Whiskey and Angelfire Page 3

  “The longer we take, the less chance we have of finding Ambriel alive.” Eli’s eyes were a violet storm.

  “I understand. But you’ve got to trust me here. If you start running around trying to interview all the supes, it’s not going to go well.”

  He stood there, arms crossed, simmering. “Fine. I’m going to go check in on something. I’ll be back.” And with that, he stepped onto the pathways, disappearing.

  I sighed and went back inside, walking back up to the others. “So let’s get to that whiskey.”

  Gus grinned and grabbed a bottle from the bar. The four of us sat down at one of the tables. The wood was so worn its surface felt soft and slick. Quinn nudged me and gave me an is everything alright? look. I nodded and tossed back the shot Gus slid across to me.

  Over the next two hours we swapped stories—what I’d been doing, how I met Riley and Quinn, Noir, the angels and how I got embroiled in all that mess. By the time I got to the latter I was fairly intoxicated. Someone had started playing traditional Irish songs in the corner, and the population inside the bar had grown by about a dozen customers. Gus occasionally got up to help someone, but it appeared that he knew everyone and most people just served themselves since he was otherwise occupied.

  Gus sat back down after a brief interruption. I’d just finished telling him about meeting Eli and getting hired by the HR to find his assassin. He shook his head slowly. “I still can’t picture you working for Heaven.”

  “Trust me, sometimes I wonder if I’ve made a mistake,” I said/slurred, slapping my hand down on the table. Well, I meant to slap it, but it flopped to the side anti-climatically like a limp fish.

  “Oh no, I knew you guys were fighting again,” Quinn said, her eyes worried.

  “Did you ever really stop fighting?” Riley added with a laugh. “Man, with all that tension you’d have some really fantastic sex.”

  “We’re not having sex!” I snapped.

  Gus looked at each of us in turn and poured another round of drinks. “Trouble with men. Some things never change with our Kaitlyn—I mean Zyan!”

  He roared with laughter and ducked as I took a swing at him. Riley and Quinn about fell out of their chairs in fits of mirth.

  “You really are a bastard, Gus.” I jabbed an unsteady finger in his direction. “In fact, next time—”

  The threat I was concocting went to waste, however, as several of the bar patrons stood up and ran to the window. A loud rumble reverberated through the building. Dust shimmied down from the rafters above and sprinkled into our drinks.

  “What the hell?” Riley groaned, staring mournfully at his glass.

  Gus on the other hand stood up quick as a flash, his body rigid. The tendons in the side of his neck popped out and a ripple moved across his skin from head to foot. Riley’s head whipped in his direction and he sniffed the air, a purely animal move. His eyes went wolf.

  “What’s happening?” Quinn squeaked.

  I stood too, wobbling a bit. Whatever it was, this was a super terrible time to get caught up in it. We were wasted, though the look on Gus’s face started sobering me up pretty quickly.

  “We’ve been having a bit of a conflict with one of the other shifter clans,” he said, and that was all the explanation we got, because the next moment he shot for the door in a blur of speed that would put a vampire to shame.

  “Not good,” I groaned.

  The other patrons had all headed out into the street too, leaving the three of us alone in the room, booze and adrenaline hanging heavy in the air.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been in a fight when I’m this drunk,” Riley said, running his fingers through his short black hair.

  “Well, there’s a first time for everything.” I grinned and strode for the door. Nevermind that I bumped my hip on the corner of a table on my way out.

  Before I hit the street, an inhuman scream sliced through the night. It sounded like a banshee. Behind me, Riley cowered down, his sensitive wolf ears in major pain. A moment later a chorus of similar cries split the air. I stepped through the front door right as a thunderous roar rolled between the buildings, followed by at least a dozen others. My katana appeared in my hand without conscious thought. I had witnessed a lot of battles in my life, but the scene before me was one of the scarier looking ones. Yeah, I was sobering up pretty quickly.

