Wicked Bartender PG-13 Version

by KuroKoneko Kamen

  ***

  Kim was surprised how easily she’d been able to convince Alan that they should have a double date at Casanova’s. A triumphant smirk curled her pouty, pink lips and she was filled with feminine pride. But…Alan was obviously hiding something. When the topic of getting a musician for Dullahan’s had first been brought up, Alan had turned deathly pale and had dropped the tray of drinks he’d been carrying. No one else had seemed to notice anything amiss but Kim had. She wondered if something had happened with a past musician at Dullahan’s? Like a love affair gone wrong. She intended to find out.

  Alan seemed to like the idea of Dante and Joan having dinner together. He’d even offered them clothes to wear that Alan had made himself. Alan was an awesome clothes designer. He not only designed the logo for the pub and made the t-shirts and tank tops that they sold in the pub, but he also designed other clothes for fun. Alan had a closet filled with female clothes - something that she and Joan had had a lot of fun teasing Alan about when they discovered it. Of course, Alan also had a lot of cool looking suits in that closet, which he’d been quick to point out.

  After about twenty minutes of perusing Alan’s closet, Kim picked out a halter-style, red, floor-length, evening gown. She slipped her leather jacket on over the dress, and slipped her feet into a pair of sexy, black stilettos. The dress was covered in sparkling sequins and glittered like a ruby. Kim looked good in red. It brought out the gold tones in her skin.

  As for Joan, she’d reluctantly agreed to wear a dress, and not pants for once. This was nothing short of a miracle for the feminist. Joan ended up deciding upon a sophisticated, emerald-green gown that was form-fitting and strapless. It showed off Joan’s nice collarbone.

  Kim was feeling pretty hot in her new dress, and when she and Joan finally stepped out of Alan’s bedroom she giggled when she noted that Dante’s mouth visible dropped open. Alan helped the bartender to close his mouth by putting his index finger beneath Dante’s chin and lifting his chin up. Dante snapped out of his stupor that had been created by Joan wearing a dress and elbowed Alan in the side. The bartender hissed something into Alan’s ear that made the young man blush and look straight at Kim. Alan gulped. “You…er, look uh, nice.”

  Kim placed a hand on her jutted hip and smiled. “Gee, thanks, Alan. I was beginning to wonder with your silence guys.”

  Dante’s attention refocused upon a fidgeting Joan. She wouldn’t meet his gaze and her eyes were focused on the floor. “Joan.” His voice was deep and husky, probably from letting his eyes wander over Joan’s delectably exposed collarbone.

  Joan looked up and gave Dante a hopeful look. “Yes?”

  “You don’t look half bad, woman.” He smirked.

  Joan bristled at the demon’s backhanded compliment. “Hmph!”

  Dante chuckled while thinking about how Joan looked lovely when she was angry.

  Now that the bedroom was free, Dante and Alan went inside so that they could get dressed next. When the two men emerged a few minutes later, the girls were caught off guard by how incredibly handsome they’d both turned out. Alan had chosen to wear a steampunk style suit consisting of a dark green, button-down shirt, a black vest, a gold pocket watch, a black jacket, black pants and shiny, black leather shoes. He also had a stylish black fedora with a dark green ribbon wrapped around its base on his head.

  Alan had picked out a Victorian-style suit to give to Dante. He was confident that Joan was going to like what she saw when she saw the bartender in this particular suit. It made the bartender look like a sexy vampire. The suit consisted of a white, button-down shirt, a red and gold vest, a red cravat, black jacket, matching pants and dress shoes.

  “Wow. You guys look good.” Kim said with a wink. “Don’t you think so, Joan?”

  “Huh? Oh, yea.” Joan flushed. She couldn’t take her eyes off of Dante. In fact, Dante couldn’t keep his eyes off of Joan either. The two were just standing there and staring at each other dazedly as if Kim and Alan weren’t even there.

  Kim rolled her eyes at her two clueless friends. She put her arms around Dante and Alan’s shoulders just to be coy. “Let’s get this show on the road!”

  ***

  Half an hour later, the friends were entering Casanova’s Italian Restaurant. Kim had her arm looped through Alan’s. The young pub owner was stiff and seemed nervous for some reason. The guy was so cute, and obviously had a huge crush on her. She frowned. If only she’d met Alan before Gilebert.

  Gilebert had changed. At first, it’d been perfect. Too perfect. He was such a handsome, charismatic, polite, well-mannered, classy guy. He seemed to have a lot of money too. He had a Jaguar convertible, lived in a luxurious, top-floor apartment in the heart of New York City, and took her out to eat at the finest restaurants. Gilebert pampered her, took her to the movies, and even out to the opera. The sex had been incredible in the beginning…but now…

  “Can I take your jacket?” Alan asked, his shy voice drawing her from her dark thoughts.

  She held up her hands. “Uh, no, I’m kind of cold.”

  “Oh, okay.” Alan said agreeably, though he gave her a slightly concerned look.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Kim could see that Dante was acting like a total gentleman by removing Joan’s jacket for her, and handing it over to the coat check guy. Dante handed over his own jacket and Alan handed his over as well.

  Joan looked nervous and self-conscious in her dress. Kim thought it was so cute. Joan was holding a gold and green clutch in her one hand, and looked quite elegant. Kim snapped a photo of Joan while she wasn’t looking with her smart phone’s camera, and decided to give it to Dante later. A cat’s paw smile formed on her face at the thought. She might even be able to charge him for it, or maybe she’d just get Dante to owe her a favor.

  The group had a reservation, and so a waitress was soon escorting them to their table. Their waitress was smartly dressed in a red shirt that said Casanova’s on it, and a black mini skirt. As they entered the main restaurant area, piano playing was heard, and moments later they were able to see the stage. The restaurant was a wide-open floor space with lots of round tables covered with red tablecloths, and booths. Towards the back was a long stage that took up the entire back wall. Up on that stage was a grand piano, and seated before the piano was the singer and pianist, Carmen. Her delicate fingers were flying over the piano keys as she played a passionate piece.

  Carmen was a Latin knockout, curvy, olive-skinned with long, wavy, black hair, and dark brown eyes the color of Swiss chocolate. She was wearing a low-cut, gold, evening gown and looked absolutely stunning in it. Like she belonged at the Academy Awards or sashaying her way down a red carpet.

