Page 29 of Jackal's Pride
I flagged Molly at the other end of the bar. She whipped up several glasses for Jack before she wandered down to wait on others. He drank them one after another like shots of water. I’d been drinking them for a century, and they still knocked me on my ass if I wasn’t careful. Molly and Fear didn’t sell human consumables here, not even alcohol. They only offered the hardcore demon shit brewed by witches. Molly liked blending several concoctions together for a death-defying experience. I told her it was like swallowing acid and taking a stab to the juggler every time but she never listened. After Jackal’s sixth glass, he wasn’t affected in the least bit. Amazing!
I propped my elbow up on the counter and watched him. “How are you holding up?”
“Why do you ask?” He called for Molly, and she supplied another round. I arched an eyebrow as he chugged down glass after glass.
“Because you’re drinking the witch’s brew like it’s going out of style.” I tapped my finger toward the empty glass. “Anyone else would have passed the hell out by now.”
He stared at the empty glasses in front of him. “I guess being drunk is something I won’t experience.”
I agreed and continued watching him. “But, please, keep going so we can find out.”
“Yeah.” He got Molly’s attention again. Even her lips were gaped, seemingly part shocked and amused as she made a few more drinks. “With all that has happened, I see no point in being cautious now.”
I pushed my elbow off the bar as I studied him. As Molly slid more drinks to him, he gulped them down and scanned the room. I kept waiting on him to acknowledge me beside him, but the way he craned his neck in the opposite direction and kept it there made it seem like he was purposely not looking at me. When he did finally turn around, he made it a chore to avoid my eyes. I crossed my arms and exhaled. “You did a good thing today,” I mentioned in hopes of getting him to glance at me—or at least relax and loosen his shoulders some.
“I know,” he said dully.
He still wouldn’t look at me. Where was the anger? Was this some sort of challenge? Were we going back to pretending we were unfazed by the other hoping that one of us would give in?
I moved in closer to him. “How do you know?”
He faced me and said, “Because the one hundred and thirty-seven are at peace for now.” Then he glanced at the elixirs lining the wall behind the bar. Suddenly, he sat taller and glared at me. “Can you not get so close? I can’t handle your smell.”
I flinched like I’d been slapped. Three times he’d hurled this insult at me. Pride was punching at my stomach like someone had poured battery acid down my throat. Not only that, something pinched at my chest like I was actually hurt about what he thought. That only made me angrier. Scowling, I said, “What’s wrong with my smell?”
“Like… I don’t know!” He picked up a glass and pushed off the stool.
I was left mouth agape, face red with mortification and fury, as he walked away.
“Having fun?” I blinked, swallowed painfully trying to reign in my fury as Newt occupied the stool Jackal vacated. Once I saw the bald warlock, I relaxed a little.
“I see Gavin still hasn’t shown his face,” I redirected my pride onto something else.
“Let him lick his wounds.” Newt replied. “What will you do with Jackal, anyway?” Instead of pride punching my insides, something equally worse did. Humiliation. My sin didn’t allow such an emotion, yet…
I licked my lips and smirked, a false bravado in place of where my real one should be. “Jackal’s useful. I believe I’ll keep him.” I could handle a lot but his repulsive reaction replayed over and over in my head. Maybe the fact that he was a shapeshifter affected his sense of smell? I could accept that, but what I couldn’t accept was why his words bothered me. Honestly, why would his opinion of my scent make me a little sad?
“You’re in a mood,” said Newt as he straightened on his stool. The warlock was an odd guy. He never came onto me. Instead, he seemed fine with keeping me company, but I knew I didn’t mistake his wandering eyes. His interest in me wasn’t completely platonic, yet he never tried anything.
As much as I liked Newt, I had no interest in a sexual or romantic relationship with him. Reveling in my power over men, I couldn’t help from testing him occasionally. “Want to help me take the edge off?”
His lascivious gaze drifted up my body before landing on my face. “Are you serious or playing with me?”
“That’s a line we’ll never cross.” I patted his shoulder and his head lowered. I saw the disappointment flatten his lips. And it fed my pride.
“You’re cruel, Maureen. I almost feel sorry for Gavin.” His eyes strayed to my jean-covered legs. “Now that Gavin destroyed his only shot with you—”
“He never had one,” I corrected him.
“Right,” Newt continued, “I don’t have to worry about stepping on his toes if I come onto you.”
I chuckled. “Didn’t you hear what I just said?”
Suddenly, someone jerked Newt off his stool. Glimpsing up, I saw Jackal holding him by the collar. His emerald irises were brimming with darkness, and his large canines were out and practically dripping with saliva. He looked crazy—murderous.I jumped up, my heart pounding. I didn’t know what the entity was thinking but killing outside the ring was a huge no-no at The Den. Not to mention Newt was probably the closest thing I had to a friend besides my family. I had to keep him safe. But I forgot the being could handle himself. He was a powerful warlock and the one that helped me find Jackal after all. Newt raised his palm and with the flick of his wrist, blasted Jackal through the hoard of demons. With Jackal being blown through the crowd, Newt smoothed his shirt down and dusted it off with an irritated scowl like it was filthy now. Meanwhile, Jackal never fell on his back or knees, instead he threw his arms out plowing over several creatures as he used them to slow his body. He dropped his arms once he was fully stopped. Demons never complained when an entity like Jackal knocked them down. Why? Because it wasJackal. When he began to stalk toward us, they parted like he was some sort of god.
“What the fuck, Jackal?” I hissed as I stepped between him and Newt.
“I don’t like him,” Jackal said in an almost savage voice. His jade eyes bored into Newt, standing behind me.