  To my right stood a couple dozen dragons, ranging in size from that of a full-grown buffalo to a large van. They were all different colors, green and red and gold and purple; a rainbow flung across the cobblestones of the damp Dublin street. I knew Gus was a water varietal dragon, but there were many other types among his clan—fire and sand and forest among them. As I watched, Gus yelled and spun in place. By the time he finished a tight circle, his human form had been shed, his flesh melting into scales, his yell turning into a magnificent roar that shivered my bones. He stood on his hind legs, moon white and obsidian swirls of scales covering his undulating body, a mane of soft spikes along his spine and tail.

  On the left, down the street several dozen yards stood a herd of horses. But no ordinary beasts were these. They were twice the size of a large domestic horse, for one. Their coats shone, shimmery metallic in a range of earth hues, reminding me of the wings of the angel warriors—not soft at all, but something flexible and hard at the same time. Smoke snorted from their flared nostrils, releasing an acrid scent into the air. Eyes of orange fire or glowing blue mist lit the dark sky like faerie lamps, and where they pawed the stone, sparks flashed from their hooves.

  With one final volley of screams on my left and roars on my right, the battle of the horse and dragon shifters began.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I couldn’t exactly say which side of this fight I was on. While Gus was an old friend, I had no idea what quarrel his clan had with the horse shifters, and I wasn’t about to jump right in and go berserk. Looking over at Quinn on my left and Riley on my right, I could tell we were all on the same page. Plus, I was still half drunk, despite the rude awakening of a shifter gang war happening at my feet.

  Apparently, however, our neutrality was not sensed by all. As the two sides clashed together in a blur of scales and hooves and claws and teeth, an enormous bronze stallion charged toward us. Quinn threw a spell at the horse which it quickly deflected. I had almost forgotten—the dragon and horse shifters could work magic. They were among only a handful of shifters that could. And here they were together on the street. Fun times. We dove to the side as the beast thundered past, snorting orange smoke.

  As it wheeled around for another pass, Riley shifted into wolf form. He had extreme mastery over his transitions, so it took only a couple moments. His body morphed fluidly, his cocoa skin turning to chocolate-colored fur, his head elongating, teeth and claws extending. He leaped onto the horse’s back. It reared, a flash of dim gold in the night. Riley burrowed his teeth and claws into the creature’s neck, but a moment later it bucked and spun, flinging him hard into the wall of the tavern.

  The stallion lowered his head and bolted at Riley, who lay crumpled against the building. I shot forward, throwing myself into the horse’s shoulder as it closed in. The thing outweighed me by a ton, but I carried enough momentum to knock him off his course. Plus, the punch of magic I added helped, too. He stumbled and went down in a tangle of legs, crushing part of the exterior wall as he smashed into it.

  A bestial roar rose from the creature, a sound I’d never heard from a horse before, and I’d battled Nightmares in Brazil. It got to its feet quicker than I would have thought possible given its size, its glowing eyes fixed on mine. With a toss of its mane, it screamed again and flew at me, all heat, rage and liquid energy. I brought my katana up, crouching down to slice at its belly, but it was coming so fast I didn’t know whether I would be able to impale it before it crushed me under its hooves. I held my breath.

  In a blink it was upon me.

  Something flashed before my eyes and Eli dropped from the sky like a meteor. He l
anded between me and the shifter, bracing his shoulder into its chest and flipping it over our heads in an arc. As if time had frozen, the horse soared over and around us before colliding with the cobblestones in a bone-shattering crash. Eli rose from his semi-crouch, pewter wings flaring out, eyes a beautiful fury. My mouth went dry.

  The stallion slowly pushed itself up on its haunches, shaking his head as if to clear it. A moment later, seeing us staring at it, it scrambled backwards and disappeared in a blur down the street. The other horse shifters seemed to be retreating as well. Tonight had not gone in their favor it seemed.

  “Thanks,” I said. “Though I totally had that.”

  Eli just pressed his lips tightly together. He was learning not to argue. Smart man.

  “Your timing was impeccable,” said Riley, back in human form, limping up from behind us.

  A strange look passed over Eli’s face like the fast-moving clouds above us, and his eyes darted to me for the barest of moments. “Yeah, good luck I guess.”

