She grinned. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.” She took his glass and filled it up.
Rez released a heavy sigh as he took the cold brew in his hand once more.
Rachel, the owner, had built the Wild Boar to accommodate the shorter trolls who worked pouring drinks. They were waist height at bar level because they moved on a central platform. Very smart.
Wanda was a pretty troll and had been after him for a long time. He was always tempted because he’d heard some stories about her skills in the bedroom. But he had a strict policy about not sleeping where he drank. The Wild Boar was his world.
He finished his second and Wanda refilled.
His cell rang. He recognized the bluesy tone he’d set for his foreman. “Oregis.” The man was a forest gremlin with a gift for administration.
“Are you at that bar again?”
“Of course, I am. Home away from home.”
“Pffft. You should be heading over to the black market. See what’s what. I’ve heard Cruce is bringing in a new shipment.”
Rez ground his teeth and took another swig. He’d hated having Cruce’s name invoked. He was a real bastard, a dealer in human flesh, a mastyr vampire gone bad. Real bad. He brought teenage runaways in from the nearby U.S. access point of Somerville in Massachusetts to sell to the thriving sex trade of Underworld.
Of course, no one could prove he did this since Underworld was a secret, hidden place. He’d never been there himself. Rumor was all any of them had, but it was consistent enough to be believed.
Rez used the black market constantly himself. With the profit from his ruby mine, he paid off a lot of seedy realm-folk night-after-night in hopes of getting word about his daughter. The mine had been passed down to him through the generations. Oregis managed it for him and the steady dig kept him flush with cash. He spent nearly every penny he made trying to locate his daughter.
Two years later, he still didn’t have a lead.
On a normal night, he would head straight to the black market, spend his money, work his contacts. But after battling two bizarre wraith-pairs, his gut told him to stick close to Millerell. He had an uneasy feeling things were going to head down the rathole.
“I’ll be at the Wild Boar for a while. Got a bad feeling.”
Oregis’s thin, high-pitched, forest gremlin voice, hit Rez’s ear. “Oh, goody. I suppose you’ll be needing me, then. But I should warn you, my woman’s headed over here in about an hour and I don’t miss her visits, as you well know.”
Rez’s lips curved. “You don’t need to tell me twice.” Oregis and his forest gremlin clan made the rest of their realm-folk brethren look inadequate when it came to sex. They were an active bunch and didn’t hesitate to bring the subject forward. Often.
Rez put his phone away, but lost his smile. Visions of sitting next to the low wall came back to him, of going blind, failing to breathe, blood flowing between the cobblestones. He felt the scowl form on his face.
Glancing around the room, he noticed several women eyeing him. He’d bedded more than one of them. Sex was just what he needed right now which of course brought his thoughts swerving back to Holly and how much he craved her.
Wanda leaned in, drawing his attention back to her. She wore fresh clothes as well.
She spoke in a low voice. “What’s put the hurricane in your eye, Mastyr? I haven’t seen you this troubled in a long time.”
“I’m pissed, is all.”
“About what? Those wraith-pairs?”
“Everything.”
She leaned back. “I see what it is. Rez, you need to get laid.”
She’d said it exactly right.
Holly’s lustrous hazel eyes took over his mind again. He gritted his teeth. “I’m fine.” He guzzled.
“Yeah, you look fine.” Wanda chuckled. She drew a damp towel from under the counter and went down the bar cleaning up water rings, sloshed drinks, and peanut shells.
She was a good sort, one of the reasons Rez liked being at the bar. She could have pushed him, but that wasn’t her way. His type, usually a bit more beat up by life than the usual customer, didn’t need grilling.
But she was right. He needed to get laid, only no one in the bar, no matter how desirable, would suffice.