A Werewolf, a Vampire, and a Fae Walk Into a Bar

by Karpov Kinrade

  “I certainly didn’t steal this one from someone else,” I joke.

  He chuckles and runs a hand through his slightly balding hair. “You had us all worried,” he says as he cranes his neck to scope out my apartment. “Who helped you?”

  I glance back at the men crowding the entrance to my bedroom, wondering how much I should say. Could Chief Roland help me get rid of these guys? From what I’ve seen, I’m not sure, but it doesn’t mean I’m not gonna try. “Why don’t you come in and meet my knights in shining armor,” I say with a saccharine smile.

  The chief blinks, likely unused to me acting this way when I’m not on bar duty. “Uh, sure. Yeah, I’d like that.”

  He’s dressed in street clothes, but he shifts his coat just enough to reveal the gun holstered at his hip. I nod in approval and lead him into my apartment, which--to be honest, has seen better days. The hardwood floor is pretty timeless--if scuffed in places, but the couch is threadbare and sagging; the recliner is a relic from a different epoch, and not in a cool antique kind of way; the kitchen is littered with dated dishes and appliances that scream 60s yard sale rejects; and the wallpaper is peeling. And this wallpaper...yeah, not the trend. Still, it’s been home since my mom died and my grandparents took me in.

  The chief looks a little misty-eyed as he studies the place. “I haven’t been in here since....”

  “Since my grandfather died,” I say. “Well, you’re always welcome. Grandpa would love to know his old friends were still coming by.”

  Rain has finally settled down and, though she doesn’t fall back asleep, is enjoying snuggling against my chest. “Would you like to hold her?” I ask, though I’m reluctant to let go of my baby.

  The chief’s eyes widen. “Yes. I would.”

  He has four of his own kids and a handful of grandbabies, so he knows how to support her head, but as he takes her, the three men hiding out near my bedroom appear, their predatory instincts on high alert.

  “Who might you be?” The chief asks, one hand dropping back to his gun as he clutches my child carefully with his other.

  “These are the fine gentlemen who came to my rescue,” I say, introducing them. “Zev here is a doctor of sorts, and he delivered little Rain with the help of his friends. They stayed to make sure I was okay. But your timing is perfect. They were looking for a place to stay in town. Maybe you could take them to Nancy’s Bed and Breakfast and convince her to give them a room until the roads are clear enough for them to continue on their way?”

  The chief frowns. “I’m sure Nancy could find you boys something.”

  Darius glares at me. “We are not in need of accommodations at this time.”

  “You’re going to need somewhere to stay until the power comes back and the roads are safe for driving,” I say sweetly.

  The chief, sensing the tension, hands Rain back to me. “Why don’t you boys come with me. We’ll get you sorted. I’m sure Nancy will comp your stay for helping out our Bernie, here.”

  “Thanks, Chief,” I say, nuzzling my baby. Why does she smell so good? How’d she get so perfect so fast?

  When the guys don’t move to follow him, the chief unsnaps his holster and pulls at his gun. “Do we have a problem here?”

  Darius steps forward, his dark-as-sin eyes locked on the chief. “There is no problem here. You can leave. Bern--EE,” he says, stumbling on my name, “is safe. We are friends here to help her. You will spread the word that we are staying with Bernie and everything is fine.”

  “Hey, hold up!” I say, turning to the chief, but his pupils are dilated and he nods.

  “Of course. So glad you boys are here to take care of her. If you need anything, call.” And then he walks out and closes the door behind him, leaving me speechless with the three Sexies--who might need a new nickname at this point. The three irritants perhaps. Or the three pains in my ass, maybe.

  “What did you do to him?” I ask, poking Darius in his rock hard chest. I swear I nearly sprain my finger. But he doesn’t even flinch.

  “What had to be done. This child is too valuable to leave unprotected,” he says.

  “Um, excuse me? I’m the mother, in case you assholes forgot that tiny detail. I can protect my baby just fine. And I think it’s past time the three of you left.”

  Darius sinks into my couch, frowning in discomfort. “I won’t be going anywhere. Not without the child.”