  “We almost got wasted by that stallion,” Quinn said, then paused. “Never thought I’d hear those words coming out of my mouth.”

  We all started to giggle, then all-out laughter took us.

  “Are you guys drunk?” Eli asked incredulously.

  “Well, it’s not like we knew there was going to be a battle right outside the bar,” I retorted.

  Gus walked up. “I’m afraid that’s my fault. Free alcohol. Catching up with old friends.”

  “Why do the horse shifters have such a hate-boner for you guys, anyway?” Riley asked.

  “Well, I was getting around to mentioning this, because the timing is odd,” Gus said, looking over at me and Eli, “But actually one of the horse shifters is missing right now, too. And the horse clan thinks we had something to do with it.”

  “Wait.” Eli raised a hand. “When did the shifter go missing?”

  “A couple days ago,” Gus responded.

  “I wonder if someone is kidnapping supernatural beings... but for what purpose?” I mused out loud.

  Eli’s mouth tightened and his eyebrows knitted together. “This can’t be good.”

  “Well, maybe it is good,” Quinn said. When we all stared at her, she elaborated. “With two or more missing supes, that means more chances to find clues. More trails to follow.”

  I shrugged. “True. In a weird way.”

  “I need a drink,” Riley said, reaching back and rubbing his shoulders.

  “Really?” Eli looked back and forth between the three of us like we were nuts.

  “We’re supernatural bartenders, remember?” I said drily. “We’re practically fish.”

  I thought he would leave again, but after a moment he just shrugged and followed us into the bar. The dragon shifters had all turned back into human form, and they ambled in after us.

  “Drinks on the house!” Gus yelled. An echoing volley of calls rang from the rafters.

  We all sat down at the bar, lined up in a row of beaten, bloody, hunched-over bodies. Behind us a voice rang out. An Irish brogue I’d recognize anywhere, even sitting in a room full of Irish brogues. “What did I miss?”

  I spun in my chair, nearly toppling over. “Donovan! What are you doing here?”

  Donovan walked toward me as a chorus of greetings met him. Even in human form, he was one of those shifters that moved with animal grace and power. The panther in him always sang just under the surface, taut and ready to come out. “You think I’d let my girl visit our homeland without me? Not a chance.”

  He pulled me into a very passionate kiss, as if he might devour me in front of everyone. I would have blushed if I wasn’t over two hundred years old. At a certain point you kinda quit giving a shit about stuff like that. No one was paying attention anymore anyway, they had all gone back to their drinking.

  “Well hello to you, too,” I said when we finally disentangled.

  “It was a bit rude to take off to Ireland without telling me,” Donovan said, pouting a little.

  Honestly, I hadn’t quite gotten used to the idea of me and D dating again. After all that business with Ri, Quinn and the HR getting kidnapped and taken to Faerie, Donovan had dropped the big L word, and things between me and him had been a little… off balance. Plus, I still wasn’t sure I trusted him after what had happened the first time we’d been together. I wanted to believe he wouldn’t stray again, but I wasn’t sure. Plus, I really just wasn’t that into having a boyfriend. My men were temporary and I liked them that way. The less feelings the better. But with Donovan came the past, and with the past came baggage, and with baggage came emotion.

  “Oh, do you need my itinerary, sir?” I raised a brow.

  He ran his hand around my waist and dusted another light kiss over my lips. “No, just surprising to hear my girlfriend left the country from one of Riley’s werepanther friends.”

  “Girlfriend? Since when am I your girlfriend?”

  To my left, I saw Quinn and Riley dart glances in our directions.

  Donovan sighed. “Ye gods, but you’re a stubborn woman.”

  “And that’s what you like about me.” I shot him a challenging look.

  “Yes. You make me work for every breath I take in your presence. I’m a masochist, what can I say?” He laughed, deep and long.

  It was a nice laugh. It affected me in ways I wish it didn’t. Especially since Donovan had been super serious about our second shot at a relationship not being all about sex. We still hadn’t done the deed. After two. Freaking. Months. I wasn’t sure how much more of this “romantic” approach I could take.