  Alan pulled a chair out for Kim and she took a seat. Such a sweet man. She awaited the guys’ reactions to Carmen. Alan looked over, spotted Carmen, and his eyes widened in obvious admiration. Kim wasn’t sure if that look was for her skills playing the piano, or for her good looks. The supermodel felt an unexpected stab of jealousy at the way Alan was suddenly looking at Carmen. Carmen was around the same age as them and in her early twenties, a potential rival.

  Kim forced herself to look away from Alan and turned her attention towards Dante next. His attention was also focused on Carmen, but his expression was stoic. The bartender appeared to be scrutinizing Carmen…assessing her, but there was no obvious admiration or hearts in his eyes. She looked at Joan and saw that the waitress was surreptitiously looking at Dante from behind her menu, a fork clutched in her one hand. Kim almost broke out laughing and snorted. Her friend was so obvious. But Dante was totally into her friend too. She wondered what the problem was? And wondered why Dante seemed to suddenly be pushing her friend Joan away. Men.

  “So there she is - Carmen.” Kim waved her hand towards the pianist. “She’s good isn’t she?”

  “She is indeed talented.” Dante agreed with a nod.

  “She’s really good and…” Alan smiled and there was a blush to his c
heeks. He continued in a wistful tone. “Beautiful. I wonder if she’s single?”

  Kim’s jaw dropped slightly since she was surprised that Alan had the guts to ask that! She frowned. “That is besides the point. And her looks have nothing to do with anything! We’re looking for a talented musician, remember, Alan?” Her tone had turned chiding.

  All three of her friends gave Kim a surprised look at her unexpected outburst. A knowing smile curled Joan’s lips. Alan just gave her a sheepish look in return. “Er, you’re right, of course. Sorry Kim.” Alan was quick to apologize.

  Dante tapped his chin in thought. “Though her appearance doesn’t really matter, her attractiveness would be a good selling point. She could help attract more male clientele to the pub that has been filled with mostly female clientele, as of late.” He said matter-of-factly.

  A muscle beneath Joan’s eye ticked in irritation. So…Dante found Carmen ‘attractive’ did he? Joan began to unconsciously bend the fork she was holding. Uh oh.

  “Yea, what he said.” Alan swiftly agreed. “It’s a selling point. Nothing more.”

  “Uh, Miss!” Kim called their waitress over so that they could order some drinks.

  Dante decided to order them a bottle of red wine he’d spotted on the wine menu for them all to share. “We’ll have a bottle of Châteauneuf-du-pape Cuvée des Cadettes.” The demon’s friend was perfect.

  “Châteauneuf-du-pape?” Joan echoed, that wine sounded oddly familiar.

  A wistful smile curled Dante’s lips. “The Châteauneuf-du-pape has a legacy of over a thousand years. It all began with the bishop Geoffroy in the 12th Century and our setting was a tranquil place near Avignon, in the South East of France. The clergyman had a vineyard in his fiefdom of Châteauneuf, which he maintained in keeping with Roman traditions. However, this vineyard grew in importance when John XXII, after his election as a pope decided to set up the papal residence in Avignon. From Cahors, he brought with him some winegrowers to enhance the wealth of the new residence.

  “Thereby, it was at this period that the major foundations that had enabled this vineyard to gain such recognition were established. John XXII was the first to give a denomination to this wine. Before being called the Châteauneuf-du-pape, it was called: ‘le vin du pape’, or the Pope’s Wine. The reputation of the vineyard grew steadily over the centuries. The wine was even served at the court of the French Kings and was a favorite wine of King Charles VII.”

  “Ooo a wine that kings drank.” Kim cooed. “You have nice taste, Dante.”

  My King enjoyed this wine. Joan thought to herself as she remembered.

  “What else do you know about the wine, Dante? Your story was pretty interesting.” Alan put in.

  “Well…the Châteauneuf-du-pape is a blended wine and made from several grape varieties. Hundreds of years ago it was known to use the Counoise from Spain for example. Today, the Grenache is the most commonly used grape variety in Châteauneuf wine, often combined with Syrah and Mourvédre to enhance the wine’s character.”

  “I have no idea what’s he’s talking about but the wine sounds complex. Hopefully it will give me a buzz.” Kim put it with an amused expression on her face.

  The waitress returned a moment later with a stainless steel ice bucket and a bottle of wine. She opened the bottle and poured a little into each of their glasses to try first.

  Kim watched as Dante lifted his glass, swirled the wine and took a sniff. “It has an aroma reminiscent of dark berries, cherry preserves, licorice, incense and potpourri.” He took a sip and nodded. “Its flavor is rich and precise. There are sweet, deep raspberry, and blueberry undertones. There are also candied floral flavors with a strong mineral lift. It brings back memories.” He let out a wistful sigh.

  “Memories?” Kim’s interest was suddenly piqued, “Why? Did you used to drink this wine when you were in France?”

  Joan began choking on her wine. Yea, Kim, Dante probably did sample a Châteauneuf-du-pape, but one of the wines that was made over five hundred years ago.

  “Indeed.” Jeanne d’Arc very rarely drank wine but had been known to have a little upon occasion and that wine had come from the fiefdom of Châteauneuf. “How do you like the wine, Joan?”

  Joan met Dante’s eyes. “It’s exquisite.” And then she decided to mess with his mind a little. “Nostalgic.”

  Dante’s eyes narrowed at Joan then, and there was a dangerous glint in them. Kim noticed the way that Dante was looking at Joan - like he wanted to eat her up or attack her, and gulped. That’s funny. I’m getting some really weird vibes from the two of them.

  “Do you have French heritage, Dante? Sometimes I can hear a bit of a French accent coming from you.” Kim decided to point out. She’d become good at noticing French accents because of Gilebert’s heavy one.

  Dante nodded. “I was in the French Army.” Or at least this is what he’d put on his resume.

  The waitress filled their glasses and left them to decide on their entrees. She returned a few minutes later to take their orders. Dante ordered the filet mignon, rare. Alan ordered the chicken Parmesan. Joan ordered the lasagna. Kim decided to have the shrimp pesto pasta.

