“You know the rules; only asses on the bar are if they’re getting bent over it,” he scolds, eyes narrowed in disapproval.
“Would it get me something from the top shelf?” She grins playfully, batting her eyes at the man as she leans in to rest her arms on the counter.
He snorts. “You wouldn’t know the difference between a Russo-Baltique and Everclear. Take your screwdriver and go back to the cave you crawled out of, heathen.”
She flutters a hand to her chest in mock indignation. “You wound me, Cy. Keep talking like that and people will think I’m some horrible witch.”
Cy jerks his head towards me as he notices me openly eavesdropping. He mumbles something low towards her, and I try to look away, really I do, but there’s just something about the girl that keeps drawing my attention back to her. She tilts her head to face us and I get my first solid look at her.
The hair at her scalp is a bright, sky blue, fading deeper to purple before blending into red. The tips end in a golden color, and I have never once seen someone with such eccentric hair in my life. It should look ridiculous, but she manages to pull it off flawlessly; like a hummingbird flitting around, unable to sit still and unaware of how entrancing it is to behold. That, coupled with her unnerving, piercing silver eyes, makes her look absolutely mesmerizing.
Motherfuck, she’s got trouble written all over her. And yet, I can’t seem to look away.
Dorian and Atlas come up behind me as she slams back her drink, raises the empty glass, and gets to her feet. “Thanks for the drink, but I’m calling it a night. Good luck in the cesspool, boys.” She turns and saunters away without so much as a backwards glance, heading towards the employee door on the far wall and disappears.
Atlas slaps my shoulder. “Good on you for trying though, Lucien. Sucks, but bound to happen a few times.”
I toss him a confused look over my shoulder. “I didn’t buy her a drink.”
Cy laughs. “No, you did.” He tosses Atlas his credit card and walks away to go help the building line of customers, cackling away.
“Son of a bitch.” I reach into my back pocket and open my wallet, finding my credit card missing too.
By Dorian’s sigh, I can only assume his is gone also.
“That little show of hers. That’s why she worked through the crowd; she was pickpocketing everyone.”
I didn’t even get laid and still got robbed.
“We might not have gotten lucky, but we sure got fucked over,” Dorian mirrors my sentiments, frowning.
Glancing up at Atlas from my seat, I glare at him like it’s his fault. And to be fair, it is; he’s the one that decided we needed to go out. He grinds his teeth, turning to stomp over to the bartender.
“Where can we find her?” he growls.
“Buddy, you don’t find Cambria. She finds you, and lord help ‘ya if she does.” Cy walks away still cackling, leaving us no closer than we were before.
“Well, that was mildly alarming,” Dorian helpfully points out, taking things in stride.
I rise to my feet, glowering. “Come on, she can’t have gone far.”
Chapter 2
Cambria
Six hundred and twenty, six hundred sixty, seven hundred. Thank fuck.
I flip through the bundle of cash in the ‘employee lounge’ with my feet kicked up on the table in front of me and tipping my chair back on two legs. Really, it’s just a room big enough to store our shit and a few of us to eat on break, but people have long since stopped storing anything valuable in here.
I know, I was surprised too.
The bass is muffled behind the door, but I can still swing one of my feet in time with the beat. It may sound like nothing beyond noise to some people, but I love it. It’s dramatic, heavy, and I can’t think when it’s blasting. All I can do is let it take over my body and dance until I can barely stand, let alone focus on all of the shit in my life. There’s something to be said about mindless pleasure, and I embrace the concept like there’s no tomorrow. It’s never promised for the best of them, and even less so for someone like me.
The door slams open behind me and I tip my head back to view the world upside down while stuffing the money into my bra. It’s not the first time somebody got their panties in a twist with me around, and honestly, I’m still shocked I haven’t gotten my ass beaten for it yet.
The club owner puts up with me because I draw in a heavy crowd that pads his pockets, so he doesn’t care if I skim some from the sheep as long as it isn’t from him. But the occasional person that’s far too sober for this place isn’t as kind. Typically, I just duck out after and avoid all of the drama, but I needed to make sure I had enough tonight before I left, since it’s already past my deadline.
That, and there’s something about the dark haired, stoic man that’s making my powers agitated. Not in a bad way, but an unsettling one I haven’t encountered before. And let’s be real, I’m a sucker for a good mystery.
The three men storm into the room wearing various expressions of pissed off and amused, like they can’t decide what they’re supposed to be feeling. Not unusual, I get that a lot, but with the way one of them is glaring at me, I send up a silent thanks that Jax is due to go on break any minute in case I run into trouble.
“Cambria,” the hostile one scolds, and I hate him just a little bit for talking that way to a person he doesn’t even know.
I’ve heard enough of that tone in my life; I don’t deserve it from a man I’ve never met. Where does he get off deciding how I should behave? I mean sure, I stole his credit card, but I only bought one drink with it. And gave it back! Really, he should be grateful.
“In the flesh,” I goad, continuing to tap my foot to the rhythm and feigning calm.
“Fork ‘em over,” tall, dark, and trouble calmly demands, strutting up beside his angry friend and jutting out his hand.
I slip the other two cards out of my back pocket and slap them into his palm without a fight. “No need to be so upset. How else was a girl supposed to get your attention in this place?”
He pauses, confused and taken aback, but the blonde snorts. “Dude, she’s playing you.” He grabs his card and stuffs it back in his wallet. “Pretty girls will say whatever they can to get away with shit.”
He motherfuckin’ didn’t.
Getting to my feet, I count to three so that I won’t lose control and do something I may or may not regret. If I go by which man took which card back, it's Lucien that steps in to try and regain control over the situation.
“Don’t be difficult because you got caught. You should expect things like this to happen. If you managed your money better, you wouldn’t need to steal,” he chastises.
I change my mind. I don’t care if I am curious about what’s making my powers agitated, these three can kindly fuck right off.
Atlas runs a hand through his shaggy dark hair. It ends up sticking every which way in a haphazard mess as he backs down, looking nervous. “L, let’s just call this one a wash and go home.”
Dorian interjects before I can formulate a seething retort, too focused on wanting to knock Lucien on his ass. “Sure, she might not be what we were expecting, but we’ve handled worse situations. It worked out well enough, so let’s just head back out there.”