Double Take, A.J. Cole [i want to read a book .txt] 📗

You’re right. I should give it to my father.” He leaned closer and gave her a quick kiss, took the notebook, and went through the door a second before it got shut by the man holding Dusty’s feet.

Ticking. A huge clock hung over the back wall of the bar over the mirror behind the shelves of liquor bottles. During the crowded times, the sound was inaudible over all the loud music and shouting. Arissa drummed her fingernails on the bar in rhythm with the drowsy tick-tock. How nice…

The front door opened again, but this time, “open” was an understatement. Banged-open-so-hard-it-nearly-fell-off-its-hinges was more accurate. Four figures entered, none of them appearing in any way pleasant or friendly as far as Arissa could see. She finished her drink and stood.

The closest thug-like individual gave her a quick up-and-down. “Out of the way. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Meaning what – that you’ll run me over if I don’t move? I’m not even in your way.” By this time, Arissa had become dangerous in her own right, what with Vlad's instructions in self-defense, her supernatural speed, and the knowledge that it would take more than a punch in the nose to send her into eternity.

“Bold little princess, ain’t she!” The one who said this had a thick cockney accent – or what Arissa interpreted as such – and reminded her a little bit of the actor who played the CG-enhanced version of Beowulf.

“I’m right here, you know.” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Right! So you are. Where’s the little magic man?”

“Gandalf?”

One of the other two uttered a short laugh that he turned into a cough when the front-man turned toward him. Arissa couldn’t see his face, but suspected he was glaring. And then he turned back. He was glaring, but now it was aimed at her, and for the first time she detected something that glowed red behind the pupils in eyes that looked too green to be natural. Great.

“I hate bitches who think they’re smart.” He took a step closer, fist raised.

In a flash, Arissa was behind him and pushed him toward the bar. Had the stools not been there, he might have been fine, but, well, they were. Getting tangled up in barstools is not the most dignified thing a person could do, and by the time he’d extricated himself, the others had turned on Arissa and cornered her near one of the booths.

“Kick her stupid ass!” the man snarled, tossing away the last of the stools.

“My ass is no more stupid than I am, thank you.” She smiled, her hand closing on one of the pre-rolled flatware bundles that had been set out on the tables for the evening’s patrons. Knife or fork…hmmm. Spoon? Nah. Fork. Jumping up on the seat, she kicked the first man who tried to grab her, the toe of her shoe making contact with the underside of his chin. Head snapping back, he tottered into the man behind him, was pushed aside to the ground, and now that one lunged.

The fork turned out to be more effective than she’d expected, and more than she’d been prepared to deal with. She’d forgotten that in addition to having extraordinary speed, she was also much stronger than a normal human. As the tines sank into the man’s throat, blood spurted out of his mouth and splattered the front of her shirt.

Arissa, despite feeling like she wanted to vomit, was assaulted by the memory of her mother holding up her other bloody shirt and pointing out how difficult it was to remove bloodstains. Amazing. Even during a crisis, her mother managed to intrude.

“Okay, now you’re gonna die.” The cockney-accented individual pulled out a knife as He-Who-Falls-Into-Barstools grew a set of talons.

Talons… what? This was a new one. Before anything else could happen, however, the door to the back room opened and Finn, hands in his pockets, sauntered out, smiling.

Arissa boggled.

“Afternoon, gentlemen.” His sudden Irish accent at its most lilting, he added, “Is there a problem? You wouldn’t be thinking of harming my lovely girlfriend, now, would you?”

Awww…

“That bitch is getting in my way,” Barstool-Man replied, glowing eyes narrow.

Finn stared at the man’s hands and shook his head. “Put those away, Wills. You know better than to do that in here.”

“But look at what she did to Convers!” He pointed a talon at the man on the floor, who was clutching his throat with blood-slicked hands.

Finn turned to Arissa. “Did you do that?”

“I… yes. Yes, I did. I did that.” She shuddered.

Finn’s smile went crooked. “Good girl.”

“We want the sorcerer!” This from the one with the accent.

“Who? And I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“What? Who cares? Hand over the sorcerer or you’ll wish you’d never been born!”

Finn sat in the booth and crossed his legs. “You say that like I have him hidden in a pocket or something.”

The man who Arissa now knew as Wills looked at his still-standing comrades, back at Finn, and then at Arissa. His claws retracted and his eyes stopped glowing. “I don’t want to lose another man. Merriman, help Convers up and get him to the car. I have some bandages in the trunk.”

So the man Arissa had kicked in the chin was Merriman, and the one she’d forked was Convers. She still didn’t know the other one’s name, nor did she want to know. At least her victim hadn’t died – yet. She shuddered again.

And now the un-named thug was coming at Finn. “I don’t know who the hell you are and I don’t care! We have a job to do and – ”

Finn raised a hand and wannabe Beowulf turned purple, eyes going huge. A second later he was on the floor, hands to his throat, no sounds of breathing coming from his gaping mouth.

“For god sakes, Finn, don’t kill him!” Wills went to a knee beside his stricken accomplice.

“Fine.” Finn lowered his hand to the table and the man’s face returned to something closer to a normal color, his long intake of breath raspy.

“Who… what is he?”

“Fae.”

“Shit.” The expletive came out as a hoarse whisper as the man sat up, eyes watering.