  I look to Rune and Zev but they each shrug. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with us,” Zev says with a flirty grin and a wink. “You get free postpartum medical support, if that’s any consolation.”

  I hesitate, because that is actually the best argument they’ve had so far given my shit insurance. I had no idea how I was going to cover the cost of giving birth to Rain, and yet here I am, in the clear. However, Zev fails to mention the part about them all wanting to steal my baby. “Yeah, that’s great, right up until one of you tries to snatch my kid. Also, come on, you can’t all expect to stay in my tiny apartment. Where will you sleep?”

  They each glance at the second bedroom, the one my grandparents shared for fifty years. “All three of you will share a queen bed?” I ask, bemused.

  Rune frowns. “I believe our sleeping needs are different.”

  “Is this seriously happening?” I ask, frustrated beyond measure and suddenly completely exhausted. I hobble to the recliner as Rain starts to fuss again and begin nursing her just as my stomach rumbles.

  “When was the last time you ate?” Rune asks, casting a sideways glance at my sad kitchen.

  I shrug. “It’s been a while,” I admit.

  Rune heads to my kitchen and begins rummaging through cupboards. “When was the last time you acquired food?”

  I shrug again. “Look, it’s been a busy third trimester.”

  Rune looks to Darius and Mr. Tall, Dark and Sexy sighs in annoyance, then in a blink disappears through my window.

  What the-- “Listen,” I say, pulling my gaze from the window to the remaining two Sexies. “You guys need to start acting like normal human beings if you plan on staying here, or this isn’t going to work.”

  Sadly, my point is undermined when I yawn, exhaustion overtaking me.

  Zev saunters over, his gait like a wild animal, sleek and fluid. “Come. Get some rest. Your body is still healing.”

  Another yawn takes control of my face and I don’t argue as he helps me up. I burp Rain while making my way to the bedroom. I have no energy left for arguing, and it’s clear it won’t do any good anyways. Maybe with some sleep I’ll have a better idea how to get these guys out of my life for good.

  Not wanting to let go of Rain, I take her to bed with me, and the moment my head hits the pillow, I pass out.

  My dreams are feverish in nature, full of strange beasts and haunting images that blend my life in New York with other realms, and monsters chasing me. When I wake, I am covered in a sheen of sweat that makes my sheets stick to me.

  I’m groggy as I try to figure out what woke me, and realize my breasts are painfully swollen and leaking milk all over my bed. Rain still sleeps, and my bladder feels ready to burst. Oh the joys of motherhood.

  As I sit up and prepare to secure Rain with pillows while I head to the bathroom, I gasp.

  This is my room, but it isn’t. The wallpaper has been replaced with a pale blue paint and elaborate moulding. My bed is no longer the ancient mattress with springs that poke and prod, but instead seems to be made of clouds with a new four-poster rosewood canopy draped with shimmering silver silk. My sheets are luxuriously soft and match the walls, with a thick velvet white comforter embroidered with small flowers. New art hangs on my walls, and new furniture has replaced what I once had.

  My urgent need to pee propels me forward despite my confusion, and I find the bathroom has also been redone with scented hand-carved soaps, new paint and light fixtures, and a thick carpet. Even the sink, toilet and bathtub have been replaced. What the actual hell?

  Once I relieve myself, I head to t
he living room to find out what’s going on. Am I hallucinating? Have I lost my damn mind?

  Rune is in my kitchen plating food--a kitchen that now boasts new cabinets, new tile flooring, and state of the art appliances. Darius is sitting on an exquisite love seat, and Zev is stoking a fire in a fireplace I didn’t have a few hours ago. My rickety upright out of tune piano has been replaced with a Steinway that easily cost $200,000. My fingers itch to play it, so much that my eyes burn with tears at the thought. It’s been awhile since I’ve had one of those babies under my fingers.

  “Could someone please explain to me how my entire apartment has changed while I slept?” I ask. “Wait, is this paranormal thing a bit, and you’re actually part of an HGTV remodeling show?”

  “H...G… what?” Leave it to Rune to be confused by everything and confirm that, no, I’m not on a reality show.

