by Alex Temples
Brin gazed thoughtfully back at her friend and considered this. “I know how it works. I guess I’m just burnt out. I want to enjoy all of the wasteful, reckless experiences other people do at this age.”
Sam looked at her like she was crazy. “You don’t want those experiences, Brin. Trust me. They’re completely overrated. Those experiences typically involve consuming too much alcohol and sleeping with too many men.” An amused smile played on her lips.
“They may be overrated, but I want to learn for myself. I finally have the career I dreamt of as a child and I don’t feel any sense of completeness, any satisfaction. It feels wrong, Sam. Like I’m missing something important.”
Aiden heard the longing in her words. He understood. She craved something deeply, something she couldn’t name. It was a feeling he had often.
Sam patted her friend’s shoulder. “Okay, honey. I believe you. If you think you need to experience it yourself, you probably do. We’re going out tonight. Emma found the perfect place – a new Western bar that just opened. It’s called Stampede. I’ll text her and let her know we’re coming. What do you say – is 9 o’clock too early?”
Brin smiled gratefully and shook her head. “No, that’s perfect.”
Aiden couldn’t help but smile as well. Stampede. Perfect. He would have to figure out what a mortal wore to a Western bar. It sounded like just the place to accidentally run into her. Satisfied, he stood and headed in the direction of the men’s clothing store he’d seen earlier.
***
“No skipping the line!” A deep voice growled. Aiden watched as the bouncer pluck a skinny twenty-something guy in a red shirt off the steps as he tried to sneak past the rope divider.
He was in his element now. He loved the club scene, having spent most of his time on earth at some of the finest clubs in the world. He wore dark washed designer jeans and a blue button down. He’d finished the look with a rugged cowboy hat, straight from the catalog cover of the Ralph Lauren store he’d visited. He’d let a five o’clock shadow grow, giving him a rugged appearance.
A large group of women stood in front of him. One wore a white sash across her chest with the word “bride” scrawled in pink cursive. Perfect. Bachelorette parties were always a guarantee of a good time. One of the bridesmaids, a tall, black-haired beauty with long lashes and red lipstick, glanced back at him, shamelessly running her eyes up and down his body.
Aiden winked at her.
She giggled and looked away.
It was really was too easy.
The bouncer gave the girls a once over and nodded, unlatching the rope so they could slip past. He closed it behind them, glacing up at Aiden.
“Too many men in there already, sir. You’re gonna have to wait until someone comes out.”
The burly man before him was clearly ex-military. His head was shaven and he had a unit tattoo on his neck. Aiden admired the warriors of the earth, even if they were mere mortals. They had a perspective on life most others didn’t. They saw their mortality with the starkness of those who’d had to face their own death.
Aiden nodded.
“No problem. You been out here long?” He adopted the cadence of casual conversation he’d been listening to around him. With his ability to see people, he was also adept at picking up the mannerisms and speech patterns of those around him, often switching from one language to another with little effort.
The bouncer shrugged, looking relieved that he hadn’t argued and tried to sneak past like the others.
“Nah, not long, man. We just opened. I’ve got a new baby at home though and I’m beat.” The bouncer rubbed the back of his head. His eyes were bloodshot as if he hadn’t slept in a while.
Aiden nodded sympathetically. “That’s rough. Is it a boy or a girl?”
“It’s a boy.” The bouncer replied with pride. “Born six days ago, 9 ½ pounds. My wife just got out of the hospital th day before yesterday. Difficult birth you know. I’d rather be home with her, but the bills gotta get paid somehow.”
He gestured around, as if to indicate why he was there.
Aiden smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I understand.” He understood only in theory of course. He imagined it must be terrible to be a mortal and be imprisoned by the chains that came with lacking a personal fortune.
The bouncer seemed to appreciate his sympathy, considering him briefly before reaching for the rope divider. He gestured Aiden forward.
“Go ahead, man. Enjoy. There are some fine women on the floor this evening.” He grinned at Aiden as if they shared some sort of inside joke and held the rope open for him.
“Thanks, man. Congratulations on the baby.”
The bouncer nodded his thanks and Aiden wandered up the stairs into the pulsating abyss.
He’d heard tales of the American Wild West. The inside of the club looked as he imagined a Western bar would look. Wide, brown hardwood floors were dotted with men and women in Western clothing. The room was large and very open, with small cocktail tables in one corner, a dance floor in the center and an enormous, round bar taking up the entire right side of the club. Next to the bar sat a large, metal bull.
Aiden marveled at the mechanical contraption. It was rocking and gyrating back and forth. There was a line on one side, and a perky, young woman dressed in cut-off jean shorts and a red and white checked top was taking someone’s money.
With a bit of a double take, Aiden saw who stood at the front of the line. The redhead handed her money over to the perky woman. She walked around the rope circle cordoning off the bull, heading straight towards it.
Aiden moved closer to observe.
She’d changed out of the clothes she’d worn earlier. Now her red hair was woven into two braids, hanging over each shoulder. She wore a thin red tank top and tight black shorts with cowboy boots.
He admired the way her top clung to her curves and took a deep breath as he fought his rising desire. He glanced at the other men standing around and saw their gazes on her. She was the center of attention.
