Dreamwalker (Stormwalker #5) - Allyson James Page 0,7
owned and ran the Crossroads Bar, which had been open since before I’d bought the neighboring derelict hotel and restored it. Barry was a biker, and bikers liked his place, which was designated neutral ground. Riders came from all over the West and Southwest to stop at Barry’s for a beer and to take a load off.
Barry kept a shotgun behind the bar for any troublemakers and could handle most situations. The only time he asked for Mick’s or my help was when he had supernatural trouble.
The clientele eyed Mick and me sharply as we walked in. The bar was crowded tonight, the tables and barstools plus the pool tables in the back filled with men and women in leather and denim, most of them armed with pistols, knives, or both. The state we lived in didn’t ban handguns in public—individual businesses could forbid them on the premises but they didn’t have to. Barry didn’t bother, knowing his customers would bring their weapons anyway.
The regulars recognized us and either gave us nods or simply went back to what they’d been doing. The strangers stared at us a little longer but kept any hostility to themselves. Mick looked like the biggest, baddest biker of them all, and few wanted to mess with him.
Barry and his assistant bartender were pulling beers and pouring whiskey quickly, responding to the crowd. Barry grabbed bottles of the beer Mick and I liked and thumped them in front of us as we approached the bar.
“Those guys at the back pool table,” Barry said as he opened my bottle for me. “Something wrong with them.”
Mick yanked the cap off his bottle with his strong fingers. “We’ll check it out.”
“Thanks. Beers are on me.” Barry, looking relieved, turned away to refill a beer mug from the tap.
Mick can move quickly and at the same time look like he’s not the least bit interested in where he’s going. He’d made his way through the crowd to the pool tables before I could catch up to him. I wove around clumps of guys, most of whom left me alone. The regulars knew by now that men who messed with me usually ended up on fire or yelling in pain or running away very fast. Those who didn’t know me took their cue from the wary looks of the others.
Mick, in the way only Mick could, had ingratiated himself into a game at the pool table two over from the guys Barry wanted us to check out. Mick already had the man and woman at the table he’d taken over laughing with him.
I didn’t recognize the couple, but pretty soon Mick was best friends with them. Monica and John were from Barstow and had come to visit some friends in Flat Mesa. Monica and John were pretty cool people, it turned out, and soon we were discussing motorcycles and the various modifications Mick had made to ours.
Monica had dyed black hair and blue eyes, didn’t wear a lot of makeup, and had tatts that were works of art on her neck, bared shoulders, and arms. I didn’t have tatts myself because for some reason they didn’t take. When I’d first fallen madly in love with Mick, I’d wanted to get a few tattoos like his, but the lines and ink had simply vanished, my skin unmarked the next day.
John wore a kerchief over his hair and had brown eyes in a rugged face that sported a goatee. He also had tatts on his arms and neck, jagged designs I didn’t know the meaning of.
Monica and John, Mick and me, could have been great friends. Anyone looking at us would think so, the way we talked, laughed, and played the game with enjoyment. But I knew that the whole time Mick was joking with John he was keeping his eyes on the guys two tables over.
So was I, and I didn’t like what I sensed. They looked ordinary enough, drinking beer and playing pool, no different from the rest of Barry’s customers. Underneath their ordinariness, though, something was off.
I moved nonchalantly to the rack to switch out my cue, which gave me the excuse to edge closer to the table in question. I kept my back to the players there, but I didn’t need to look at them to sense the auras that touched me—a bite of smoke, a whiff of sulfur and magma.
I calmly lifted down a new cue and strolled back to our table.