  Darius looks up from a book he’s reading. “The chosen one needed better accommodations,” he says, simply, as if that explains everything.

  Rune approaches with a plate--bone china, mind you--filled with chicken, a fresh salad and a side of grilled vegetables. “You must eat and replenish your strength.”

  “How’d you cook without power?” I ask, my stomach rumbling as I take a seat on the new couch and sigh at how comfortable it is.

  “You now have a barbeque on your balcony,” Rune says. “And you have a balcony.”

  I raise an eyebrow, and glance out the new door leading to said balcony. This isn’t possible. “Where did all this stuff come from?” I ask, studying my surroundings.

  “It wasn’t easy,” Zev says, “but we’re resourceful.”

  “How did I not hear this? How did you add a balcony and change wallpaper and redo my floors in just a few hours while my baby and I slept through it all?”

  “We have our ways,” Rune says. “Ways that would not be comprehensible to your kind.”

  I shake my head, entirely bemused and befuddled, but also slightly ravenous.

  The food is delicious and I make quick work of it. Rune is on hand to take my plate back to my entirely renovated kitchen. The apartment is still small, but it no longer feels that way. Everything is high quality and top of the line. I feel... pampered. It’s a strange sensation and I don’t know how to respond.

  “What happened to my personal stuff?” I ask, looking around, my eyes landing on my family portrait with relief. I walk over, still careful with my stiff and fragile body, and study the four of us. “This was the last picture taken of us before my mom died,” I say to the room, not really caring who’s listening. “The day we had it done she and I had gotten into a huge fight. I don’t even remember what about, just that I was still in a pissy mood when the photographer showed up.”

  I study my young face, all tween angst and drama. But my mom, she’s glancing down at me with such fierce love. Sometimes this image is the only one I can clearly remember of her, the way the right side of her lip curls higher than the left when she smiles, and the tiny scar on her forehead that had a different story to it every time I asked her how she got it. She and I share the same bright blue eyes and dark hair, the same pale complexion. We both take after my grandmother, who is clutching my grandfather’s hand in the portrait. “My grandparents raised me after my mom died,” I say. I’ll need to visit my grandmother soon. Introduce her to Rain. She may not remember us, but I want her to know her great-granddaughter nonetheless.

  “Anything personal was kept,” Zev says. “The rest was tossed.”

  Right. I really hope these guys know how to tell the difference between what’s personal and what’s not.

  Now that I’ve eaten my fill, I can no longer resist the temptation of that piano, regardless of how they acquired all this shit in a black out snow storm.

  “You didn’t rob anyone, did you?” I ask, suddenly worried as I make my way to the piano bench.

  Darius chuckles. “No. We have no need for that. Everyone was well compensated.”

  “Much of this was accomplished by magic,” Rune says with a shrug, as if that explains it all.

  As long as they didn’t steal it, I’m satisfied enough to enjoy it for now. I let my fingers run over the ivory keys, closing my eyes as my memories drift back to my time in New York, to the life that could have been… if I hadn’t gotten pregnant. If my grandfather hadn’t died. If...if...if.

  Too many ifs. I shove them away and begin to play. I start with something easy to warm up. I haven’t had much time for this since I’ve been back. But as muscle memory kicks in, I move to more complicated pieces, finally landing on Ravel’s Gaspard de la Nuit, one of the hardest piano pieces ever written. Everything disappears and I lose myself in the complex notes, reveling in the way my body feels, the way the music fills the apartment, the way I connect to the instrument like I am one with it.

  When I finish, there is a profound silence in the room, and I turn to see all three guys staring at me in wonder.

  Darius exhales a breath he seems to have been holding in. “I have never in my significantly long life heard anything so beautiful.” His voice is soft, almost a breath against my mind, and his praise fills something in me that has been empty for far too long. I fall into the feeling, wishing I could have had the life that was once promised to me.

  Before.

  The mood is broken by the sound of someone knocking at the door.

  Who’s here now? I don’t get this many visitors on a normal day, let alone in the middle of a freaking blizzard.

