staff meeting

Shattered glass glittering under the edge of the door. Sunlight spilling through and around it to create a minefield. Sitting in the store room, knees drawn up atop one of the crates of liquor, arms looped around them Linc had watched the sun slowly twist itself around. That arc sweeping the floor like a laser beam while his phone shook and moaned out there among the broken glass. Maybe Magnus trying to track him down after last night’s shit show or Hector trying to pin him down.

Shit.

He’d heard them marching in and out. Bodies that could lead the authorities right back here if they were found dragged out. A whole day of clean up while he’d, for all intents and purposes, been trapped here by the sun he still couldn’t walk in.

Linc huffed out a breath as the last wedge of sun disappeared, slipping down off the box. He brushed his knuckles over his lips, feeling the dry crackle of blood on his face. If Wesley had been the one in charge last night wouldn’t have ended up with the ‘revellers’ being ejected, he would’ve just joined in the blood letting until he’d painted the entire place red. He always had his whipping boy to clean up after him.

There wasn’t anybody on the other side of the door, just his phone sitting there, the screen lighting up again with Hector’s name. 92 missed calls. Not gonna make it to 93. Linc answered quietly, his voice barely a rumble drowned out by the snap of Hector’s voice. Downstairs. Now.

Still he’d dragged his heels, only reaching the door as Hannya swanned in, none the worse for last night as she slipped her arm into his and dragged him in. Linc tried to pull back but Hannya had her grip, unbreakable. ”Nothin’ good,” he muttered.

Being the baby of the bunch wasn’t gonna mean a thing if Hector lost his shit. Looking at him like a landmine about to blow, Linc eased a hip up onto a stool at the bar. Muscles twitching in his jaw, his hand slipping into the pocket of his jeans to squeeze his phone. He didn’t need Hector to draw his attention back to the carpet, last night he’d ended up on it on hands and knees in the thick blood, trying to pull one of the human chew toys they’d all been fighting over out of the middle of it all.

Oh, there it was, Hector’s temper rolling out as Hannya slipped into that flirty cat mode, making it obvious how much she loved the lead up to that whap with a paw. Blame thrown from one to another, Hannya tossing that red hot ball to Lawrence, as the bartender, Lawrence tossed it about like a chimp with a hot potato, frowning at Hannya before he threw it on. Linc’s mouth fell open as it landed in his lap. ”You’re blamin’ me? You and her told me to let in whoever was on the list, if they had a guest, they had a guest.” He stabbed a finger at the maitre d’s stand at the door and its pretentious little book. ”It was all calm until the two of you slipped off for a little … you know. What was I meant to do then when some ancient Dracula wannabe decided he didn’t wanna share? You got a training course for that?” He winged a brow at Hector, the pit of his stomach twitching. A step too far maybe.

Tagged: HECTOR DACRE * Word Count: 587

At least Wesley’s people had been too scared of him to talk back – himself included. He was the one leading the charge to spill the blood, leaving the flat strewn with the bodies he’d helped to drain. All it’d taken was the snap of his fingers and he’d have his personal servant and that lower tear of hangers on rushing in to clean them up. Having seen what happened when you screwed up Linc had never risked it. Now there was room for a no, even if it was battered down by Hector after or simply swept aside by Hannya.

Blue eyes ticked back and forth between the three of them, judging how far he could shove the blame from Hector’s reaction to them. A relaxation in the line of his shoulders, a minute twitch to his mouth as most of the blame was shunted off. All if it should’ve been shoved off onto other shoulders but Hector was still portioning some to him. ”I couldn’t try and help the girl and call at the same time … not unless pullin’ some sort of Houdini shit is a vampire thing I don’t know about.” It wasn’t, although there was plenty none of them had shown him yet.

Hannya was meant to hold the reins in here but last night her grip had been loose. Now it seemed to snap tight in the air, all that attitude shooting straight at Hector as his own brows rose. ”Can’t do shit if I’m not told to do it,” he muttered under his breath. Magnus had been the one to get him hired on here. A spot among the old AF, as Cassie had called them in other terms. If he couldn’t learn from them … then he was screwed and not in the way Hannya was intimating now. He stared at her impassively as she started to try and strip him bare. ”I know enough to know there wasn’t anything worth looking at.”