  Carmen’s vibrant piano playing and now singing drifted pleasantly to their ears. Carmen had a deep, sultry voice. A voice that reeked of eroticism, sensuality and sexuality. Alan was already practically drooling. Caught in her spell, hypnotized by her performance. Kim noticed and felt like bending a fork like Joan had earlier. Alan’s behavior shouldn’t even bother her. She had Gilebert after all. Whether she wanted him or not.

  Twenty minutes later their food arrived and was being set down before them. Kim twirled some pasta and shrimp around her fork and took a big bite. “Mmm.” She moaned in delight. Sometimes food was better than a man. She’d been good lately and deserved this splurge on calories. Besides, Alan had been preparing her low-calorie meals since he knew she was a model. Sweet man. She heard Joan gasp and looked up to see Dante cutting into his bloody steak. Dante cut a bite-sized piece, put it into his mouth, and groaned in delight.

  That masculine groan caused a shiver to travel down Kim’s spine. Here was another person that just oozed sensuality. If it weren’t so obvious that Joan and Dante were meant to be together Kim probably would have made a move on Dante - at least before Gilebert.

  “I like the taste of blood.” Dante rumbled in a low voice.

  Everyone’s eyes widened at that particularly strange comment, and Joan kicked Dante’s shin under the table. Idiot!

  Joan let out a nervous laugh. “He means he likes his steaks bloody. Men. Ha.” She quickly clarified.

  Dante actually looked embarrassed, “Indeed.” He agreed, and there was a slight pink tinge to his cheeks. Apparently, he’d lost himself in the pleasure of eating the filet mignon. A little blood dribbled down Dante’s chin making him look just like a vampire in Kim’s opinion. There was a darkness around Dante that she had noticed, but that she also kept silent about.

  Joan shuddered at the sight. Sexy demon. She gulped.

  Dante’s tongue came out and lapped up the blood. Joan’s pupils dilated with desire.

  Wow. Kim looked back and forth between Dante and Joan. The sexual tension between them was so thick one could probably cut it with a knife.

  At that moment, the piano playing stopped, and everyone in the restaurant started clapping. It seemed to break the spell between Joan and Dante and they tore their gazes away from each other.

  Carmen smiled, a look of pure pleasure on her face before standing up, and turning to face the restaurant patrons. She bowed, giving all the men in the establishment a nice glimpse down her dress. Carmen then stepped off the stage and began to mingle.

  “Hey Carmen, over here!” Kim called her over. Kim and Gilebert were regulars there, and so they knew Carmen relatively well. Gilebert always left a twenty-dollar bill in Carmen’s tip jar.

  Carmen turned, spotted Kim, and her luscious red lips wi
dened into a broad smile. “Kim! Amiga mia!” The pianist swiftly made her way over to their table. Kim got up and greeted Carmen with a hug. “It’s good to see you again.” Carmen looked over at Alan. “Did you finally get rid of that louse? Good because he gave me the creeps!”

  Kim’s honey-colored eyes widened in surprise. Gilebert gave Carmen the creeps? “Ah, no, um, this is Alan. He’s my boss. And I’m still going out with Gilebert actually.” The supermodel hurried to explain.

  Carmen’s expression fell, “Oh, I see. Pity.” She put her hand out for Alan to take. “Carmen. It’s nice to meet you, Alan. So you work in the modeling industry? Or let me guess…you’re a model too?”

  “Ah…no, I own an Irish pub.” Alan hedged as his cheeks began to turn pink. He couldn’t believe that Carmen thought he could be a model! “Kim waitresses there part-time.”

  “Oh, I see.” Carmen said, looking put out again before she looked Alan over as if she were undressing him with her eyes. “You look like you would be out of shape, but you actually have nice muscle definition. I can tell. Have you been working out lately?”

  “Uh, yea, actually.” Alan admitted as he scratched the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. He wasn’t used to getting so much attention from such a beautiful woman. “How can you tell that with my clothes still on?”

  Carmen laughed and it was musical. She threw the young man a wink. “It’s one of my special talents, chiquito lindo.”

  Kim cleared her throat to get Carmen’s attention. “These are my friends and coworkers - Joan and Dante. Dante is the bartender where I work.” Kim explained waving her hand towards the handsome, dark-haired man. “And my friend Joan is a waitress and unofficial manager there.” She motioned her hand towards Joan after that.

  Joan and Carmen shook hands first, and then Dante and Carmen. “Dante, is it?” Carmen’s interest was suddenly intensified. And there was a sly, sensual, mischievous look in her chocolate-brown eyes. “My…you’re incredibly handsome.” She raked her eyes over his body and seemed to be undressing him mentally. When she’d finished her eyes widened. “You have the body of a warrior! What? Were you in the military or something?”

  Dante blinked, surprised at this woman’s keen observation. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

  Carmen ran her tongue over her lips as she continued to look at Dante with an almost predatory look in her eyes now. “You look like a vampire in that get up, you know? I would think that someone like you would wear something a little more low-key. But whatever. So you’re a bartender? I’d love for you to make me a drink sometime.”

  Dante offered her a charming smile. “I would be delighted.”

  “Carmen, there’s actually a reason why we’re here. I wanted Alan to hear you play tonight because I think it’d be awesome if you could play at Dullahan’s.” Kim began to explain with a hopeful expression on her face.

  Carmen’s teasing expression faltered. “Dullahan’s? Did you just say Dullahan’s? The pub Alan owns is Dullahan’s?”

  Wow. She’d just said the pub’s name three times. “That’s right.” Kim was giving Carmen a confused look. She didn’t think the place had a bad reputation or anything. In fact, its popularity seemed to be growing lately thanks to Dante’s wicked bartending skills and Fred’s awesome cooking.

  “And you want to know if I’d be interested in playing there?” Carmen said in a wary tone.

  “Yep.” Kim replied, still not understanding Carmen’s sudden reluctance.

  The Latin beauty shook her head. “No way Jose.”

  Kim blinked at Carmen in confusion. “No? But why?”