  The guys exchange worried glances, and I sigh and go to answer.

  My childhood bestie stands at the threshold, mascara running down her cheeks, long blond hair pulled into a messy bun, her clothing disheveled.

  “AJ?” My gaze falls to the blood seeping through a bandage tied haphazardly around her arm. “What the hell?”

  “Can I stay here for a few days?” she asks, sniffling. “John shot me.”

  Chapter Five

  “Jesus Christ, AJ!” I guide her out of the cold, trembling with fear and rage. I disliked John when they started dating, loathed him a year into their marriage, and now I finally get to kill him.

  We move toward the loveseat, and my sexy, irritating, home remodelers all gather round. I’m too focused on AJ’s wound to consider the scene she finds herself walking into.

  “Sweet Lord have mercy,” AJ mutters under her breath, her head on a swivel as she looks between my gorgeous guests. “Shit, Bernie, did you win the lottery?”

  AJ’s the best. The bullet wound could be in her head and she’d still crack wise. I get her seated and, before I can make the request, Zev is there with a towel and some unmarked glass bottles. Those weren’t here a day ago, so I guess he found an apothecary while he was piano shopping.

  “Hi…” AJ manages to say as she falls into the wilderness that lives in Zev’s green eyes.

  “Good morning,” Zev replies in his gruff but soothing voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “I’m Anna Jane,” she says softly, with an obvious subtext of “please ravage me.”

  Hearing AJ use her full name throws me. She hates her name, even more than I hate Bernadette. Clearly, she’s overwhelmed by the magnitude of hotness in my apartment. Hell, she hasn’t even noticed the million-dollar renovation yet--or my freaking baby!

  Rune walks over with a glass of water for her. The manners on these intruders consistently surprise me. As he hands her the glass, he pours a single drop of something from another unmarked bottle.

  “Here, this will help with the pain.”

  I stifle a laugh. Since walking in and laying eyes on Darius, Zev, and Rune, I don’t think AJ’s felt a thing.

  “Thank you, I--oh my.”

  Her reaction to Zev ripping the sleeve off her undershirt is ridiculously muted. Oh my? This girl normally swears like a sailor, and now she’s trying to pull off the demure act while my Sexies tend to her gunshot wound? I catch myself getting possessive and try to dial it back. These ub
er-hot creeps are here to steal your baby, Bernie. Don’t forget that.

  “It’s a deep cut, but the instrument passed through surface tissue and didn’t hit the bone,” Zev explains, his words entirely lost on AJ as she studies his woodland god-like face.

  “AJ,” I say firmly, kneeling down and putting my hands on her knees. God, it feels good to kneel again. That’s something you take for granted until you’re eight months pregnant and trying to put on a shoe. “AJ, what happened? And where is that son of a bitch?”

  She finally turns away from Zev and looks at me, a sadness settling in behind her big brown eyes.

  “He was drunk and mad, because, you know, that’s just his natural state of being,” she starts, and I can see there’s more anger than sadness in her look. It’s a hard shift to notice, but after a few thousand heart-to-hearts with this girl, I pick up on her mood pretty fast.

  “Then the power went out and he started getting drunker, and that made him madder. We yelled at each other a little last night and then he passed out, so I thought that was the end of it. But the bastard started drinking first thing this morning. I called him a deadbeat loser and may have said a thing or two about his mother, then I got shot.”

  She’s a little too casual in her storytelling for my taste, but I know she’s trying to keep her rage at bay. John started making life more difficult the day he and AJ met when he transferred to our high school senior year, but she always thought she could fix him. I wonder if this will be her breaking point.

  “I’m so sorry. Of course you can stay--”

  I’m interrupted by a cry from the bedroom, which serves as a great reminder that I have a baby. It also alerts AJ to a few of the changes.

  “Holy shit! Bern! You’re not pregnant!”

  That was the obvious one. I’ll give her time to catch up on the other tweaks as the day goes on.

  She bursts to her feet and pulls me into a strong embrace, thwarting Zev’s efforts to clean her wound.

  “Where is she?” AJ asks, happy tears in her eyes. “I have to meet her.”