She swung herself up onto the bull, as her friend Sam cheered from the sidelines. The bull began to rock back and forth.
Aiden gulped as he watched her hips rock with it.
“Woo hoo. Ride it baby!” Sam shouted, waving one fist in the air and sloshing a bit of liquid out of the margarita glass in her other hand.
A cheer went up from the crowd gathered around and Aiden found himself grinning as he watched his quarry cling to the bull – it’s movements faster and faster. Her hips rocked with is.
He had to hand it to her – she had a natural grace. Her body moved like liquid, in tune with the mechanical monster beneath her, her breasts straining against her tight top. She was laughing and smiling, a completely different person then the one he’d seen in the park.
Aiden stared, in awe of the desire she sparked in him. There was something special about her. He wasn’t the only man to noticed this, as the group of men around the bullpen was growing rapidly. They watched her, eyes dark with desire. For some inexplicable reason, their longing irritated him.
Shrugging off this ridiculous feeling, he went to the bar and ordered himself a single malt, paying for it and settling onto one of the black leather bar stools.
“Hey there.”
Aiden looked up to see the black-haired beauty from the line standing next to him. Her dress left nothing to the imagination.
“Hi there.” He took in her form appreciatively.
“Is this seat taken?” She asked gesturing next to him. He groaned internally. He didn’t have time to spend flirting with women. He only had this evening to meet the girl and win her over.
“I’m afraid so, sweetheart.” He shrugged helplessly. “I’m meeting my wife.”
Her jaw dropped as she looked him up and down. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
Aiden smiled at her. “You’re very beautiful. I’m sure you won’t have a hard time finding trouble elsewhere.” He winked again and turned back to his drink.
> The woman stood there for a moment as if not sure what to do. Finally, she smiled at his compliment and turned away, disappearing in the direction of the dance floor.
Aiden relaxed back into his chair, tilting and turning the tumbler in his hand and watching the scotch coat the sides of the glass.
He preferred to drink his scotch out of a tulip glass, it focused the aroma on the tongue in a broad fashion. He raised the glass and breathed in the scent, his mouth slightly open.
It was a complex single malt, a bit grassy. Putting his lips to the glass, he let a bit of it slip into his mouth, feeling the oily liquid coat his tongue and the slight warmth at the back of his throat as the essence of peat and heather transported him to the highlands.
The feeling of calm he sought slid over his body, as he focused all his attention on experiencing the fine dram. Drinking scotch was a meditative practice for him. He breathed the cathartic fire out, feeling the warmth slide down his throat and into his belly.
Drinking scotch, the proper way of course, forced one to slow down, to enjoy the moment, to exist in the present. It was not a hobby to be adopted by those who couldn’t appreciate ritual. This was exactly why Aiden had adopted a Scotch habit. He had done it to force himself to be present. He was like the thoroughbred horses he bred, high strung, always moving, chomping at the bit, ready to be set free for a run.
He wondered what type of person the redhead was, what drove her. There was a stubbornness in her he admired. Staring at her from across the room, he saw she was surrounded be a group of men. They appeared to be lavishing her with compliments, which she deflected easily. She moved to the end of the bar after a while, taking a seat several stools down from him.
Her blonde friend had gone off to the dance floor with a short, dark haired woman. Aiden was starting to figure out her approach to men. She seemed to be looking for someone to hook up with and must have been finding the men at the bar wanting, because she’d dismissed each one that came to her. Aiden decided his best approach was to ignore her entirely and hope he was right about her curiosity.
“Do you have a Dalwhinnie single malt?” She asked, leaning towards the bartender.
He grew more intrigued.
“No, I don’t have Dalwhinnie. How about a Talisker 18?” The bartender was an older man in his sixties. He patiently ran a cloth along the bar, polishing it as he waited for her answer.
“Yes, that will be fine.” She nodded in satisfaction.
She watched the bartender pour a dram of Talisker into a tulip glass, accepting it gratefully when he handed it across the bar. She slid her credit card to him at the same time.
“I’d like to open a tab, please.”
She settled back into her chair, raising the glass to her nose and inhaling the aroma.
Aiden couldn’t take his eyes off her lips. He turned back to his own glass and willed himself to ignore her. A moment later he felt her eyes on him, assessing. She was in a good mood, relaxed. He smiled into his glass as he took a sip.
“What are you drinking?” Her voice was low and throaty, laced with the warmth of fine whisky.
He almost laughed out loud. He knew it. She was drawn to him because he ignored her. It was a game as old as time. Mortals always pursued that which retreated from them.
He decided to play.
“Oban 20.” He met her azure gaze with his own and smiled.
“A Scotch man in a Western bar?” Her voice was playful. She brushed a lock of hair over her shoulder, drawing his attention to the plunging neckline of her crimson top.
He nodded without saying anything.
She looked him up and down.
He sat silently, listening to the band play a song about saving a horse by riding a cowboy. A growing group of people on the dance floor moved back in forth in what he could only imagine was a very messy attempt at line dancing.
Unsatisfied with his silence, she took her drink and scooted over a few chairs until she was sitting next to him.
