Chapter 23
TONY
The village was impossibly dark.
Tony stood on the pathway outside Kaia and William's house, staring into the blackness and wondering how he was going to find Shira's place.
There were no streetlights, no porch lights, and all the windows were shuttered tight so not a sliver of light escaped to guide his way. Normally, the moon would have been enough to see by, but it was cloudy tonight, and the moon was hidden.
He pulled out his phone and activated the flashlight, sweeping the beam across the path ahead. The village map application showed Shira's house as a little blue dot, and him as a red dot, guiding him along the village paths.
He'd barely made it fifty feet when a figure materialized out of the darkness, making him jump.
"You shouldn't do that," the immortal said, his face briefly illuminated by Tony's phone light.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, with the kind of disapproving expression that suggested he took rule-following very seriously.
"It's against the rules to have visible light outside after dark in the village. "
"Sorry," Tony said automatically. "I'm human. I can't see in the dark."
"Then you should have arranged for an escort." The immortal shook his head. "I would have escorted you, but I'm already running late."
The guy continued on his way, disappearing around a bend in the path with the sure-footed confidence of someone who could see perfectly well in the darkness.
Tony waited until the footsteps faded and activated his flashlight again.
Rules were all well and good, but he wasn't about to stumble around in pitch blackness and arrive at Shira's door with a twisted ankle. He kept the beam low, pointed at the ground just ahead of his feet, and walked as briskly as he dared.
The map guided him through the maze of pathways, past darkened houses and silent gardens, until he finally reached the house with the number flashing on the map.
He rang the bell, and as the door opened, Tony forgot how to breathe.
Shira stood in the doorway wearing low-slung jeans and a cropped sweater that exposed a strip of pale midriff. Her red curls tumbled around her shoulders in artful disarray, and her green eyes sparkled with the same mirth he'd become infatuated with during the party.
She was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen, and so different from what he'd been used to in the harem that for a moment, he wasn't sure that entire episode hadn't been a bad dream.
The ladies in their silk gowns, the servants in their uniforms, the antiquated customs, it all felt like something from another lifetime. Another world.
Shira represented his new reality.
"Hi," he said, his eyes glued to her exposed midriff.
"Hi yourself." Shira stepped outside, quickly pulling the door closed behind her so the light from the interior wouldn't spill out. "How is your alcohol tolerance?"
"It's okay, I guess." He activated his flashlight again, pointing it at the path ahead. "Why?"
Shira immediately swatted at his hand. "Put that away! Are you trying to get us in trouble?"
"I can't see in the dark," Tony protested. "I'm human, remember? Or mostly human. The jury's still out on that one."
"Well, mostly-human Tony, you're going to have to trust me." She threaded her arm through his, pressing close to his side. "I'll be your guide. Just follow my lead and try not to trip over anything."
Her warmth seeped through his jacket sleeve, and Tony decided that maybe the darkness wasn't so bad after all.
"Why did you ask me about my alcohol tolerance?"
She lifted her face to him with a mischievous smile. "Immortals can drink a lot and not get drunk, so don't get into any drinking competitions. You'll lose."
"I have no intentions of competing with anyone. One beer is my usual limit."
She chuckled. "Cheap date. I like it."
His ears caught fire as the implications sank in, and he was grateful for the darkness until he remembered that she could see perfectly fine.
He had no money, and he didn't know whether the card he'd been given for the vending machines in the café also worked in the bar. He was already working, but he hadn't discussed getting paid with anyone.
"What's the matter?" Shira asked. "You suddenly look like you've swallowed a frog."
"Does the bar take the card that works on the vending machines in the café?"
"Nope, but don't worry about it. Tonight is on me. You can pay the next time."
Well, at least she was thinking about another date, so that was good. "I have a job, but I'm not getting paid. At least I don't know if I am. No one has explained things to me yet."
"Poor baby. They are probably waiting for your identification papers to be ready. Once that's in place, they can set up an account for you with your own credit card and everything. Your salary will go straight to your bank account."
"That sounds so normal," he murmured. "I'd forgotten how the modern world functions. Living on the island was like living inside a fantasy book. A dark fantasy."
"What was your job there?" Shira asked.
He'd been under the impression that everyone in the village knew that. "I was a stud. I was supposed to contribute intelligent sperm so Navuh would have smart sons."
