Chapter 1- Arcane Fate
“Ihate it when guys order Blowjobs.” Carrie sighed dramatically as she slid up to the bar to pick up the order for her rowdy table of frat boys.
They’d already been admonished once to keep their hands off the staff.
“Like… they think asking for a Blowjob means I’m going to take them to the storeroom and suck them off because they’re funny.
” She rolled her eyes and groaned, clearly exasperated.
Wendy’s sleek eyebrows bunched, a dark slash against her pale skin. “Want me to stab them for ya?” she inquired eagerly, grinning at the petite brunette leaning over the bar.
Carrie paused a moment—seriously contemplating it—then sighed wistfully, shaking her head. “Nah, too many witnesses. Plus, like diamonds, felonies are forever.”
Wendy let out a deep belly laugh. Carrie was always good for a quick comeback.
She eyed the table of frat boys watching Carrie bend over and smirked as she caught their attention.
Pulling her dagger from the little sheath in her corset, she slowly ran it over her tongue while she stared them down.
They now watched her with undisguised lust as she stabbed two cherries out of her water glass.
Lifting them to her lips, she licked them sensually before sucking them off the blade.
She winked as she crushed the fruit between her teeth.
The guys swallowed hard and turned back to the table.
Carrie pointed at her friend while her cotton candy pink painted lips quirked as she tried not to laugh. “That… that is why I love you.”
Chuckling, Wendy playfully shook a finger.
“You better! You’ll get a bigger tip. Hopefully they’re too busy debating which one of them is going to swagger over here and get shut down by me, to pinch your ass again.
But if they do.”-she stabbed the dagger forcefully into the dark wood of the bar- “Let me know.”
The grinning waitress took the shots to her table and dropped them off without incident before making her way to her other customers.
Wendy glanced at the clock behind the bar, noting it was 8:50 p.m. The band for the evening should be starting soon.
It was a new one for them, a last-minute change as the band originally slotted for the evening cancelled on short notice.
This replacement group was local and seemed to be drawing a larger than usual crowd.
She reached for a fresh glass then paused, the feeling like someone was watching her skittered over her skin.
A cool sensation, a slight prickle on her neck.
Stretching she thought, probably that new tattoo itch.
She’d sat for it the afternoon before, and the heat in the crowded bar wasn’t helping.
Normally, she wouldn’t have done it right before a night shift, but her co-worker Brad had called in sick and the owner, Mike, begged her to cover.
There was no way the other bartender, Chase, could work this crowd by himself.
Between the new band playing, and the harvest festival in town, they were packed.
“Wendy! Thank you, please marry me!” Chase called over his shoulder as he bustled behind the bar to drop off the cases of beer he was lugging in to restock.
“Sorry Chase, not my type!” She grinned at him.
He was everyone’s type. Stunning, with wavy tousled blond hair, green eyes that lit up when he was happy — which was pretty much always — and a full mouth made for kissing.
He was thoughtful, kind, had rock-hard abs and a fantastic tush.
He was the All-American guy that most girls dreamed of dating.
Not Wendy, other girls.
The good guy vibe wasn’t attractive to her. Not that she liked bad boys either. She was pretty sure she was dead inside, not attracted to anyone.
“You’re killing me babe,” Chase moaned dramatically as he set the beer down and turned to grab more.
He smacked her butt in passing, and she waved her knife at him, growling in mock ferociousness.
Spinning back, he grabbed her waist and pulled her close.
“God it turns me on when you do that, crazy chick.” He kissed her noisily on the cheek and scurried off laughing like a cartoon villain.
Wendy laughed too, shaking her head at his antics.
Chase had asked her out a couple of times, but she kept turning him down.
He finally understood it wasn’t him personally, she just didn’t date.
Anyone. Now he enjoyed teasing her, and she enjoyed it, too.
It made her feel normal. If she wasn’t feeling it, he was great about listening.
He really was a wonderful friend. She sighed; she didn’t understand why she didn’t like him that way, he truly was the perfect guy.
Hearing a lusty sigh echoing her own, Wendy turned. Carrie was back to pick up another order and had witnessed the exchange. Carrie was nuts about Chase, but he didn’t seem to notice her that way.
“I wish he would look at me the way he looks at you. It’s not fair, you don’t even like him like that and he still likes you more. What gives?” the small woman moaned.
Mike, the owner, strolled over then. “Carrie, I pay you to serve tables, not moon over my bartenders. Get your butt out there.” He patted her on the cheek and smiled to show he was joking as she ran off giggling.
