Nazreen

Chapter Forty-Four

Morio's didn't feel the same when he entered. Or maybe it wasn't the bar that felt different. Maybe it was him. He felt like there were bigger things to be doing, bigger fish to fry.

He knew where he'd rather be—but now he had to wait.

He'd get nothing done today. Not in this mindset. Tomorrow, he'd launch the hunt for Killian. Nothing would stop him until he had that vampire's head on a stick.

Ignoring the usual crowds, he headed for the bar, tugging a stool out.

The barmaid watched him with curiosity. She fixed her curls and threw her washcloth aside.

"What is it today?" She asked keenly. "Am I talking to a Ric or a Tom?" He'd forgotten about this routine. It wasn't hard when he had his little snowflake keeping his mind and body busy. She batted her eyelashes flirtatiously. "Long time no see hunter." Not long enough. "I was starting to think something bad had happened to you. It's good to see you're still kicking."

"I need a drink."

He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

Back to this again, as if nothing had ever changed at all. The same bar. The same bullshit. The same routines.

The same empty bed.

"Tell me about it. What are we going for—?"

"Something strong." Emilio didn't care what, so long as it got him drunk. Just for tonight, he wanted to forget. Even if it meant laying in bed, staring at the ceiling and pretending his little vampire Princess was there.

"Someone's in a sour mood. Long day at work? Bad day out in the field?"

"I just need a drink."

For fuck's sake, he wanted her teasing back. Not this. Nazreen could read a social cue. She was like him, better off in the shadows where they could do their own thing.

If all he had to talk to was her for the rest of eternity, it'd be a peaceful eternity.

"Got one coming right up for you. It's on the house. I'm surprised, Ric. It's a Sunday. What're you doing sitting over here? Shouldn't you be over there working out this week's good pickings?"

She pointed to the boards where the new hunters gathered at the front and the slightly more experienced ones lingered near the back.

He didn't turn with her.

He already knew what he'd see there.

"I need a break and time to reflect."

Nazreen wanted him to rethink his mantra. After the disaster of his last mission, he was truly giving it some thought. He needed to find one she could coexist with. He wanted this for them. Nazreen wouldn't get herself involved with anything blatantly dodgy.

"I hear you," Rosa crooned. "Something strong right here." She slid the glass across the countertop. "Though I warn you, that thing could knock a dragon out. Don't drink it too fast sad-sack. Give me a call if you need anything else."

He traced his finger around the rim of the glass, pursing his lips. "I just finished a mission I should've died on."

"So that's what's got you all depressed. Feeling humbled?" Humbled wasn't the word he was going for. He felt like he'd been robbed of something. He'd wiped nearly every rune clean of his body, worried they'd interfere with Seth's tracking magic when push came to shove. "I'm sure you'll be big and bad in no time. I'm glad you're not dead, for what it's worth. This place needs the eye candy." He didn't feel like entertaining her flirting today. Not anymore. "Why so glum? You should've died, you didn't. Sounds to me like a cause for celebration. You should be glad."