“So, what brings you here this evening?” There was a self confidence in her he admired.
“Business, I’m afraid.” He shrugged, taking a sip of his drink.
Something flickered in her eyes.
“You don’t sound very excited.”
“It’s been a busy year.” He offered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
She nodded her sympathy. “Yes, for me as well.”
“Hence the night out?” He asked.
She gave him a wistful smile and nodded her head. “Yes. I don’t go out very often. I’m afraid I’m rather boring.”
“I doubt that very much.” He said, his eyes roving over her body, before making their way back to meet her eyes.
She blushed as he held her gaze a second too long. Bringing her drink to her lips again, she took a deep draught from the glass. He could imagine the warm tingle spreading down her throat at that very moment.
She shifted in her seat and he knew he’d gotten to her.
“So, where are you staying?” She asked. The moment the words left her lips she seemed to realize how they sounded and flushed with embarrassment.
Aiden ignored the unintended suggestion. “My usual digs, a corporate apartment around the corner. It has twenty-four-hour room service, so it keeps me happy.”
He winked at her and pushed his glass towards the bartender, holding up a finger to indicate he wanted another.
“What about you, are you nearby?” This time his voice was laced with suggestion.
By now she had recovered her bravado and answered calmly. “No, I’m fifteen minutes from here. My friend thought this place would be fun.”
She played with the pendant hanging between her breasts and Aiden tried to ignore the stirring between his legs as he imagined pushing the fabric of her top aside.
She smelled like apples and citrus and something he didn’t quite recognized. His baser instincts were telling him to snatch her and drag her to his apartment, where he’d rip off those ridiculously thin black shorts and pull her down on top of him.
He realized she was saying something and tried to force himself to focus on her words.
“…and that’s why I decided on that corner.”
He nodded as if he’d heard everything.
“So, is work close by?”
“It’s not far, easy enough to get to on the subway. I walk most places though.”
She changed the subject, her head tilting to the side in curiosity. “You have a slight accent. Where are you from?”
Aiden smiled. It was usually the first thing women noticed about him. Edenites sounded foreign to mortals. Not enough that they could ever guess where they came from, just enough to make them ask. “Colombia. Bogota to be exact.”
Brin’s eyes lit up. She leaned in. “Oh, I’ve always wanted to visit Bogota.
They always said that no matter where he said he was from. He laughed. “Oh yeah? Why is that?” He tested, wondering if she had a genuine interest or if she was just humoring him.
“Oh, I’ve always been fascinated by the story of the lost city. You know, in the highlands above Santa Marta? There are supposed to be remains of a lost city. I’ve read they even do treks to it now.” Her eyes were aglow as she talked. “There was a kidnapping back in 2003 that got some press…”
Aiden had a bemused expression on his face. He was pleasantly surprised she knew something about Colombia. Perhaps there was more to this one than met the eye.
He focused on the energy emanating from her. It wasn’t quite fae, but it wasn’t purely mortal either. He must have stared at her for too long, as she was giving him a strange look.
“Yes, there was a kidnapping. Until very recently, the FARC was a huge problem. As you said, they did kidnap a tour group a few years back. Some Americans, a couple Australians and some Germans. If I remember correctly, they all made it home safe, some many months later. I try not to stray into the highlands when I can help it.”
He rubbed his chin thoughtfu
lly and shrugged.
“Wow, that’s crazy. What’s it like to live in a country with that type of threat?” She asked with genuine concern.
Aiden shrugged. “It truly isn’t as dangerous as foreigners seem to believe, especially in the last 5-10 years. There have been a lot of improvements. Crime is lower than ever, especially crime against tourists. It’s a beautiful city filled with passionate people.”
Aiden gazed at her, letting his eyes drift down her throat to her cleavage and back up again. He gave her a suggestive smile. “It’s a good place for passionate people.”
She swallowed, pressing her lips together. “So, what is it you do? I just realized I don’t even know your name.”
He chuckled at her attempt to change the direction of their conversation. Being a New Yorker, he figured she’d eventually get around to asking what he did. It was generally the first or second question out of someone’s mouth in the U.S. They needed to know what box to put you in, and for Americans, so often that was contingent on what you did for a living.
“I’m Aiden.” He flashed a charming smile.
He felt a tingle as her hand slipped into his. They shook briefly, lingering before letting go. He wondered if she’d felt it too. She had a strange look on her face, but for some reason he couldn’t read her as easily as others.
“Charmed.” She smiled at him, her eyebrows scrunched together.
He figured he better try and reel her in while she was interested. His mother had explained she was a pharmacologist, so he’d adopted a role he thought she’d find appealing.
“I am in New York to meet with someone at the NYU biopharmacology lab. Robert O’Connell.”
Brin looked surprised. “Oh?” She asked.
“Yes, we’re meeting to discuss a drug my company is developing.”
Suddenly her demeanor changed. Her expression was now guarded. “You work for Arcata?” She asked carefully.
Aiden nodded slowly and her eyes widened.
“Wow. I’m so glad you shared that with me. Have a nice night, Aiden.” She picked up her drink and scooted down the bar to where she was originally seated.
