Page 23 of Ryld's Shadows
Hank took a sip.Not bad at all.Not as heavy as some of the human stouts. “No, I’ve been living a little farther uptown. Been here about five years now.”
“You the reason Cress is gone?”
“No.” Hank allowed a little smile. “He did that all on his own. He quit. Wish I could take credit.”
“I’m going to talk to people,” Ryld said.
Ryld promptly wove his way into the crowd with this pronouncement, leaving Hank at the bar.
“I was hoping you were going to tell me you broke his pretty nose for him and sent him packing, or at least that he was fired. Piece of work, that one. I really hope you aren’t cut from the same cloth.” The words were said lightly, casually, but could almost have been a threat if Hank chose to take them that way. Maybe he was meant to, he wasn’t sure.
Far safer to take them as teasing, though. He snorted and took another sip. “The Mother Goddesses forbid. I certainly felt like punching him, the way he talked to Ryld, but it’s bad form to start brawls in the middle of an AURA lobby. No, Ryld requested no moreminders. I’m just here to be helpful.”
Deshun gave a small grunt that sounded neutral. “Ryld’s a little different, but he’s a good dude. The servers love him. He tips really well, but they’d like him anyway. We watch out for him in here.”
“That’s good to know. And I think he’s a good person too.”
Deshun leaned an arm on the bar, getting closer. “Just wanted to make sure you knew it. I’m not putting up with any of that shit Cress tried to pull. Don’t be tryin’ to use him like bait.”
Hank stopped with his beer halfway to his lips. He set it back down. “Bait?”
Deshun nodded. “It’s none of my business who hooks up with who, but Cress telling some horndog that’s been panting after Ryld all night that he could maybe make a three-way happen later if he was nice…that’s just wrong.”
“Fucking shale and scree.” The mild curse didn’t come anywhere near the volcanic rumbling in Hank’s blood. That utterbastard. “I really should’ve punched him, and he really should’ve been fired. Did Ryld…? Did he understand that this was happening?”
Deshun seemed to consider this. “Ryld asked me once about human and crossover sex. Most awkward convo of my life, and I’ve been tendin’ bar for ten years. Thing is, he already knew all about the physical stuff. It was more the cues he was fuzzy on. So I explained flirting. I don’t know how much he understood, but I know he understood why that fuck boy elf was disappearing for a while and coming back later for him.”
“I’m starting to see why literally nobody liked him.” Hank couldn’t help glancing toward Ryld where he chatted away with several patrons, making sure he was safe.
Did Ryld ever hook up? Was it any of his business? Well, yeah, it was, because what if Ryld got upset and there was an incident… Stones. Could he be in the apartment while Ryld was, ah…? He was going to have to be if it happened, and his stomach was churning just thinking about it. Because…because he was concerned. That’s all.Right. You keep on lying to yourself.
Watching Ryld move through the room, stopping here and there to talk, was a bit like tracking a butterfly. One would think he’d be hard to keep tabs on, given his smaller stature, but the purple coat and pink glasses helped him stand out. By the time the bar was getting ready to close, Ryld had talked to nearly every person in it as far as Hank could tell. If he was interested in anyone he talked to for more than conversation, though,thatHank couldn’t determine.
“Hank, they will be closing soon,” Ryld said when he came back to where Hank was sitting at the bar.
“I hear.” Hank chuckled as Deshun bellowed out last call. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yes. Are you ready to go?”
The way he said it, he seemed to be testing the words out. It was a small thing but told him Ryld wasn’t used to the usual back-and-forth of a normal friendship. For that matter, Hank was out of practice, too. “Yes. Let’s go.”
Outside a drizzle was coming down. It was late enough and the weather unpleasant enough to make the streets fairly empty. Ryld seemed all talked out and walked by Hank’s side without trying to look everywhere at once. Hank was about to ask if he’d enjoyed the night when a loud angry shout followed by the clang of something metal being dropped or thrown cut him off. The noise came from another alley between two buildings, and as they pulled level with it, Hank spotted two people fighting.
“Hey!” he shouted.
“Fuck off!” one of the men yelled back. It was dark, but Hank’s night vision was good enough to see he had something in his hand, probably a knife.
The other man threw a trash can lid at the one with the knife. “Help!”
Humans in New York had always told Hank not to get involved. Keep walking. None of your business. He hadn’t been raised that way, though, and that desperate plea wasn’t something he could just walk away from.Well, fuck.
“Ryld, stay here, please,” he murmured before jogging into the alley. “Put the knife down, buddy. Don’t want things to get ugly.”
The man turned and charged him, slashing with the knife. Hank blocked the downward motion, knocking his arm aside with one hand while planting the other in the center of the attacker’s chest. The motions were automatic and effective, and the way the man crumpled so easily let Hank know he was dealing with an amateur. Just a mugger, not someone trained in combat. Still, the weapon couldn’t be taken lightly.
When the man fell he didn’t drop the knife, and Hank kicked at his hand to get it away.
“Hank!” Ryld’s warning gave him just enough time to bring an arm up almost without thinking as the one that had screamed for help tried to bash him over the head with the metal lid. He too now wielded a knife in his other hand.