  Carmen frowned and shot Alan an accusing look. He flinched and looked guilty. “Your boss didn’t tell you, I take it? Dullahan’s…is haunted. Some say the place is cursed. Every musician who has worked there has died a horrible, bloody, gruesome death.” She revealed, and shuddered, rubbing her hands over her arms.

  The blood was draining from Alan’s face, and he swayed in his seat. He reached his hand into his jacket pocked, pulled out his inhaler and took a deep breath.

  Kim noticed what Alan was doing and thought that definitely looked suspicious. “Haunted? That’s ridiculous. There’s no such thing as ghosts.” Kim said, in a determined tone while giving Alan a worried look. She didn’t know that Alan even had asthma.

  “Everyone in the music industry knows about it. We all know to stay far away from Dullahan’s. I would be careful if I were you, Kim. Some say the owner of Dullahan’s has a pact with the devil.” Carmen said matter-of-factly.

  “That’s crazy!” Joan spoke up. “I haven’t seen, I mean, the place is not haunted.” At least not anymore. It does currently have a demon though. But, no big.

  Alan having a pact with the devil? That was just ridiculous. “Carmen, you’re being unreasonable. There’s no way that’s true.” Kim insisted. Alan was the kindest, sweetest person she knew. And besides, she didn’t believe in all of that supernatural mumbo jumbo. “Someone must be spreading vicious lies about the pub around - rumors. Why don’t you just come and see the restaurant for yourself before you make up your mind. You can see for yourself that the place isn’t haunted. Please.” Kim gave Carmen a beseeching look.

  “I…” Carmen faltered. She liked Kim. She really did but…Dullahan’s? She shuddered again.

  Dante stood up and met Carmen’s eyes. “Please, just come and see the place for yourself. I want to make you a drink.”

  “It will be on the house of course.” Alan added hastily.

  “And besides, if there is some kind of evil spirit there - I’ll protect you.” Dante said firmly with an intense look in his golden eyes as he stared into Carmen’s brown ones. “I promise you.”

  Carmen blushed and then she sighed. “Alright, fine, I’ll go for one drink sometime tomorrow night. I’ll see the place for myself then. Perhaps, you’re right and they’re just malicious rumors. Well, I hope that’s the case anyways.” She threw Dante a wink before she sashayed to another table to greet more of her fans.

  Kim gave Dante a thumbs-up. “Quick thinking, Dante. You got that fish on your hook. Now you just have to reel her in.”

  “Indeed.” Dante smirked. He’d noticed Carmen’s interest in him, and although he wasn’t interested in her…he could use her interest to his own advantage, especially if that meant that he could help Alan get a new pianist for Dullahan’s.

  “No!” Joan burst out abruptly, and blushed when she realized she’d spoken aloud. Whoops. “I mean, never mind.” I’m not jealous. Joan’s attention turned to Alan. He didn’t look so good. “You okay, Alan?”

  “I’m fine.” He fainted right out of his chair.

  “Check please!” Kim called out.

  ***

  Kim and Joan returned to their apartments while Alan returned to Dullahan’s alone. He opened the front door, stepped inside, and let out a heavy sigh. The double date with Kim had been going great until Carmen. Carmen had been so beautiful, sensual, and seductive that Alan had momentarily and foolishly forgotten his worries about trying to hire a musician to perform at Dullahan’s. But of course Carmen had brought his worries to the to the forefront of his mind. What must his friends think of him? He wondered. Surely, they thought he’d been hiding the fact that people thought Dullahan’s was haunted.

  The young pub owner rubbed his temples and hung his head in defeat. Anxiety began to swirl in the pit of his stomach at the thought of his friends leaving him because they would think that Alan didn’t trust them.

  “Boss.” Came a deep voice.

  Alan jumped and nearly fainted, a scream dying on his lips as he looked up to see Dante. He put a hand over his rapidly rising and falling chest. “Dante? What are you doing here?”

  Dante raised an eyebrow at Alan due to the question. “Why, I’m here for our training session, of course.”

  Over the past few weeks, everyday after work, Dante and Alan went down to the basement of Dullahan’s
and trained in self-defense, hand-to-hand combat, and various martial arts.

  At first, Alan couldn’t even throw a punch let alone dodge one. But Dante was a good teacher, patient, but also merciless. He’d ‘beaten’ Alan down and made him stand up again and again. Presently, Alan could actually throw a punch, take a punch, and even dodge the occasional punch. That is if Dante was holding back, which Alan could tell Dante was totally doing every time he managed it.

  Alan blinked at Dante in surprise. “Aren’t you going to ask me about earlier?”

  Dante’s eyebrow arched higher. “Should I?”

  Alan stared at Dante and let out a breath of relief. “No.”

  A half-smile formed on Dante’s lips and he ran his tongue over his teeth. “Then let us go to the basement and begin tonight’s training session.” Dante’s blood was already pumping through his veins at a more rapid pace at the prospect of sparring with Alan. He loved fighting and Alan was improving at an impressive rate. Soon the young man might actually present a challenge to Dante and he’d have a true sparring partner.

  Alan could feel Dante’s excitement and it made him nervous. “Okay.” He could tell the bartender wasn’t going to go easy on him again.

  Alan followed Dante down into Dullahan’s basement. The place had been a complete mess, but Dante had cleaned it up pretty quickly and even renovated it. Now the basement looked like a combination private gym and training room. There was a rack that held barbells of various sizes, a treadmill, an exercise bike, a punching bag hanging from the ceiling, and a bench press. The entire floor was covered with padded mats.

  This had been a good decision since the few times Dante had thrown Alan he’d gone sailing across the entire basement. There was a cabinet filled with a variety of sporting equipment, and a couple of cardboard boxes filled with all of the junk that had cluttered the basement before the renovation. Alan thought the basement was a whole lot less scary than it had been before. Dante had even painted the walls and ceiling a cheery, baby blue.

  When Dante had started their very first lesson, he’d put on these square-shaped, padded gloves and taught Alan how to raise his fists in front of him, and get into the proper stance. After that he’d taught Alan how to throw a punch, and how to block a punch with his forearms. After Alan had the basics down Dante had thrown Alan a pair of boxing gloves and had put on a pair of boxing gloves himself. Then he’d motioned for Alan to attack him, and told the young man to try to land a punch on him.

