Always Hate Me

24. The Girl of his Dreams

Ryder leant against the bar, his mood sour. The pubs patron's bustled around him but he didn't bat an eyelid in acknowledgement. His thoughts circled his head, darkening the deeper he processed them. 

"You did good work today, Crevan." Jakub complimented, clapping Ryder on the back. Jakub signalled for another drink from the barman and settled down on the stool next to Ryder. Ryder didn't reply.

Jakub was one of the Judges. He was a small Polish guy with a loud laugh. He smiled all the time, had leathery wrinkled skin and looked about 20 years older than he was. It had been Jakub's idea that they go out for drinks. 

"Lots of us come here. It's far enough from any leech quarters that it doesn't get vampire patrons." Jakub had explained when he'd towed Ryder toward the place. 

The Itchy Giraffe was in Gomorrah's Irish quarter. It over flowed into the street – it's tables and chair outside un-apologetically obstructing the pavement. Musician's played, with mixed skill, but it was hard to hear them anyway over the general din of laughing, arguing and dancing.

Ryder realised that his hand was sticking to the grimy bar and he pulled a face in disgust.

"This place never cleaned?" He muttered, though nobody heard him. Jakub tried to chat but Ryder shrugged him off. Eventually, giving up on Ryder as a lost cause for the night, Jakub moved on to chat with a young group in the middle of a card game.

Ryder glowered into the bottom of his glass. What should he do about Devi? He moaned drunkenly and ran his sticky fingers through his hair. The problematic Devi Summan. She was so easily swayed by him. So naively trusting. He grimaced. She reminded him of how he'd once been. Years ago, when he and Oliver Fox, fresh out of Uni, had stayed up late – talking into the night about how they'd change the world...

Ryder spun his empty glass, watching it turn around and around. It was strange, the Oliver of those days had told him about his little sister. Which meant that, even back then – before Ryder had known about his magic or Project Blue, he must have known about Lauren's existence in the world. How much time did he waste, in which he might have known her?

The glass fell from the bar, cracking against the floor. Ryder didn't bother to pick it up. He rubbed his tired eyes. It was useless to speculate, since his innocence had soon vanished. Oliver had seen to that when he'd betrayed him. Ryder had been delivered into the arms of Project blue – all wrapped up in a pretty bow.

A drunk jostled into Ryder from behind.

"Sorry, mate." The guy apologised, slurring slightly. Swift as a cobra, Ryder grabbed the man and - holding him by his neck - slammed the poor guy's head against the bar. People quickly lunged at Ryder, trying to pull him off the guy. 

"Hey! That's enough!" 

"Break it up!" 

"He's chocking him!" 

The barman leapt over the bar, wielding a bat, and walloped Ryder across the back with it. Ryder grunted from the impact and released his grip on the drunk's neck.

The guy sagged onto the floor, red in the face and rasping for breath and his friends gathered anxiously around him. The barman seized hold of Ryder and proceeded to drag him outside. Ryder staggered, stumbling on the lip of the door. The barman let him go with a shove that sent Ryder rolling across the cobbles.