"Another round for the boys, Davina!" Clark, a regular at the tavern yelled sloppily across the wooden, beer-stained bar. His heavy mug sloshed, spilling foam onto his fingers and he laughed. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the boyish behavior of the large warrior before me.
I didn't know Clark on a personal level, but enough to know his order and some personal details he's drunkenly confessed on nights he does not recall.
"You sure you need another round?" I teased, glancing at the large table in the back right of the building. Men fell over one another in laughter, slapping shoulders and banging fists on the oak wood table. I was hesitant to give the men another round of the cheap beers, but they had gotten to the point in their night when they forgot about their wives and children and started to give in to the beasts within. All I had to do was bat my lashes and swing my hips and the tips would come flying, sometimes literally.
The men were a little bit of everything around here. There were witches, wolves, vampires, fairies, seers, and even dragons. That wasn't even half of the creatures that frequented the tavern. This was the place where no one was ostracized due to their background. It was neutral ground.
Much of this area of WarHaven was this way. After the war, segregation died down significantly. After we all came together to care for one another, our families, and our children, things never quite returned to the factions. This couldn't be said for other more populated areas of the country.
"Awe, come on Davina..." Clark put on his best grin that ended up being a lopsided smile as he reached into the pocket of his tunic and laid three coin on the bar. He stood, chugged his beer so quickly it warranted a rather dramatic burp from his stomach, and slammed the mug on the bar top. He nodded once in the direction of the men and stalked that way.
I sighed and scooped up the gold coin, slipping it into the apron protecting my work dress. I grabbed two pitchers and filled them with the golden liquid, turning in the direction of the table and making my way toward them. Time to put on the show.
I approached the table and made eye contact with several of the men. They often ignored women unless they were bold enough to speak up or look them in the eye, so I caught their attention quite quickly.
"Hi boys, another round?" An uproar of cheers ensued as they started to thank Clark. I smiled sweetly and started to fill glasses that were in outstretched arms, being careful not to spill any of the drink, despite their unstable grasps. I leaned forward just enough to show a bit of cleavage as I held eye contact with the men whose cups I was refilling.
One man, a dragon by the looks of his orange, fiery irises and the scales on the backs of his hands, smirked at me and pulled out a coin. He didn't break eye contact as he brought the coin to my chest and slowly traced it down my cleavage, tucking it into my bodice as his friends whistled and cheered. The men started to fill my pockets, getting a polite feel in the process. I kept my smile and batted my lashes just enough.
"Thank you, gentlemen, please let me know if I can get you anything else," I said, straightening and turning my attention back to the bar as I made my way back. I heard foul things in response to my last comment.
"You!" Hollered a fairy from the back right, causing laughter and cheering to fill the table. The men whistled again and I rolled my eyes.
I didn't particularly like putting on a little show for money, it made me feel dirty, but it was how the world worked. Or maybe that's just how men are. There wasn't much I wouldn't do for a coin. I was doing everything I could to make enough coin to get out of my current living situation, and I may need another glass jar to store my earnings in after the tips I collected tonight.
I greeted a few locals and grabbed empty cups off of vacant tables as I weaved my way through the tables. I was almost back to the bar when a hand shot out in front of me, stopping me where I stood. I looked at the man and found myself staring into blood-red eyes. I immediately recognized him. Simon. My breathing increased, my goal was to avoid looking like a deer who had been spotted by a mountain lion, but that's exactly what I was.
YOU ARE READING
WARHAVEN
FantasyHis irises swirled slowly, an enticing pale silver against his stark black lashes. They illuminated slightly, so quick it was gone in a blink. He broke our eye contact, lifting his head straight. A darkly amused expression appeared. It happened so q...