Hunter: Cursed

Chapter Nine.

No one paid much attention to our arrival at The Last Drop. Surprisingly a band was setting up on the stage and I can’t remember the last time I saw live music being played here. Usually it was a DJ, set up in the corner just to the left of the curtain or sometimes on quieter nights, just the jukebox. For just on sunset, it was actually busier than I’d expect it to be. Maybe the band were good enough to draw in a crowd?

“Drink?” He asked, letting me go.

I shrugged; one drink wouldn’t hurt. “Sure.”

I followed him out of the staff room and while I went to the guest side of the old wooden bar that was as familiar to me as the Academy was, Cain went for the vodka; soon pouring us both a shot. The demon at the bar gave me a once over as I sat beside him and narrowing my eyes, he didn’t back down.

“What?”

“Forgot you types came here. New management could change the rules.” He snarled; almost demanding it as he turned his gaze on, Leo. How could he just do that changing thing so easily and without me noticing? “Shifter.”

He spat that out like it was a bad thing. Typically I would agree; apart from a small clan miles from here - shifters and werewolves were not anywhere near the top of my list of favourite supernaturals. Cain stood to his full height, the bulk of muscle and beard squaring off against the creature beside me. I casually took down my vodka, wincing from the burn as it hit the back of my throat.

“The rules stay the same.”

“You’re out of your league.” The demon threatened. Stronger than a shifter, but not bold enough to go against a vampire. Interesting. “A few of us are for it.”

This has the promise of getting nasty, as a couple of the figures beside him all join in. They nod, a series of mumbled agreement rising from them. Leo looks like he is one step away from attack mode and while I’ve never been shy around a bar fight, I’d rather not deal with that tonight. If I could get some answers and a drink, I’d be happy. Oh, and to be home in time before anyone knows I’m gone or that I have been out. Any signs of a fight wouldn’t work in my favour.

“What are you?” I interrupt, genuinely curious.

“Demon.” It answers; thick eyebrows bunching together in obvious aggravation. Flaking, rough skin covered the top of his hands, gaining my attention as he clenched his fists. I decide to take the high road, and not piss it off any more than it already was. The urge to tell him about an invention called moisturizer never actually left my mouth.

So instead, I give him a ‘really’ kind of look and motion to Leo for a refill - which I don’t get. “Obviously.”

“Watch yourself, little girl.” He warns.

Leo growled; a reminder of his panther costume that he currently had on. Clearly shifters don’t make good bar help and I don’t hold my breath in regards to fixing the problem of an empty glass..

With a slight flutter of my eyelashes, I instead looked up to the demon and let out a small laugh which only seemed to confuse him.  “You don’t know who I am do you?”

“Hunter.” He says like it’s no big deal. The demon beside him leans over to get a look too, winks at me and takes a long sip of his beer as if to try and impress me. His skin is worse than his buddies, the dryness isn’t just on his hands, but up his exposed arms and all over his face. The dark muscle shirt he has on is covered in tiny white flakes and the vodka isn’t sitting as easy in my stomach as it once was.

“Ten points to you, but I’m the Hunter you should be nicer too.” I try again for a refill.

“Oh?” He turns his focus solely to me now, all of his flakey friends do. “And why is that?”