  For the next hour, Alan had tried to land a hit on Dante. It had been impossible. Dante was just too fast. This had continued until Dante said they would suddenly practice blocking and then he’d attacked Alan.

  Alan had blinked and then Dante had been in front of him, throwing a straight right at his face. Alan brought his forearms up to block the blow and was sent flying backwards. He fell onto the padded floor. Dante sure was strong. He wondered if it was normal, but shrugged it off.

  Dante had also explained to Alan the targets one was supposed to first go for when attacked by an enemy - eyes, throat, and lastly crotch. Once one got better one could go for a more complex target like the back of someone’s neck or his carotid. An exact blow there would knock a person out cold. A hard blow to a person’s solar plexus could also knock out a person.

  Alan blushed at the idea of kicking or kneeing someone in the crotch. He was already having sympathy pains. “But…won’t that hurt a lot?” Alan had piped up.

  “That’s the idea.” Dante had drawled, a tinge of amusement in his voice.

  Presently, Alan watched Dante stroll over to the storage cabinet, open it up, and take out their boxing gloves. Alan had changed into a sweatshirt, sweatpants, and sneakers. Dante remained in his suit since he claimed that he wouldn’t break a sweat and so it didn’t matter what he was wearing. Dante put on the gloves and then tossed Alan his. Alan fumbled to catch the gloves and put them on. Dante made his way over to the center of the floor and got into a fighting stance.

  Alan made his way over, stood a few feet away from Dante, got into a fighting stance of his own, and put his fists up. When he’d first done this he’d trembled like a leaf. Now he knew more or less what to expect during a training session with the bartender, and was less nervous and afraid.

  “Attack me.” Dante instructed.

  Alan let out a cry as he charged at Dante and threw a punch at the bartender’s head. Dante easily dodged the punch tilting his head to the side. Dante’s reflexes never failed to impress Alan, but he didn’t give up. He threw punch after punch at Dante who continued to lithely dodge the attacks with the barest amount of movement. After ten minutes, Alan was already panting for breath.

  “My turn.” Dante suddenly said and rushed forward to attack Alan.

  Alan’s eyes widened in fright and he put his hands up. “W-Wait! I’m not ready! I’m not mentally prepared yet!” He complained as Dante was instantly in front of him and sending a jab towards his stomach.

  If Alan let that blow connect he was going to lose his dinner! Alan hopped backwards and narrowly avoided the blow. I did it! Alan thought to himself elated, however, Dante was far from finished. He attacked again and aimed for Alan’s head this time. “I said ‘wait’!” Alan complained as he raised his forearm and blocked the blow.

  Dante gave Alan a surprised, prideful look. “Not bad. Keep it up.” He attacked Alan again.

  Alan blocked, dodged, and ran from Dante’s attacks. He probably looked pretty ridiculous and cowardly but…at least Dante’s fierce attacks weren’t connecting. That had to count for something, right?

  But then Dante was in front of Alan and his fist was flying towards Alan’s face.

  Alan raised his forearms to block the attack. Bam. Alan was sent flying backwards and onto the mat with an ‘oof’. He was sweating, panting for breath, and utterly exhausted. He sat up and looked at Dante, slightly dazed.

  The bartender on the other hand looked as cool as a cucumber. He wasn’t sweating nor out of breath, and looked completely unrumpled. Alan pouted. Dante was so cool. The man was not only strong but charismatic and skilled.

  Dante made his way over to the mini refrigerator, and took out a bottle of water, which he tossed Alan’s way. Alan fumbled to catch it. He opened the bottle and took a swig. The cool liquid slid down his parched throat deliciously. He was surprised that water could taste so good.

  “You’re improving.” Dante complimented.

  Alan beamed.

  “But you still have a long way to go.”

  Alan’s expression fell. “I know.” He murmured as he drank his water and tried not to look at the door.

  Down in the basement there was a strange red-painted door that Alan wasn’t allowed to open. Well, Alan hadn’t been allowed in the basement of Dullahan’s at all in fact when his parents, and brother had been alive. The one time his brother George had found him down there he’d beaten the crap out of Alan, and warned him that if he ever opened that red door again that he’d kill Alan. He gulped at the frightening memory.

  Alan hadn’t mentioned the door to Dante but apparently the man had paid it no mind while doing the renovation of the basement and hadn’t even asked about it.

  “What are you looking at?” Dante asked suddenly, noticing that Alan was staring at a particular section of wall space with a fearful expression on his face, though there was nothing there.

  “The door,” Alan revealed, hesitantly.

  “Door? What door? This is no-” Dante was saying when abruptly he could see it - a red-painted, wooden door with iron hinges. The paint on the door was peeling and the door looked ancient. Dante blinked. The door hadn’t been there before, and now it was suddenly visible. Dante strode towards the door. “What’s behind that door, Alan?”

  “I don’t know,” Alan murmured as he wrapped his arms around his torso unconsciously.

  “Then let’s find out,” Dante reached his hand out towards the doorknob.

&nbs
p; This action caused Alan to leap to his feet, run over to Dante, and grab his arm. “No! You mustn’t open the door!” Alan’s voice was full of fear.

  Dante turned to give Alan a surprised, searching look. “Why not?”

  Even as they spoke Dante had the odd sensation that they were being watched. It caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end. And this feeling was coming from the door.

  “My brother forbid me from opening that door, Dante. We can’t.” There was a tremor in Alan’s voice.

  “Your brother is dead. And we can.” Dante insisted.

  Alan was trembling in trepidation now. He too could feel that heated stare upon him, coming from that door. But he found himself nodding.

  Dante reached out, grabbed the doorknob, and opened the door. It creaked loudly as it was opened, and a musty wind blew past them eerily.

  Dante and Alan peered inside the chamber but it was pitch-black inside. If Alan weren’t with him Dante would have used a fireball to illuminate the chamber, as it was…he would have to figure something out. “We’re going to need flashlights.”

  “R-Right. I’ll go get them.” Alan offered before making his way to the storage cabinet and rummaging around until he found two flashlights. He returned three minutes later with the two flashlights in hand. He handed one to Dante. The men turned their flashlights on and entered the chamber.

