Page 37 of Heathens

“I like that. Maybe it’ll be my new middle name?”

“Don’t let it inflate your ego. I just thought it packed some punch.”

“It does. I’d like to hear it in a more intimate setting.” She pours me another drink and slides it toward me, probably trying to justify the massive tip I gave her. “Speaking of names, Sofie, is that your real one?”

“Why the fuck do you care?” She leans over the bar, wiping it down with a small black rag, getting close, but not so close that we actually touch.

“Well, if I’m gonna sit in front of a pretty girl every night, I’d like to know what to call her – you know, other than gorgeous, angel, princess…”

For the first time, I get a genuine laugh. It’s mocking, but I’ll take what I can get. For now.

“God, that’s terrible. Do any of those usually work for you?”

“You’re honest,” I chuckle. “I like that.”

Her eyes dig into mine and her smile falls away.

“You have to be in my line of work.”

Gorgeous, sharp, and she doesn’t take any bullshit. I love it.

“Are you going to answer my question?” I sip my drink. “Because I can come up with far worse nicknames for you all night.”

She worries at her lip with her teeth, like she’s debating whether to tell me something extremely important. Finally, she lets out a long sigh.

“Yeah, Sofie’s my real name.”

Her eyes light up just a little, like telling me had taken some weight off her shoulders, or set her free‌.

“It’s lovely, I–”

Suddenly, there’s a crash and a yelp from behind me. I turn to see a tall blond vampire tussling with a brunette, while a woman tries to break the two of them up.

“Son of a bitch,” her friend spits, pulling her gun out of her apron. “Hey! Hunter! You know the fucking rules. None of that shit in here!”

“You good, Ruby?” Sofie pulls out her own weapon and her friend holds out a hand to stop her.

“Yeah, I got this. We need someone to sling the drinks.”

Ruby hops over the bar and storms toward the action. I chuckle and sip at my bourbon as I watch her go, but it’s only a couple of seconds before I hear another crash, this time behind the bar. When I turn back to Sofie, she’s already staring right at me, a coy look lingering on her face while chaos continues to erupt behind me.

“I’m so clumsy,” she mutters to no one in particular. “I’m heading to the back, gotta get a broom.”

Her fingers trail along the counter as she walks to the end of the bar and takes one last look at me, daring me to follow, before disappearing around the corner.

She’s taking a risk, and I know it. But this attraction between us that’s been building is quickly bordering on obsession. I dreamed about her this morning. We were walking in the sunshine along the beach. Her hair was flowing behind her and her hand was woven in mine. I haven’t seen the sun in over a century, but somehow it’s burned perfectly into my memory. For the first time in years, I jolted from sleep, aching for my humanity.

I glance behind me to see two security guards hauling the rambunctious vamps toward the door. All eyes are on them, the perfect distraction.

I finish my drink, abandoning the empty glass on the counter before sliding behind the bar and into the back. They’ve done so much work on this place that you could swear it was never actually hallowed ground. The only hints are the stained glass windows, the heavy church doors, and the fact that this place somehow still smells like communion wine.

There’s a sliver of light coming from a room at the end of the hall. Behind it I can hear her heavy breath, her heart pounding, her blood roaring. It drowns out everything else.

Sofie is leaning up against the wall as I enter, twirling a strand of red hair around one finger. It’s a little storage closet, filled with boxes of supplies, glasses, syrups to make cocktails, and some old vestments still hanging in clear garment bags.

“Sir, this is for employees only,” she scolds.

Without a word, I shut the door and close the gap between us, pressing my palms against the concrete wall to cage her in all over again. Her eyes burn into mine as her cheeks flush, making her freckles stand out even more. The smell of her perfume makes me want to drop to my knees and worship her; devour her. I wish we had more than just a handful of minutes.

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