Sin & Chocolate (Demigod of San Francisco 1)

“Okay, Frank,” I said once we reached the bar on the outskirts of the neighborhood. I was somewhat winded. It had been a fast walk that had seemed significantly faster with Frank’s chatter. “Time for business.”

“Okay.” Frank looked around. “Do you know how to get home?”

“Yes.” I pulled open the door, greeted by the low light and stale aroma of sick and alcohol. A roar of laughter rolled out of the back by the pool table, from a crowd of people keeping to themselves. I marched up behind the row of patrons sitting at the bar, my eyes on Cindy the bartender. If felt like the heavens had opened up and sung.

I’d forgotten all about her! She was a huge gossip. If anyone knew anything about that handsome stranger, it would be her.

As I rounded the soft corner at the other side of the bar, aiming for my seat, a large back greeted me. A jet-black head of wind-swept hair turned a fraction. The owner had clearly seen me walk in and now monitored my progress.

The stranger, and he’d been expecting me.

A wave of adrenaline dumped into my middle. I stutter-stopped—or maybe jumped and staggered, I couldn’t be sure—before stalking forward again and stopping behind my chair. And it was my chair, too. He hadn’t stolen it. He’d stolen the one next to it, on the non-Mick side.

“Good. I’m glad you’re here. I have a bone to pick with you,” I said to the stranger in a thick, hopefully scary voice.

25

Alexis

“I figured. Sit.” The stalking stranger gestured at my chair as though he owned it.

Best to establish independence in this situation, or he might think he’d gained the dominant position.

“I’d planned on it.” I pulled out my seat so I could slide in without brushing my front against his large, powerful arm. “What’s up, Mick?” I said to the ever-present moody regular.

Mick grunted. “Not a lot has happened since you left. I’m just keepin’ on top of it,” he said dryly, his thick Irish accent made thicker with heavy drinking.

Half a beer and a mostly gone tumbler of whiskey sat in front of him. He was on his way toward getting sloppy, sleeping-at-the-bar drunk. Once he started the whiskey, he wouldn’t stop until he’d thrown a barstool and been kicked out, or landed on his face somewhere.

I scooted in as Cindy bustled down the bar, a smile on her face and lipstick on her teeth. Her dyed red hair didn’t dare let the gray creep into her part. “Hiya, love, what can I get ye?”

“Guinness, please.”

“I got that,” the stranger said, lifting his finger.

“No.” I held out my hand, hoping he understood the next phrase. “I’m on my own.” I didn’t want him to buy me a drink for obvious reasons, but also because bar etiquette said I would then owe him a beer in return. Doubly bad news.

“You’d piss away your hard-earned money at the bar?” the stranger asked disapprovingly. “Let me buy you a drink.”

“Give me a break, Mr. I Know Everything but a Bunch of Important Details. I’m sure you’re entirely aware that the owner of this place pays for my drinks. Everyone knows it.”

“Does he, fuck!” Mick jerked and looked over at the same time. That had been his way of asking a question.

Apparently, everyone but Mick.

“I would ask if that bothered you, given the owner is your ex, but…” The stranger let the sentence hang.

“But you’ve already ascertained that my pride isn’t affected?”

He didn’t respond, and I didn’t really care what he had to say for himself anyway.

“Listen,” I said, putting my hand on the bar between us. “What the fuck?”

“Yes!” Mick clenched his fist and shook it in the air. He loved random acts of swearing and violence.

The stranger’s eyes glittered. “I’ll need more details,” he said, but I knew he was full of crap. He knew exactly what I was talking about.

I played along anyway. “First, what is your damn name? You know all about me, and all I know is that you are a meddling, stalking, aggravating asshole.”

Mick slammed the bar top. “Big, slopey-shouldered bastard,” he barked out.

“That you haven’t already heard my name is telling,” the stranger said cryptically.

“Yes, it is clear you are very important,” I said. “Well done. Speaking of, where is your entourage tonight?”

“I do not require their assistance just now.”