  It was a rather large room, about half the size of the basement. The floor was soft, damp dirt and crumbling stone. The air inside of the chamber smelled moldy and of decay. The walls looked like cobbled stones or bricks. There was an old, wooden shelving unit with strange objects on its shelves - candles that had been burned down half way, boxes of matches, and books that looked ancient.

  Alan’s eyes were drawn to a small stone altar next, and the sinister looking athame (ritual dagger) that was lying on top of it. As Dante and Alan pointed their flashlights at the ground before the altar it was to reveal that there was a large, red circle with strange symbols written inside of it that had been drawn on the dirt floor with some kind of red ink. Alan frowned. What the hell is that?

  Dante knew what it was as soon as he saw it - a magic circle. And that was no ordinary magic circle either, but a demon-summoning circle. Dante knelt before the circle and reached his hand out to touch the red swirls. He rubbed his thumb and index finger together. It was blood. Human blood.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Alan asked, voice quavering.

  “Yes.” Dante’s voice was grim. “It’s blood.”

  The circle had been drawn in human blood. Alan felt faint.

  Dante stood and turned to face Alan with a slightly accusatory look on his face. “Alan, why is there a demon-summoning circle here?”

  Alan paled at Dante’s strange words that didn’t make any sense, and he shook his head. “Demon…what? I don’t know. I swear! I was never even allowed down here, remember?” Alan was beginning to feel like he was having one of his nightmares. He pinched his arm just in case he was still sleeping. “Ow.” Apparently, he was wide-awake, unfortunately.

  Dante’s eyes narrowed at Alan but he could tell the young man was telling the truth. The only humans who could summon a demon were those who’d made a contract with a demon. Aka those witches or warlocks who’d sold their soul to the devil or a demon in exchange for something.

  What the hell is going on? Dante had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. If what he thought was correct then…Alan could be in grave danger. At that moment, Dante spotted two safes at the back of the chamber. He approached the first and tried it. It was locked. Thanks to Alan’s fear of being inside the chamber Dante currently had superhuman strength and was able to force the door of the safe open. “It was open.” Dante lied before shinning his flashlight inside of the safe and frowning. “Alan, come over here and take a look at this.”

  Alan made his way over to Dante’s side and crouched down so that he could peer into the safe. His eyes bugged. There were stacks and stacks of money. Hundred dollar bills. There was probably at least a million dollars in the safe.

  Neither Dante nor Alan made a move to get the money, however. “Alan, do you have any idea where this money came from? Or what’s it’s for?”

  Alan shook his head, looking lost. “Hell no.”

  “I see.” Dante worried his fingers over his jaw in thought. “It would be better, I think, if you did not touch this money. There could be dire consequences if you do. Understand, Alan?”

  Alan nodded. He trusted Dante’s judgment. “Y-Yes. I won’t touch it.”

  “Good. And don’t tell anyone about it either. We’ll just leave it down here.” Dante closed the safe and turned to the other safe next. He reached out to pry the front open, however, as soon as Dante’s fingers brushed against the safe it glowed with a red light and Dante was suddenly sent flying backwards by a tremendous shockwave of magical power.

  “Dante!” Alan called out in concern as he watched Dante being blasted back by an unseen force.

  Dante sat up, dazed. There’s a protection spell on that safe. I cannot open it. Only a witch would be able to open that safe. Jeanne…

  “Are you alright?” Alan asked as he approached the bartender. Dante looked up to see that Alan was offering him his hand and he allowed Alan to help him up. “I’m fine. Don’t touch that safe. It’s cursed.”

  “C-Cursed?” Alan wrung his hands together. “Then what people are saying about this place is true? My pub really is cursed? That sucks.” This was getting weirder and weirder.

  “That’s putting it lightly, my friend. Come on, let’s get the hell out of here.” Dante grabbed Alan’s arm and dragged him from the chamber. Dante could feel a pair of eyes drilling holes into his back. Dante shut the red door behind Alan and glared at the door fiercely. What the hell was going on? What had Alan’s brother George been up to? Bloody hell. Alan could be in danger because of his brother’s meddling in the occult.

  “Alan. Do not enter that chamber. Ever. It’s dangerous.” Dante advised with a tone that brooked no argument.

  Alan gulped. “What happened in there? Why does that place feel so…evil?”

  “The less you know the better.” Dante rumbled.

  Alan frowned. Once again he was being kept in the dark about the family secrets but…he was the last Dullahan left and he had a feeling those dark secrets would soon be catching up to him.

  ***

  The next day at Dullahan’s, when noon rolled around, Joan and Kim shared a look. They’d decided they wanted answers, but they didn’t want to ask Alan, who looked paler than usual that day. Instead, they’d decided to both go to the library during their lunch break. They asked Hilda to handle any customers for them since it was a particularly slow day and luckily she agreed.

  Joan drove Kim to the nearest library. The night before, Joan had collected a list of names of musicians who had worked at Dullahan’s and the dates of their deaths online. Some of the articles had been available to read online, but Joan decided she wanted to see the original newspaper articles that had been printed in the New York Times. Online newspaper articles were oftentimes altered or censored, and Joan wanted to learn the truth. The girls entered the library, and immediately headed to the microfilm section. The microfilm section was a large area filled with cabinets that contained microfilm. They consulted the posted guide that displayed the arrangement of the microfilm geographically by state and then alphabetically by city.

  They got the microfilms for the New York Times during the dates that they needed and made their way over to the microfilm reader. The microfilm reader worked as a projection screen, which allowed for the viewing of microfilm at different magnifications.

  Joan took out a microfilm, unscrolled it as she attached it to the machine, and then began to scroll through the newspaper as she looked for the articles she wanted to read. “Hey, look at this. This is the most recent article we want to read. It’s about Alan’s brother�
�s death. I decided we might learn something from reading it.” Kim peered over Joan’s shoulder as the two girls began to read the article.

  The article was a blurb about George Dullahan’s death. Apparently, he’d been in a horrific car accident. George had been driving behind a truck that was transporting steel pipes when he’d hit the truck from behind. A pipe had fallen off, smashed through George’s windshield, and had decapitated him.