  I caught Eli glancing at us from a couple seats away, and apparently D did, too. “Eli!” he called, walking over and thumping the angel on the back. “You know, I just realized something.”

  Eli didn’t scowl as I would have expected after being pounded on the back by a huge shapeshifting panther. He returned D’s smile. Was it just me that got all the frowns? “What’s that?”

  “You and I never had our whiskey drink-off. You know, like we talked about at Zy’s apartment a while back?”

  “True,” Eli said. “Although I’m on a case here, so not sure I’ll be able to now.”

  Riley stepped up on the other side of Eli. “That’s cool. You know I’ll drink both your asses under the table anyhow. It’s smart of you to bow out now.”

  Eli sat up a little straighter. He was preparing to say something real holier-than-thou, I could tell. About how his duty overrode immature drinking challenges. Or how angels were above all that mortal pettiness. He cleared his throat, glancing first at Riley, then Donovan. “Well, maybe a glass or two wouldn’t hurt.”

  My jaw dropped. What? How could this be happening? I could never get that tight-ass to relax on the job.

  Donovan didn’t wait for him to change his mind. He went around the back of the bar like he owned the place and started rifling through Gus’s selection. Finally his fingers settled on a dusty bottle. “Ah, yes. Here’s what we need.”

  “Whatcha got there?” I asked.

  “Anail Dragon—smoked whiskey from the serpent caves on the coast near Mullaghmore. Aged twenty years.” His voice went extra Irish as he lovingly caressed the bottle, and I wanted to rip his clothes off.

  Without further ado, he opened the bottle and poured us each a shot in four clean glasses. I looked around for Quinn, but she was chatting it up with some blue-eyed dragon shifter in the corner. Leave it to Quinn. I returned my focus to the drink and lifted it to my lips.

  “Sip, don’t shoot,” Donovan said. “This is for savoring.”

  I did as he suggested and took a small sip. The liquor burned down my throat, but it was a smooth burn, heated silk. It tasted of campfires and moorlands under a winter sky. I closed my eyes and licked my lips.

  “Wow,” Eli said. “That’s pretty amazing.”

  Riley nodded in agreement.

  The noise of the bar swelled around us, a song of victory and good times. Before long, our glasses
were empty and Donovan poured another round.

  “I guess just one more,” Eli said.

  So it was that two hours and many more drinks later, we declared Riley the drinking champion.

  “It’s not fair, you’re a werewolf,” Eli said, half-slumped over onto the bar. “Ha, werewolf. I’m in Ireland drinking with a werewolf.”

  “Alright, time to get you to bed,” I said. I’d managed to stay mostly sober, since I’d had my fun earlier. “What rooms are we in?” I called to Gus.

  “Three and four,” he responded.

  Eli got off his bar stool unsteadily, and I hooked my arm through his to guide him upstairs. It was a narrow, rickety stairwell. My angel companion stumbled several times, nearly smashing me into the wall at the first landing. “Jesus, watch it!”

  “Jesus isn’t here,” Eli said, followed by a snicker. An actual snicker. Man, was he toasted.

  “Come on, almost there, you lightweight.”

  We reached the second floor and I led Eli to room number four. I fumbled with the door, still trying to hold him steady, and nearly fell through once I got it opened. In the dark, lit only by a thin strip of moon coming in the window, we stumbled toward the bed. Right as we got there, Eli tripped and we went down in a tangle of limbs. Eli landed on top of me, his wings flaring out behind him. Silky strands of his hair fell in my face. I reached up and pushed them behind his ear.

  “Sorry, Zy,” he mumbled.

  Heat rushed through me like comets as his hips pressed into mine. His lean torso hovered over mine, and I could feel the thumping of his heart. I had the sudden urge to wrap my legs around his waist and flip him over. It’d really been WAY too long since I’d had sex… “It’s okay, just get off. You’re crushing me.”

  He clumsily propped himself up on his elbows, grinding back and forth slightly into my hips as he did so, and finally stood up. I shot out from underneath him. Eli promptly keeled back over onto the bed face first.