“Uh-huh. Formal answer.” I adjusted my seat, more for appearances than an actual need to get comfortable. Mick continued to mutter away to himself in the background. “Your name?”

“Why are you here, Alexis?”

The stranger wrongly assumed that his name would be enough information to clue me in. Little did he know that I didn’t know anything about the magical hierarchy because I tried to avoid the whole governing body like the plague. Something that would be increasingly difficult if he kept sticking his big nose in and forcing me to visit the headquarters.

“Right. Fine,” I said, letting it go. “Listen, you saw Mordecai the other night, right? That sick kid for whom you bought the blanket?”

“I still haven’t gotten that blanket back. Does that mean you’re intent on keeping it?”

“Really? Now you’re worried about getting the blanket back?” I couldn’t help but smile. “Cold at night, huh?”

Fire lit his eyes. “Yes. I’ve denied anyone else the pleasure of my bed. I’m waiting for you.”

I nodded in a businesslike fashion. “I’ll make sure to get you that blanket as soon as possible. You’ll need it while waiting for hell to freeze over.”

A smile played on his lips.

“Anyway,” I went on. “Earlier this week, he was coughing blood. He was barely hanging on. We got lucky and found him some medicine, but it was a close call.”

His smile melted away and the glimmer in his eyes turned somber. Thankfully, he was at least taking this seriously.

“As you’ve noticed”—putting the stranger’s name there would’ve really helped with a personal touch—“we don’t have a lot of money. Nearly none, actually. He usually suffers a week out of a month. Suffers like you couldn’t possibly imagine.” My eyes stung, and I cursed my constant fear/sorrow/heartache for my inability to cure Mordecai. Talking about his struggles always jacked my emotions. “He can barely move around the house sometimes. Right now we’re riding high on medicine, so he’s in decent condition. Last night, you saw him at his best.” I paused so my words would resonate. “That was his best. Ponder that for a moment. He had a cheap, thin turquoise blanket wrapped around him in public, a beanie covering a head to hide the patches of hair that have fallen out, he’s thin as a rake… I mean, need I go on? That was him at his best.”

I paused again as my Guinness arrived. Cindy beamed at the stranger and leaned against the counter. “Now. How’s it goin’? Are ye well?”

Mick leaned more heavily against the bar, his expression deadpan. “Wonderful. Great. Time of our lives.”

Cindy wasn’t fazed. “Have you heard about Shamus hanging around with that younger girl?” Her eyes widened. “He’s nearly double her age.”

“I’d say he’s got a good supply of Viagra,” Mick said, then burped. “He’s got the whole town nervous.”

Chuckles bubbled up through my middle, laughter never far away when Mick was in one of these moods. But this wasn’t the time. I needed Cindy to find something else to do so I could finish my business with the stranger.

I elbowed Mick.

“Would ye fuck off?” he roared.

Cindy startled, having no idea he was actually talking to me, before pursing her lips and heading to the other end of the bar to tend to the only other live patron. If only the dead actually drank, she’d have plenty to do.

“Effective,” the stranger murmured.

“You shouldn’t try it,” I said. “He’ll throw a punch if a guy messes with him. He’ll likely miss and fall out of his chair, but he’ll still throw it.” I batted at the hair clinging to my face. The smell of detergent, sweetness, and salty sea wafted toward me. The stranger had clearly inherited a little something from his mother.

I remembered the wave of sexy magic he’d hit me with earlier in the week.

Maybe a whole lotta something.

“I saw your ward. What is your point, Alexis?” the stranger asked.

“My point is, if you demand that he go in and get tested, his pack will know he’s still alive. They’ll be intimidated by the threat he could be if he were healthy. The alpha will want to kill him, and in a couple years, when Mordecai is of age, the alpha will legally be able to challenge him, regardless of which zone he lives in.”

“It seems you didn’t read the summons very closely.”

I hesitated in reaching for my drink, my eyebrows nearly at my hairline. The scant few words I’d read tumbled through my memory. I distinctly remembered reading that I was being called in for testing, and farther down the page, I’d definitely seen Mordecai’s name. I said as much.