Wills stood. “Look, we just want the sorcerer. He stole something and we’ve been hired to get it back.”

“Then why do you need him, too?” Arissa felt like she was getting an education, but wasn’t sure on what topic.

“He has to pay for his crime, you… er, miss.”

Astounded at the power Finn had over these men, especially since one of them seemed to be every bit as supernatural as he and Arissa, she nodded but didn’t like Wills’ answer. “Why does that sound like his payment will be some kind of slow, awful death?”

Wills grinned, shocking her. “Guess maybe you are smart. That’s exactly what’s awaiting him.”

“Did you know he’s also my good friend?” Getting to his feet, Finn looked down at Wills, his smile nowhere to be seen. “Tell whoever sent you that the sorcerer is under my protection. I’ll see to it that if what was taken wasn’t something that would harm anyone else, it will be returned immediately. Now, please get out of my bar.” He took a step closer.

“You may be kicking over a hornet’s nest, Finn.”

“Maybe, but I’m not allergic to stings of any kind.” He put an arm around Arissa’s shoulders. “Good day to you.”

The other man had gotten to his hands and knees and shuffled back toward the still open front door. At Finn’s dismissal, he stood and shot outside, followed a moment later by Wills.

“Well that was stimulating,” Arissa muttered.

“Not as stimulating as you.” Finn slid is arm away, took her by the shoulders, and pulled her into a deep, passionate kiss that had her knees turning to water.

“Aw, get a room, you two.” Mr. Murphy had joined them, if the presence of his voice was any indication, but Arissa didn’t care. In fact, she was this close to tearing off Finn’s shirt…

Finn pulled away, leaving her devastated. Could almost committing murder be some kind of weird aphrodisiac? She swallowed, took a deep breath, and cleared her throat. “Hello, Mr. Murphy. Um, sorry.”

“Never mind. Who is going to mop up all that blood?” He pointed at the floor near her left foot.

“Oh. Yeah, that’s my fault. I’ll do it – you have a mop I can use? Or I could grab a passing vampire.”

“Heavens, boy, what did she do? Has she made her first kill?”

“Almost.” Finn frowned. “Arissa, are you really okay?”

“Probably not. But I suppose I need to get used to stuff like this, right?” The thought of more violence on that level was not a happy one.

Finn took her by the shoulders again, but this time stared down into her eyes. “No, Arissa, you don’t. No one should ever get used to it, and I won’t have you thinking it’s in any way expected or normal.”

She nodded. “I appreciate that. I… I just didn’t know what else to do. I really thought they were going to tear my head off or something. So I grabbed a fork and – hey! Why did you say ‘good girl’ when I told you I’d hurt that guy?”

“Because I was proud of you. Your fortitude and quick thinking surprised me. But that doesn’t mean I want you to ever have to do something like that again.”

“Yeah, no. I don’t either.”

“Good.” Another quick kiss, and he began to turn away.

“Wait.”

A raised eyebrow.

“What was that guy, er, Wills, was it? I mean, his eyes… ”

“A Leshy.”

“Er, not in my vocabulary yet. Want to enlighten me?”

Mr. Murphy groaned. “Finn, give her the short version. I have things to do, so if you two will excuse me?” Leaning over the bar, he grabbed a bottle of something clear and left them.

“Have a seat, my love, and I’ll tell you about the Leshy.”

Picking up the scattered barstools, she set them back in their places and sat. “You have my attention, scary man.”

“Scary?”

“Yeah, scary. I never saw you do that Darth Vader thing before.”

Finn frowned for a second. “Ah. Okay, you mean the choking bit.”

“That’s the one.”

“I’d never do that to you, you know.”

“I would hope not! I just didn’t realize you had that kind of ability.”

He nodded and sat next to her. “Well. The Leshy.”

“Yes. The Leshy knows, the safer she’ll be!” A short burst of crazy laughter. “Sorry. Go on.”

“Hmm. Right. Okay. Leshies are male woodland spirits from Slovenia. According to their mythology, the Leshy is supposed to protect their forest lands and the wild animals that live there.”

“You say that like that’s not really what they do.”

“Good observation. I think at one point they did do stuff like that, but the modern world changed them. One or two probably ventured out into society and decided to change their vocation to something profitable. They’re shapeshifters, too.”

She gave a momentary though to Vlad’s explanation of shapeshifters. “Oh, great.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that they aren’t always nice. In fact, they usually aren’t. Most of them, anyway.”

“True. These, as you’ve just seen, often appear as tall men – completely normal, except that in human form, their eyes glow. And without a squirrel or two to guard, their abilities run more toward mischievousness and even less pleasant behaviors.”

“Why was he so afraid of you?”

“That, I’m afraid, is a much longer story, and one of these days I’ll fill you in. For now, though, all you have to remember about Wills is that he also has the ability to change size and shapeshift into any form, animal or plant, shrinking or growing accordingly.”

“Oh, great! So he could disguised himself as a rose in a bouquet or something, and I’d never know it!”

“Yup. Pretty much. The good news is, if you do happen to recognize that the rose you’re looking at is actually Wills before he realizes you figured out his disguise, you can hurt or kill him the way you would a flower.”

Arissa had a sudden mental image of herself regarding every plant with deep suspicion, an activity that would probably get her institutionalized. And then