Page 11 of The Satyr's Guilt
Denim pushed between the spiky-haired blondand the youth with a nose piercing along with other penetratingslivers of metal. “Wow! We are glad to see you boys. Mom wants youto come home to do your chores.”
“Busted.” The blond eagle-eyed Denim andGalena’s tight jeans and snug T-shirt. “How about we hang with youtwo hotties?”
“We’d burn you, baby.” Galena chuckled,flipping her black hair away from her face. “Are you comingwillingly or are we dropping you right here in front of theseshit-faced chicks? And just in case you’re thinking about doing the100-meter dash on us, I know your parents, Rode.” She spoke to theheavily pierced vampire youth.
The four males bobbed their heads at thedrunk chicks, muttered their goodbyes, and walked out of the barwith their embarrassed gazes on the booze-stained floor.
The group proceeded to a quiet side streetwhere Galena led them into a private parking garage. She opened aportal. Before they transported back to Scath, the blond kid spuntoward Denim to pass off his phone. “Punch in your number. I’llcall you sometime.”
She waved it away. “In your dreams,cher. Now don’t get any ideas about coming back. We’repatrolling the Quarter all night.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing, baby.”The young vampire Lothario shrugged when he stepped through thegateway behind his friends.
Denim checked her cell while Galena tappedthe D-chip embedded in her wrist. “Any more reports of hornycrossovers?”
“None at my end. How about you?”
“Nope,” said Denim. “Let’s indulge in aHurricane at Pat O’Brien’s until the next jackasses pop up. Afterwhich, it’ll be quitting time anyway.”
“Count me in.”
They maneuvered through the streets moreslowly this time, still pushing and shoving to make progress whilethey headed for the famous New Orleans attraction, the home of apopular libation.
Inside, they muscled their way alongside acouple seated at the bar. While they waited to order, the womantwisted her head around, smiled, and shouted in Denim’s ear. “We’releaving. Heading for the next joint. You want our seats?”
“Do we ever.Mersi,” Denim yelledabove the noise.
Settled into two lucky stools, they wavedoff a guy who offered to buy their Hurricanes.
“What’ll it be, ladies?” The bartenderswiped a rag along the counter.
“Two of your tourist traps,cher,”replied Denim.
When he returned with the drinks, Galenatook a sip of the bright red alcohol-heavy treat in a tall glass.“Yum. No wonder everybody wants one of these.”
When a hand brushed against Denim’s arm, sheswiveled in her stool, prepared to tell some flirt to buzz off.Instead, her face turned ashen. Her mouth dropped open. She poppedoff her seat to challenge the intruder. “You’re supposed to stayfive hundred feet away from me, Steven. This is a hell of a lotcloser than the order demands.”
“You’re my wife. Some court order isn’tgonna tell me how close I can get.”
He latched onto the bar but swayed, nearlystumbling. Steven had been a different guy years ago. Handsome.Fun-loving but sober. Concerned with his appearance. Considerate.The Steven in front of her in Pat O’Brien’s was wearing wrinkleddirty cargo pants, a stained button-down, a ragged jacket. Stragglyblond hair stuck out under a tattered Houston Astros cap. This guywas on a long bender. Of course, this was Steven’s standard MO atthe end of their relationship.
“Maybe the court order won’t work, but Ithought I gave you plenty of incentive to get lost and stay there.Do you want another visit from me?” Denim’s eyes narrowed into aglare.
Galena slid off her stool. She reached toher hip, where she kept a holstered knife under her T-shirt.
With her attention never wavering fromSteven, Denim spoke to her partner. “This is my wife-beatingalcoholic ex-husband. E-X,” she shouted over the bar din. “TheAlliance fired him, I bitch-slapped him, and the court served himwith an order to stay far away from me.”
Galena topped Steven’s five-eleven as shelooked down her nose at him. “It’s time you go poof, buddy.”
“Yeah? Look, you cu…”
Before he could finish his statement, Galenatapped his crotch with her blade. “You might want to rethink whatyou’re about to say. I get this nervous spasm in my hand. When Ido, my knife slips.”
Denim’s lips curled into a grin. She nodded.“Remember the guy the other night? You almost took off one of hisballs. I felt sorry for him.”
“Geez, girlfriend. I was real sorry aboutthat. Why’d you have to bring it up again?”
Steven backed away, snarling. “I’m just hereto have a good time with my guys.” He pointed to the other side ofthe bar where two muscle-laden losers glared in their direction.“Just wanted to say hey to my wife.” His gaze flipped from Galenato Denim before he nodded, spinning on his heel, staggeringaway.
