Sun Broken (The Wild Hunt #11) - Yasmine Galenorn Page 0,34

far more expansive than the outer shell. For one thing, the bar wasn’t one story on the inside. To the right, back of the bar, were stairs leading to an interdimensional realm that wasn’t visible here in our world. The bar was mahogany, polished to a high sheen, with brass fittings and a granite countertop. Behind the bar were rows of bottles, every drink you could imagine.

Booths lined the walls and the center floor was filled with tables. A rack of antlers over the bar was so large that it made me wonder if Cernunnos himself had donated them. Paintings of the Cascade volcanoes adorned the walls. A large bay window stretched across the front of the bar, giving at least six booths a wide view of the parking lot.

We sauntered up to the bar and slid onto three open stools. The booths were mostly empty, but it was early. By lunch time, they’d all be full. I stared at the bottles. Most of the liqueurs were foreign to me, and I had the sudden desire to try something new.

“Well, if it’s not the King Stag and his posse,” the bartender said, wandering over to greet us. Wendy Fierce-Womyn was Ginty’s right-hand woman. Once you met her, there was no chance you’d forget her. Six-two, she sported a platinum Mohawk that shimmered against her rich brown skin. She was built like a brick house, muscled and strong, and she filled in for Waylin, the bouncer, when need be.

“Hey, Wendy,” Herne said, motioning to the bar. “I’ll have a glass of Blossom-Berry Mead.” He glanced at me. “The best mead around, in my opinion. The Elves in Annwn make it and ship it over.”

“They ask a pretty penny, too,” Wendy said, pouring a glass of the shimmering honey wine. She set it in front of Herne. “What about you, Ember? And Viktor?”

Viktor shrugged. “I’ll take a pint of Keros ale.”

I scanned the bottles. “I want to try something new. Nothing too strong, given we’re headed into parley, but something a little sweet?” I wasn’t fond of alcohol that didn’t have a sweet taste to it, which was one reason I avoided most red wines.

“Hmm, let me see,” Wendy said, turning to stare at the shelves. “I know! Have you tried a Buckle Up?”

I frowned, shaking my head. “I’ve never even heard of it.”

“New drink. Made with Blue Brandy, mint, and chocolate liqueur. It won’t land you flat on your back, but it’s a cool fire in the belly.” She poured Viktor’s ale and started working on my drink.

“How’s it going?” I asked. I liked Wendy and wanted to get to know her better. She made me feel like a slug, fitness wise, but she was caring and a staunch defender of women. I kept thinking about asking her to one of our girls’ nights.

“Not bad. I’m actually volunteering at a women’s shelter. Rayan’s House for Women. Have you heard of it?”

I cocked my head. “Wow, yes, actually I have. In fact, I referred a young woman there this week and it sounds like they’ve taken her in. Her name is Shayla. She’s pregnant.”

Wendy nodded. “I processed her intake. Her boyfriend couldn’t come with her, of course, but he didn’t have any objections and the only thing he asked was that she call him when she got settled.”

“Pain is actually excited about the baby, and he’s looking for a job so he can take care of her and the child. So as far as I can tell, he’s a good egg.” I glanced over at Viktor. “You know him better than I do. What do you think?”

“Pain’s been through hell, but he’s not the sort to pass on his misery. I’ve never once seen any indication that he’s violent.” Viktor sipped his ale, wiping the foam off his lips.

“Good to know,” Wendy said, sliding a drink in front of me. “Taste that and tell me it’s not a little bit of heaven.”

I sipped the brilliant blue drink cautiously. The first taste to hit my tongue was a rich warm chocolate, followed by the hint of a smooth brandy, and finally, a kick of fresh mint. Together, the three blended into a flavor that made me want to eat it rather than drink it.

“I wonder if Angel can reproduce this in cake,” I said, staring at the glass. “This is wonderful. It’s a little heavy for a spring morning, but damn, it’s good. I’ll have to remember this. You called it a ‘Buckle