Lost Girl - Elena Trueblood
Priest
“Come on baby, just dance with me for a little bit.”
I roll my eyes while I drain the glass of its last swing of Tullamore Dew, “Get out of my face, asshole.”
I take my eyes off of him, dismissing him and return to looking at the crowd that’s filling the dance floor before me. Misfits is damn near always packed full, one of the hottest clubs on this side of the city, and with the patronage of the Phoenix, it’s a very successful venture for my crew.
That also makes it one of my personal safe havens, where I can let my hair down and breathe without making Cobra think he needs to send unnecessary backup.
Everyone knows to leave me the hell alone in Misfits.
Except for this asshole apparently, as he grabs my wrist in what he must think is a strong hold as he yanks me from my seat. Other crew members stand up from their seats or stop whatever they are doing to look on. Not help, because as one of two female members in any sort of leadership role they all know I can handle myself, but that doesn’t mean they can’t enjoy the show.
“Bitch, I asked for a dance!” dude yells in my face, like that’s supposed to change my mind, and I can’t hold back the smirk, even as he holds my right hand over my head like I’m some fucking ragdoll for him to throw around.
“You must not be from around here, huh?” I can’t help but ask, but before he can respond I’m yanking my arm free while hooking him in the jaw with my left hand.
He stumbles back, ass hitting the floor, but I didn’t hit him hard enough to knock him out, I’m not that nice.
“Priest,” Bones calls from behind the bar. He’s Cobra’s second in command, my best friend, and the closest thing to family I’ve got, being as Cobra and Mom raised us.
“I’ve got it Bones.” I don’t even look over my shoulder as I approach the idiot. I adjust my black long sleeve crop top and shake out my dyed blond hair.
“Your first mistake was talking to a woman like I’m obligated to dance with your dumbass.” I tell the idiot, stepping on his hand that he snatched me up with. I hear the crack of one of his fisted knuckles buckling under my weight, and a corner of my lip lifts as he lets out a cry of pain.
It’s not that I’m getting off on his pain, but a girl of the crew can’t show weakness or sympathy in a moment like this. Here, a girl of the crew has to be ten times more ruthless than any man to make the point that we are not all soft smiles and loving embraces. Some of us are rare gems made from unbelievable pressure, a pressure that we did not succumb to.
“Your second mistake was touching without asking, like I am property to be man handled.”
I squat down, and now he seems to realize just how dangerous I am, just what rabid animal he unleashed. I reach into the back pocked of my pants and pull out my knife and release the blade.
“Your third mistake, well your third mistake is ignorance. I am gonna clue you in though, cause I’m sweet like that. This is Phoenix territory. I am Priest. I make motherfuckers like you pray for mercy, but tonight I am feeling more benevolent than usual, so I’m gonna let you off with a warning… This is probably going to hurt.” I tell him honestly, as I hold his left arm to the ground with my right hand and with my left, I draw a cross on his exposed forearm, about two inches long and an inch across. He’s trashing the whole time but there isn’t much you can do when you have both your arms pinned down and an ever-present weight just hovering over your chest. He’s sweating up a storm and cussing me out as I do the whole thing, but I don’t care, he’s not the first person and I am sure he’s far from being the last.
I let him go, and he scrambles to his feet while holding his newly cut arm like I tried to kill him, which I totally didn’t, though it wasn’t that I hadn’t thought about it. I just really wanted to go back to enjoying my night out.
I examine my knife before wiping it clean on my jeans. I turned