  “Accidentally decapitated?” Joan murmured to herself as she read the words on the screen. She didn’t like the sound of that at all. She also couldn’t help thinking about the headless horsewoman she’d seen on Halloween and how she’d ridden out of Dullahan’s front window. Coincidence? A dream? A hallucination? Or reality?

  “Poor Alan,” Kim said as she read the article. “Let’s keep reading. The next article we want to find is the one about Alan’s parents.”

  The girls found the article they wanted and discovered that Alan’s parents had died in a plane crash. Their bodies had been found decapitated and their heads were never found. Again, the article stated that it had been an ‘accidental decapitation’. This time shrapnel from the plane had apparently cut off their heads during the explosion.

  “Another ‘accidental decapitation’.” Kim shuddered. “Let’s keep going.”

  The next article the girls read was about a musician - a female guitarist who had worked for Dullahan’s for about a year before she was killed in a violent mugging. She’d been killed on St. Patrick’s Day. The mugger had cut off her head and the head was never found.

  “Oh, come on, ‘accidental decapitation’ again?” Kim spoke up, and the skepticism was clear in her tone. “During a mugging? We’re supposed to believe this bull?”

  “Hmm.” Joan hummed. She was already beginning to realize that these decapitations were no accident. It must have been the work of a dullahan. But why? “There’s more.”

  They read on to discover that a year before that, also on St. Patrick’s Day, a female singer who’d worked at Dullahan’s was in a terrible sailing accident. Her neck had been caught in the ropes and her head severed from her body. Again, it had been an ‘accidental decapitation’ and her head was never found.

  The year before that, on St. Patrick’s Day, a female violinist who worked at Dullahan’s supposedly committed suicide. She’d hung herself with her violin strings. The strings had cut through the girl’s neck and her head mysteriously disappeared from the morgue later on.

  “I think I’m going to be sick.” Kim placed a hand over her mouth as she read the detailed descriptions about how these female musicians had died one after the other.

  “It just keeps going.” Joan flipped through article after article while turning the knob of the microfilm reader. “There are so many of them.” Joan said darkly as she continued to read. “Every year on St. Patrick’s Day the current musician who is working at Dullahan’s dies a mysterious death - an accidental decapitation. And their heads always mysteriously disappear.”

  Kim frowned. “But why? Why is this happening? And why only on St. Patrick’s Day? And why did the Dullahan family only hire female musicians? What the hell is going on? This is like something out of a fantasy book. It’s like Dullahan’s really is cursed or something. Or haunted or whatever.” Kim looked over at her friend with a helpless look on her face. “You don’t think Dullahan’s is really haunted do you? Maybe by that headless horsewoman?”

  Joan shot her friend a sharp look, surprised that she’d figured things out that far. “Why do you think that? I thought you didn’t believe in supernatural stuff?”

  Kim shrugged. “I don’t but…it just makes sense. Alan says he has dreams about a headless horsewoman. Nightmares. Every night. That’s what the pub’s logo is based on - his dreams. I know you probably think I’m crazy to even consider this but…”

  “I don’t think you’re crazy.” Joan quickly assured. “Even if Dullahan’s is haunted by a dullahan why are the musicians killed? That is the real question. There’s got to be something behind all of this.”

  “But why were Alan’s parents and brother killed instead of musicians?” Kim wondered aloud.

  “Carmen mentioned that every musician in New York knows that Dullahan’s is cursed at this point. No one wants to work for Alan. Maybe…they died because there was no musician to take their place.” Joan mused aloud.

  “This is beginning to sound a lot like human sacrifice, Joan.” Kim shuddered, wrapped her arms around her body, and looked small and lost.

  Joan immediately wanted to comfort her friend and reassure her. “Or all this could just be over-exaggerated rumors and coincidence.” Joan suggested. She didn’t want Kim to worry. “Reporters will say anything if it’ll make a good story. Or if it will make them some money. Alan wouldn’t hurt a fly. You know that.”

  “Yea, you’re right.” Kim smiled but then her smiled faltered. “What if Alan is in danger?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll protect him.” Joan said firmly. I’ll get to the bottom of this. Dullahan’s is definitely cursed. But why? Kim’s right. Alan could be in danger. And Carmen too if she decides to work there. I have to protect them. It’s my duty as Jeanne d’Arc. Joan turned off the microfilm machine. “Let’s get back to work.”

  When Joan and Kim returned to Dullahan’s, Kim couldn’t even bear to look Alan in the eyes. Alan noticed that Kim was avoiding him, and looked crestfallen. Joan sighed. Her friend was so obvious. Poor Alan. Whatever was going on, Joan was almost positive it wasn’t Alan’s fault. Like no way. Hell no.

  That same day at nine o’clock PM, the bell above the front door of Dullahan’s jingled as Carmen made her way inside. She was wearing a long, black leather jacket, which she took off and hung on a hook by the door. Beneath her jacket she was wearing a red Latina style dress with spaghetti straps, and lots of ruffles on the bottom of the knee-length skirt. She had a pair of red stilettos on her feet. The pianist was showing a lot of skin considering it was December.

  Carmen’s dark gaze looked around the pub until it fell upon Dante. Her red-painted lips curled into a seductive smile at the sight of the handsome bartender. Carmen sashayed over to the bar and took a seat. “Hello Dante.” She crossed her legs.

  Dante looked up and met Carmen’s dark eyes. His eyes widened slightly as he recognized her, “Carmen. I didn’t think you would come.”

  “Well, I did.” Carmen flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I was…curious about this place and besides, you promised to make me a drink.”

  “That I did.” Dante’s golden eyes sparkled. “What would you like?”

  “Surprise me,” Carmen said teasingly. “Mi corazon.”

  “Alright then. A beautiful woman needs a beautiful cocktail.” Dante agreed and began to make Carmen a Six Cycle. Dante grabbed a stemmed glass and a shaker tin, and set both down on the bar. He grabbed a bottle of white rum, flipped the bottle, and poured one and a half ounces of the liquor into the tin. Dante grabbed a bottle of Maraschino liqueur by its neck, tossed the bottle behind him so that it went up and over his shoulder, and then Dante caught the bottle on his forearm in a stall before bumping the bottle into a pouring position. He added half an ounce of Maraschino liqueur to the tin. He added two and a half ounces of orange juice to the tin, and shook the mixture. He added this mixture to the stemmed wine glass.

