She nodded, still leaning on Elaya, "I love you too."
They still hadn't had the chance to announce their engagement and Sera wasn't ready just yet. When Amitiel walked up she picked her head up shaking her head, "No Amitiel. We still need you to transport Tatiana and find us camp."
As it was Tatiana had been woken and was shuffling behind Gerry, still handcuffed, with her mouth silenced by Amitiel's magic. It wasn't a fun sight for any of them, and they would rather Amitiel get her to their stop quickly.
"Please. Find camp and wait for us. Narxis can handle his own Amitiel. We have to think of the group...I'm not ready to lose any more of you."
As she left Amitiel to follow his duties she told the rest of them to pick up the pace. They wanted to be at camp by nightfall. Those who wished for an inn could sleep inside the city walls, while the rest of them stayed at camp. Sera knew she would remain near Tatia till the girl was healed, and she had no doubts Elaya would stick by her too. And hopefully, when this matter was settled, the lover's would get a bit more alone time together.
~
“I’m cutting you off kid, you’ve had too much,” the bartender voice was gruff as he wiped the counter in front of Arya, her red eyes turning up to look at him before back down to her empty glass.
“A couple glasses of whiskey can’t get me drunk,” Arya grumbled, her alcohol tolerance being rather high with her metabolism.
“You’ve gone through three bottles and picked three fights so far,” he retorted, “Most don’t get this drunk this early in the day.”
“It’s only…” she looked over at the clock on the wall, “noon. I’m fine. And I got no home.”
“A traveller then. I see,” he asked, pouring her a glass of water which she sniffed and grimaced at, “If you want more whiskey, then drink some water. Not about to have the cops up in my joint because a pretty young traveller wanted to get wasted on her day off.”
“Wish I had a day off,” she mumbled, swigging the water back, “There.”
The bartender sighed and poured her another glass, “So want to tell me why your sitting alone in an underground bar at noon?”
Arya lifted her arm that was cuffed, showing off the shiny dark metal, “Looking for a way out of this thing. Tried all the blacksmiths already.”
He raised an eyebrow, “Is that why your picking fights?”
He nodded over to one of the back tables where three men sit looking annoyed, one holding an ice pack to his jaw. Her eyes followed his, also noticing the fresh blood stain on one of the walls near them where she had knocked another man’s teeth out.
Arya shrugged, returning to her drink.
This bar in particular was one of two in the city that hosted supernaturals. Humans were of course welcome but most didn’t venture in. The second one was a high class joint though, with fancy colorful drinks and appetizers. Not the place where the kind of people Arya was searching for would be. No, this one was more suited, a dive bar with pool tables in the back, and a long bar. The air smelt of blood and scotch, and the walls looked like they had seen a fair many fights. A place where Arya might find a few gruff folk willing to do anything for coin. Like lend a certain weapon to break the cuff she wore. Most didn’t seem too willing.
The only other place Arya knew that was a supernatural hang out point was a small club underneath a clothing store that she had tried once or twice. That would be her next stop, but first she wanted this nasty cuff off, in only to gain her transformation powers back.
The bartender strolled away as Arya nursed her drink, hearing the door opening behind her. Five men stepped up to the counter, ordering drinks before moving to a pool table to start a game. She could smell angel on at least three of them, but by their tattoos and looks they were fallen – just not the deranged kind Narxis had led her to. Narxis. She shook her head sharply, stopping her thoughts then and there. Nope, she wasn’t going to venture down that path. She had left him behind. And if he had half a cell in his brain, he’d know she wasn’t worth the trouble of following.
Getting up she moved to the group, leaning on the table as she sipped at her cup. Now that she was close she could smell that all of them had angel blood, but two of them smelt…different. Nephilims perhaps, or hyrbids.
“Need something pretty lady?” one asked, as they turned to look at her.
One of the fallen growled, catching sight of her vibrant red eyes, “What do you want demon?”
Her eyes were always a giveaway to the divine and infernal. Although most misconstrued her as a demon, it was still close enough. Death hounds eyes were just as red as any demons.
“Never met fallen who keep the company of mortals,” Arya shrugged, “Color me curious.”
“None of us are mortal girl, so watch your tongue,” the closest one to her snapped.