To his surprise, she laughed. "A harem stud. How progressive. I wouldn't have expected that from Navuh. Did the ladies pass you around?"
"No. Tula demanded exclusivity, and they honored her wishes."
She turned to look at him, and he was stunned to see a glow in her eyes. Was she thinking naughty thoughts about him? Had the harem stud comment given her ideas?
He smiled. "You are a naughty lady, Shira, aren't you?"
"You have no idea." She snorted and continued walking.
What had she meant by that? Was she into kinky stuff?
He could go for some kink, but nothing overly adventurous. Was that why Tula had found him boring after a while?
"Here we are." Shira stopped in front of what appeared to be a small hill, but as Tony's eyes adjusted, he could make out the outline of a round door set into the earth.
A hobbit hole.
An actual hobbit hole, complete with a circular frame and hand-carved decorations around the edges.
"This is incredible," he said.
"Wait until you see the inside."
There was no light coming from the structure, but there was plenty of noise. Laughter and conversation and the clink of glasses spilled out, muffled by the thick earthen walls but unmistakably boisterous.
The place sounded packed.
As Tony reached for the round door handle and pulled it open, the crowd erupted in cheers and applause.
For one disorienting moment, Tony thought the ovation was for him, some kind of welcome for the new guy, and he felt his face flush with embarrassment.
But then he realized that no one was looking at him or at Shira.
Every eye in the place was fixed on the bar, where Fenella stood taking an elaborate bow, a keychain dangling from her raised hand.
She must have just finished a performance. Tony let out a relieved breath.
The interior of the Hobbit was everything the exterior had promised.
Low ceilings supported by exposed wooden beams, walls curved like the inside of a barrel, cozy nooks and alcoves filled with mismatched furniture.
Lanterns hung from hooks, casting warm golden light over the crowd of immortals who packed every available space.
"What did I miss?" Tony asked as Shira tugged him forward.
"Fenella must have just finished her pretend reading." Shira grinned. “She's incredibly entertaining."
"Is that why the place is so packed?"
"Yes, but it's also the only bar in the village, and immortals like to drink." Shira scanned the room. "No place to sit. We'll have to stand until someone leaves."
"I don't mind standing."
They squeezed through the crowd until they found a spot with a decent view of the bar.
The atmosphere was infectious, warm, rowdy, and welcoming in a way that Tony had never experienced before, not even before the harem.
The few bars he'd been to were nothing like this happy place where people were clearly enjoying themselves, surrounded by friends.
Just drinks and laughter and the simple pleasure of community.
A white-haired man who looked like an army sergeant somehow navigated the packed room with a huge tray of drinks balanced on one hand.
"Good evening, folks," he said. "What can I get you?"
"Just a beer for me," Tony said. "I don't care which brand."
The guy raised a white eyebrow. "Not much of a drinker, are you?"
"Atzil, this is Tony," Shira said. "He's new, and he's human, so don't expect him to drink a barrel. Tony, this is Atzil. He runs the place."
"Welcome to the Hobbit." Atzil balanced his tray on one hand and offered him the other. "First drink is on the house." He turned to Shira. "What will you have?"
"My usual."
Atzil nodded and disappeared back into the crowd with enviable agility.
"He seems like a nice guy," Tony observed. "Given the way he looks, I expected him to shout at me to drop and give him twenty."
Shira laughed. "I know, right? He looks like such a military dude, but he's actually a cook. He works for Kalugal."
That was a name he knew. Kalugal was Areana's son and a former Doomer, which meant that Atzil used to be a member of the Brotherhood.
Suddenly, he didn't seem so nice anymore.
"All right, all right, settle down!" Fenella called out.
She was still behind the bar, but she'd climbed onto something, a stool perhaps, or maybe a crate. "Who's next? Who wants to know what their possessions have been saying behind their backs?"
Shira nudged Tony's ribs. "You should volunteer."
"Absolutely not."
"Come on, it'll be fun!"
Thankfully, someone else was already pushing forward, a tall man with dark hair and the kind of muscular build that screamed 'soldier.' He held up a pen, waving it like a trophy.
"Rodney!" someone in the crowd shouted, and the others picked up the chant. "Rodney! Rodney! Rodney!"