The staff all thought Mike was the best boss in the world. He was friendly, easy-going, understanding, and clear in his expectations. The burly affable man was the main reason Wendy loved working at the bar; he looked after them all.
“Wendy, you’re a life saver and I adore you. But… no stabbing anyone tonight, okay?” Mike told her, warily eyeing the dagger in her hand.
Smothering a groan, Wendy sheathed it and muttered, “It was one time, and he totally had it coming.” As Mike shook his head, she added, “Even the police agreed with me!”
Three months prior, a particularly rowdy man didn’t like that Wendy cut him off when it was obvious he’d had too much to drink.
The man’s friends tried to get him to leave but he became belligerent and broke a beer bottle on the bar then tried to cut her with it.
Wendy had stabbed the man through the hand with one of the knives she always carried, pinning him to the bartop.
The police weren’t too happy with her at first, but after watching the security video, and taking statements, they agreed she had cause.
Nodding, Mike huffed, “Yeah, but man the lawyers had a field day with that one. And the news stories.” He shook his head ruefully.
Wendy grinned and pinched his cheek. “Oh, come on you grumpy bear, that got this place so much free advertising, our tips tripled! Hey, if business slows down let me know, and I’ll stab someone else!”
He just snorted and shook his head, holding the bar pass-through open for Chase as he came back with another few cases.
“Mike,” Chase called, “there’s a guy out back with a delivery. Some special vodka you ordered?”
Mike nodded his thanks and hurried off. The house lights went down then, and a drummer began tapping out a few rhythms to check his set up. The band for the evening was about to begin.
“Hey, Chase,” Wendy shouted over the surge of cheering. “Who’s the band tonight? Some new group for us I heard?”
He nodded as he unloaded the bottles into the back of the fridge. “Yeah, some metal band.” He paused and stared at her with his brows scrunched. “Good Kitty, I think? Or was that last night’s band? Umm. Crap. I can’t remember.”
“Arcane Fate.”
The two words trickled into her ear from a voice made of velvet and smoke.
Wendy felt that prickling sensation crawling over her neck again, like a gentle caress.
She turned to see a man leaning against the counter, in the darkest part of the shadows.
One hand rested on the bar, lightly tapping a guitar pick on the lacquered, scarred surface, a small tattoo of some kind on his wrist.
She moved slowly toward him, drawn by unseen forces.
Staring, she tried to make out his features in the low light and smoky air.
He had silky jet-black hair, long, down to his shoulder on one side, shorter and spiky on the other.
He was tall and lean, but very muscular.
She couldn’t tell what color his eyes were, but his lips were full and pulled into a sensual smile.
Several silver rings glinted in his ears, his nose, and lower lip.
The thin, slender hoops were barely visible in the haze surrounding him.
She could just make out the edges of more tattoos peeking out from his shirt sleeves.
“Arcane Fate?” she repeated breathlessly as the drummer began to run a few longer riffs to warm up and heavy bass notes joined the beat. The crowd was cheering even louder now as the show became imminent.
The man holding her hostage with his gaze nodded once.
“That’s the name of the band, Arcane Fate.
” He shrugged then leaned in and she could now see his eyes were green like Chase’s, but softer, with dark secrets in their jade depths instead of shining emerald innocence.
Those eyes spoke of desires to be explored and sins to be committed.
“If I asked you for a whiskey neat, would you stick me with that little steel of yours?”
Her mouth went as dry as the desert, and she shook her head slowly side to side.
He arched one eyebrow and her heart fluttered at how his lips curved into a wicked pout before he murmured, “That’s too bad.”
Swallowing hard, she smiled back before whirling to pour the drink.
Shivering slightly, she pulled in a deep breath through her nose as the force of the man’s gaze released her.
She noticed Chase was watching her with a perplexed expression.
She gave him a questioning shrug in return and mouthed what?
Chase waggled his eyebrows suggestively then made a kissy face at her. She glared at him, a silent promise to kill him later and turned back to the dark man with his drink.
His fingers brushed hers as he picked it up and their eyes locked. He seemed surprised and cocked his head to the side. “I have to go up there. I’ll be back. Start a tab for me?”
She nodded and he turned to make his way to the stage, but she realized she didn’t know anything about him. “Wait!” Wendy called, her voice shaking with something she didn’t understand. “I… I need your name. For the tab.”
Those lips curved again before they parted on a single word. “Damien.”