“Guys, ease up,” the first one who spoke to her seemed to be the most relaxed as he spoke again, “Just because she reeks of the infernal, doesn’t make her the enemy.”
“Like hell it does,” one grumbled, “Still hasn’t told us what she wants.”
“A favor,” Arya spoke up, tired of their bickering, “Need one of your there pretty blades to cut this damn thing off.”
She held up her arm in front of her, showing them the cuff, “Got it from a…let’s call him friend. Need the thing off now.”
“That there is one of them devices hell’s elites use,” the man closest to her growled, looking more displeased, “Use it to force the being into a single form so they can’t manifest or flee. That way they can drag them down to hell and do as they like without fear of being killed. Damned things have taken plenty of angels and demons alike down.”
“You get in with the wrong crowd then there girl?”
Arya sighed. This wasn’t going to end well.
“I ain’t helping no sniveling demon bitch, not if she’s on Hell’s bad side,” one of them snapped, dropping his pool cue and draining his drink, “Think it best you leave girl.”
“I have coin,” Arya offered, not too concerned at the sudden hostility.
“Coin won’t help us if one of the prince’s come after us,” the calmest one and obviously most rational spoke, “Sorry lady, but we can’t help ya.”
“Perhaps I’ll just help myself then,” she snarled and reached forward with viper like movements, grabbing at the blade sticking out of the closet man’s waistband. Her fingers wrapped around it as it instantly burned her and she gritted her teeth, but held on if only for a few seconds. Then the guy’s hand came down, hitting her arm so hard she felt the bones crunching, threatening to break. Her hand released, but her other arm came up as her hand whipped forward in a fist and smashed into his face, breaking his nose. The other men were in arm’s instantly, rushing at her at their comrade’s defense.
“I said no more fights!” the bartender yelled, then rushed outside, obviously looking for guards for help. The other patrons fled too, wanting no more of Arya’s nastiness. While they left she was fending off five men all circling her, her body moving at break neck speed, getting a few hits in as well as roundhouse kicking one in the jaw. As he stumbled back and fell on her ass, another came up behind and caught her by the shoulder, yanking her off her feet. All she felt was the air whizzing across her face as suddenly she ws launched, then her back crashed into the wall behind the bar, breaking glass and sending bottles crashing down on her and the floor below. She lay there for seconds, her ears ringing, her heart pounding, and the taste of her own blood in her mouth. She could feel all the cuts all over her body from the glass, and a painful stabbing feeling in her lower right calf. Finally pulling herself up – which cut her hands more – she could see that a sharp shard of glass about a foot long had wedged itself into her leg. Blood was seeping from the wound and when she tried to pull it out the blood back a pool so she stopped, instead breaking the glass off so that it wouldn’t catch on anything and pulling herself to her feet.
“Want more?” one of them snarled, all of them brandishing their blades now, ready to finish the fight. Wiping blood from her mouth off on her sleeve she stumbled around the bar, readying herself for the fight.
“Sure,” she snapped, “Maybe one of you idiots can aim and actually hit the damn cuff.”
They rushed her, and in the minute’s that followed she got one down before two pinned her down to one of the pool table’s and a third looked for some rope. The fourth kicked his dead comrade’s body and glared hatefully at her.
“You little bitch,” he growled, “Oh we are going to make you pay with your life for that one.”
“Too bad I don’t have much of a life,” she snarled, struggling to get up. Her head felt dizzy, the blood loss getting worse. It wouldn’t kill her, but it was indeed making her slower and weaker, which had given them the upper hand.
“No friends huh?” he sneered, breaking a pool cue in half, “No one who loves you?”
“Nope…and well nope,” Arya laughed sarcastically, “No one to miss me. So hurry up and get it over with.”
“Oh no, I’m going to take this nice and slow bitch. You killed my friend.”
He stabbed the broken half of one of the cue’s down into her right hand, so forcibly that it struck into the table and pinned her there. Arya let out a scream before her teeth snapped shut and she swallowed the rest of the pain, glaring at the man.
“And since you have no one, then no one will come to your aid,” he continued, stabbing the other one into left shoulder and making her scream once more, but this time Arya screamed a little longer, as he wrenched and turned it, forcing splinters into her bloodstream.
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