Page 3 of Demon On Deck

Water and I are not friends. More importantly, I do not have time for this. I have a company to run, people who depend on me, and clients to keep happy. It took time to build the trust and relationships my firm depends on for its success.

“Make it a double,” I tell the small human bartender who is trying to discreetly study my horns but failing miserably.

The bartender complies and pours me a double before moving down to the next person. I shift in my seat and take in my surroundings. The lounge where the mixer is being held is a two-story club. There are disco balls and streamers everywhere. The mirrored dance floor and pulsing club music only add to my feeling of displacement and sour my mood further.

With the intimate, small booths and tables, this feels more like a speed-dating event than a meet-and-greet.

As if I hadn’t been to enough of those last year. A year's worth of speed dating events, also courtesy of my mother, and I could spot the setup. Why my mother can’t just buy me a tie, I’ll never understand.

At least if this were speed-dating, there’d be a chance of finding someone. Not a thought I choose to acknowledge, and certainly not one I will be sharing with my mother. Ever.

Throwing back my drink, I watch the crowd mingle and dance, happily chatting away and enjoying themselves. It’s a great mix of humans and monsters, and if I really wanted to, I could slip into a conversation.

But I don’t.

I want to go home. To my business. Away from open water.

Looking down the bar, I signal the bartender for another and resume watching the crowd. More mingling, more dancing, more drinking, more of me having zero interest in being here.

I’m ready to knock back my drink and call it a night before the polite and flirty tipsy goes into handsy drunk when the most intoxicating scent hits me. It’s floral, like hibiscus mixed with citrus.

My eyes search the crowd for the source of the mouthwatering aroma. It takes me several minutes, but I finally spot her. A voluptuous redhead, making her way through the crowd towards the bar.

Never have I seen such a beautiful woman in all my long days. Not tall, maybe five-five. Hourglass figure with curves in all the right places, wrapped in a stunning green dress that accentuates her gorgeous figure. A waist made to grip and thighs I could picture wrapped around my head. Coppery hair, the color of the fire that runs through my veins, sways around her as she moves through the crowd. A few wild strands frame her face, drawing my attention. Full pouty lips, a slender nose, and vibrant blue eyes.

Stunning.

Once she reaches the bar, she pauses and looks around the room before turning her attention to me.

“You look about as thrilled about being here as I feel,” she says with a bemused smile.

“And how do you feel about being here?” I ask casually

She deadpans, “Like I’d rather be at work.”

A deep laugh erupts from me as the sassy redhead gives me a smile.

“May I?” She asks, indicating the empty seat next to me.

“Please. Drink?”

Taking a look around at our surroundings, she turns back to me and says, “Definitely.”

I grab the bartender's attention once again. “A single for me and whatever my workaholic friend here would like.”

“Hey,” she says with an easy smile, lightly slapping my arm. “Takes one to know one, buddy. I’ll have a lemon drop martini.”

The bartender pours me another bourbon and begins making her drink.

I stick my hand out to her. “I’m Evran.”

She slips her delicate hand in mine, and I watch in fascination as my giant red hand engulfs her small, silky, soft one.

“Kallie.”

“Nice to meet you, Kallie.”

“You too,” she says, releasing my hand and taking a sip of the drink the bartender sets in front of her.