Magnus, his guardian of sorts now, was meant to be some sort of wise man on all of this on top of that but no matter how much he talked him through he still felt out of his depth. A kid without guidance. He should’ve known enough not to kick two more powerful people under the bus at least but he’d done it and saw Hector’s jaw clench. Linc ducked his head slightly, glancing in Hannya’s direction, the more dangerous of the two. ”I’ll make sure I am them not to lock me up with the sun between me, my phone and the crime then.” Sod the customers.

And sod his boss. That mocking voice had him gritting his jaw as he just looked at her. Like the girls at school, sing-songing anything they thought would get under your skin. ”Must be hard fuckin’ up when you’re meant to be watchin’ the shop, or just you know, minus the ‘up’.” Getting metaphorically slapped on the wrist. He actually slapped hers instead, trying to bat away those nipping fingers, his eyes darting to Lawrence, the tilt of his head screaming liar before his shoulders stiffened again. ”She wasn’t in the club. You tellin’ me everybody down here was over 21 when they got … you know … how old were you?” Tossing it back in Lawrence’s court while something squirmed in the pit of his stomach. He’d done Cassie a favour and now it might end up with Hector spewing at him like Vesuvius.

Tagged: HECTOR DACRE * Word Count: 583

Loyalty to Wesley had been a matter of fear or desperation, the consequences of what happened if you weren’t laid out on the rug in his office, blood seeping into that faded wool. With Hector the jury had been out from the start, how far Magnus’ connection here would stretch for him unclear. Now Linc wondered just how quickly it was gonna snap. Two big shots in the room each calling jurisdiction on their part of this supernatural whole, two almost insignificant pawns in it shoving proverbial hands up like just being lackeys was gonna be an excuse for what happened.

Let Hannya take the flack, she was where the buck stopped after all.

Linc’s throat still worked as Hector mentioned getting rid of the bodies though. Arms tight across his chest, his lips pressing together as he cut his gaze up to the corner of the room, like he could see through the building to where they’d been scattered. While he’d sat there watching the light spill across the floor.

Maybe bits of him and Lawrence would end up in the same place. Liberties taken had to be punished somewhere and he couldn’t see Hector pulling out his sword, pirate style, and lopping off hands. A trace of heat rose in Linc’s cheeks at his chastisement of them. Not on the premises. Demon, vampire … witch … it didn’t matter. You kept your nose clean here – and he hadn’t. Hannya and Lawrence hadn’t either, the words slipping silk like out of Hannya now feeling intimate in a way, leaving that shudder beneath his skin. He definitely shouldn’t have been hearing that.

The demon gave no shits though, taunting her favourite pastime. Words, that languorous touch that somehow felt wrong, the snap of those hazel eyes to dark. Shit. His eyes cut away, refusing to meet them when those promises were raw in the air.

Sandy brows drew together at Hector’s demand for answers. The older vampire’s dark eyes fixing on him. A muscle jumped in Linc’s jaw. He wasn’t about to admit that it was another part of his education lacking, if it had been one of Magnus’ lessons he hadn’t heard the words. ”She wasn’t allowed in. She just wanted the music. Didn’t seem like much hate there to me.” Except for the bouncer who’d turned Cassie away at the door in the first place. A pointless exercise when being turned meant you could permanently be a sixteen year old with a thousand year old mind trapped in that young body.

Somehow he kept up his poker face as he took a swipe at Hannya, backbone in his observation that brought on a snicker from her. Nausea washed away the hunger the scent of the blood brought on, Linc’s eyes dropping to the carpet, rocketing back up. It was too easy to picture Cassie sprawled there on the carpet, throat torn open by one of the things that would’ve toyed with her like a cat with its prize. ”She’s not … she just …” He pulled away from the bar, needing to get out of there before the image permanently imprinted itself across the back of his eyeballs. ”She won’t be in here again.” It felt like a dismissal with those orders.

Fingers curled into his palms and unfurled again, the skin almost itching as he scrubbed them against the rough fabric of his jeans. It was that sick push and pull of his hunger again, this place doing nothing to curb it. So much for Magnus’ promises. Instead of dipping a toe in slowly, he’d been dropped into a blood bath to drown. ”I’m fine. I’ll get a bucket … start to clean this up.” Penitence on his knees, bloody water washing over his knuckles, trying not think about how Hannya was giving hers. Something Lawrence obviously didn’t want to think about either. Both of them should’ve been pouring the bleach he trailed out to fetch into their ears and eyes instead.

Tagged: HECTOR DACRE * Word Count: 665