  Dante grabbed the bottle of grenadine, flipped the bottle, and poured half an ounce into the glass so that it formed a layer of red liquid beneath the yellow layer. Dante grabbed a bottle of champagne and poured two and a half ounces of champagne into his shaker tin. Dante grabbed the bottle of Blue Curacao, tossed the bottle behind his back, caught it with his other hand, and poured half an ounce of Blue Curacao into the shaker tin. Dante grabbed a spoon and held it over the stemmed glass. He then poured the blue-tinted mixture over the spoon so that it was added to the drink. This created a top layer of green, blue and white foam.

  Dante’s movements had be
en fast, fluid, impressive, mesmerizing. Carmen’s eyes had widened as she watched Dante prepare her drink and even do a few flair bartending tricks. Cute. Real cute. A demon showing off that he can mix drinks. Carmen licked her lips. He looked good enough to eat. And she hadn’t eaten in so long. She was very hungry.

  Dante set the layered rainbow colored drink down before Carmen with a flourish. “Enjoy, Mademoiselle.”

  “Oh, I will. It’s beautiful. Very colorful.” Carmen said without taking her eyes off of Dante and taking a sip of her drink. “Mmm. It’s good. What is this drink called?”

  “I found the drink’s recipe on the internet. It’s called a Six Cycle. It thought it would be a fun drink to learn.” Dante admitted. “I also wanted a drink with some red in it to compliment that lovely dress you are wearing.”

  “How thoughtful of you.” She took another sip of her drink. “Delicious.” She purred while looking into Dante’s eyes.

  Dante blinked. He wasn’t sure if Carmen was talking about the drink or him now. He had to admit that Carmen was an incredibly attractive female but…ever since Jeanne d’Arc no woman could compare. They just felt…wrong. “I’m glad you like it. Well, what do you think of the pub?”

  Carmen looked around the place and shrugged. “It looks more normal than I thought it would. It definitely doesn’t look haunted. But then again…” She turned her gaze back to Dante. “Appearances can be very deceiving, can’t they, Dante?” She cooed.

  Dante raised an eyebrow at Carmen and wondered just what she was implying.

  Meanwhile, Joan was watching Carmen and Dante’s interaction enviously and was beginning to get slightly pissed off. She’d never felt jealous before with the other girls that came to see Dante but…there was something about this woman that set her on edge. I don’t trust her…Miss Big Boobs Latina. Hmph! The woman should have had a sign hanging off her rear end, which read: Latin Women Have Curves. She grit her teeth.

  Alan spotted Carmen and made his way over to her. “Carmen, it’s nice to see you again. Thank you for coming and taking the time to visit my pub.”

  Carmen turned her gaze towards the shy young man. “Hello Alan. It’s nice to see you again too. And you’re welcome.”

  “Do you like your drink?” Alan asked nervously.

  “Delicioso. It’s delectable.” Carmen gushed. “And so is your bartender.”

  Alan grinned and his blue eyes twinkled with amusement. Dante was definitely a lady killer, even though he didn’t try to be. “Don’t forget it’s on the house.”

  “Well, Alan, I have to say that your pub looks much more normal than I thought it would. I’m considering working here.” Carmen said off-handedly.

  Alan paled. “Carmen, what if you’re right and Dullahan’s really is cursed? What if working for me puts you in danger? I don’t know if the rumors are true or if the things that have happened here are coincidence or something more. But if something were to happen to you…I couldn’t live with myself.”

  A thick silence hung in the air. Everyone was clearly surprised by Alan’s bold, straightforward words.

  Carmen laughed and it was musical. She reached out and stroked Alan’s cheek fondly. “Such a kind young man. I can’t believe you just told me that you think your own pub might be cursed. That was very chivalrous of you. You don’t encounter very many men like you these days. I think just because of that…I will work here.”

  Alan’s expression fell, “Carmen…I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

  “Nonsense!” Carmen waved her hand dismissively through the air and Alan noticed that she’d painting her fingernails a fire engine red. “Dante here has already promised me that he’ll protect me. Isn’t that right, Dante?”

  Dante nodded. “Indeed. If there is a ghost I will protect you from it, Carmen. You have my word.”

  “I-I’ll protect you too!” Alan spoke up, flushed. “I promise.”

  Carmen smiled revealing her pearly white teeth. Her dark brown eyes twinkled, and she kissed Alan’s cheek. “What a sweet Boss I have now.” Her red lipstick left the imprint of a kiss mark on his cheek.

  Kim’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t believe Carmen had just kissed Alan…just like that!

  Alan’s cheeks reddened, and he felt very hot and tingly all of a sudden. He swallowed thickly. If he didn’t know any better Alan would say he was aroused. But since when did a mere kiss on the cheek arouse him? I really need to get laid.

  Kim stalked over and pulled Alan away from Carmen unexpectedly.

  Carmen smiled mischievously when she caught sight of Kim. “Kim! It’s good to see you, amiga mia!” Her eyes narrowed in on how Kim had her arm wrapped around Alan’s now. “Broke up with Gilebert yet?”

  Kim blushed and quickly let go of Alan’s arm. “No.”

  “Pity.” Carmen said with a sigh. “I really don’t like him.”

  I’ll help protect you from the female dullahan too, Carmen. Even if I don’t like you. Joan thought to herself.

  To be continued…in Drink 11: Chocolate Raspberry Martini

  Dantalion: “Good evening, lowly human, so you wish to learn how to make a Six Cycle - the most beautiful drink ever? First, mix 1 1/2 ounces of white rum, 1/2 an ounce of Maraschino liqueur, and 2 ounces of orange juice together and add this mixture to a glass. After that add 1/2 an ounce of Grenadine to the glass so that there is a red layer of red liquid at the bottom of the glass. Then mix 1/2 an ounce of Blue Curacao and 2 1/2 ounces of champagne together before then adding this blue-tinted mixture to your glass using a spoon. This will add layers of green, blue and white foam to the drink. The drink will ultimately have a red layer at the bottom, then a yellow layer, a green layer, a blue layer and lastly a layer of foam. Enjoy! Don’t forget that the legal drinking age is 21 and to drink responsibly.”