“Thank you. But who told you to take good care of me?” Had the absent Thane been thinking about her, sending orders on her behalf?
“Xerxes.”
Oh. Won’t give in to any more disappointment. Especially since there was no reason for the emotion! Xerxes and now Adrian were looking out for her. For a former slave, that was a dream come true.
“I have to warn you,” she said. “I’m going to say the wrong thing tonight. Guys are going to assume my butt is part of their order, and I won’t be able to help myself. Fights will break out, and the moment they do, I’m going to curl into a ball and suck my thumb.”
His lips quirked at the corners. “I’ll handle it.”
Amusement? Really? “Won’t my behavior drive customers away?” And get me fired? Perhaps literally.
