Bad Decisions

Addicted to trouble

Kassie

“Barkeep!” I shouted, my voice dangerously close to slurring. “Hey! I need another round.”

There I was, at the bar, all 5' of me throwing back drink after drink. Yep, that's typical me, Kassandra Anne Volt. Never a quitter.

And also an enthusiast of alcohol.

I was twirling a piece of my wavy black and red hair between my thumb and finger when the dark fairy on the other side of the bar turned her piercing purple gaze on me, full of annoyance. Man, if looks could kill.

“When hell freezes over, Red. You already got over a dozen drinks tonight. You don’t plan on running off without paying your tab again, do you?”

“Of course I’m going to pay,” I said, feigning offense as I reached into my pocket. Nothing. I dug in the other pocket and only found some dirty old coins. Useless.

She raised a dark eyebrow in response.

I laughed as innocently as I could muster. “Common, Rose. I would never--”

My eyes drifted to the metal baseball bat leaning against a wall behind the bar as she wrapped her long pale fingers around the handle.

No, I wasn’t scared of Rosie. Not at all. I could kick her ass any day. But I wasn’t about to be cut off from my source. She supplied me with booze and I paid her. Eventually.

I played it cool. Or tried to. “Rosie, listen, I’d never do that to you. I’ve got--”

She slammed the bat down on the wooden bar, causing me to jump slightly in surprise.

“Never?” She hissed between her teeth. “Don’t bull.shit me, vamp. Whadda ‘bout last week, huh? I still haven’t seen that money either.” Her voice was laced with icy venom, on the verge of cutting me on their own accord.

I watched her knuckles go white as she gripped the bat even tighter, preparing to hit something—most likely me.

I put my hands up in surrender.

“Hey, no reason to get hostile, Rosie. I have it right here,” I blatantly lied.

She sneered, showing her perfectly white teeth, some of which looked sharper than they should’ve been.

At this point, we have done this charade a dozen times by now. She was already able to call my bull.shit.

Luckily, Rose was a damn good bartender, so when a middle-aged werewolf came to the bar looking to get his party started, her cranky self eagerly turned her attention to him. It gave me enough time to formulate a plan of action.

Normally, I would escape while her back was turned, but I was nowhere near drunk enough for my satisfaction.

But what made everything worse, I was sure this time she meant business. If I kept this up, I would be banned for eternity this time.

I know what some of you might be thinking. "This time" implies it's happened before. It has. Several times. Somehow I've always weaseled my way back in. I think Rose actually loves me deep down. Just very, very deep, hidden under all the hate.

I looked around the bar, trying to come up with a genius spur-of-the-moment plan. It hit me when I locked eyes with a shapeshifter. His eyes gleamed with hunger that food wouldn’t satisfy. That’s when my plan of trickery cemented in my mind.

I picked up a glass of liquid courage, downed the rest of it and stood up. I realized that I had finished the drink belonging to the disgusting troll next to me. I eyed the drool spilling from his underbite pooling out onto his bumpy gray skin. He was giving me a look that really screamed “what the f***k” at me. I held back the chilling feeling of nauseating disgust.

I patted him on the back once.

He’d just have to get over it.

After brushing off my grossness with myself, I sashayed over to the stranger.

Now, this isn’t my proudest moment in my life. It was a definite low on my part. I danced with the shifter a while, rubbing on him in embarrassingly intimate ways. I mean, dancing for me is already embarrassing. I don’t ever dance, for anyone, so this was absolutely terrible.

I knew exactly what this guy wanted.

I know most people would assume he wanted what everybody in their right mind would want. s*x. That wasn’t this.

This shape shifter wanted blood. By that, I mean he wanted me to bite him.

A vampire’s bite was incredibly addicting. I wasn’t able to feel it myself, but I have been told several times it was like being high.

I had seen this shape shifter so many times around this bar picking up whatever vampire that was willing. Lately, his eyes have been on me.

He was an addict, if you will, looking for a vampire to suck his blood for that light-headed, room-spinning-around-you feeling that only a vampire’s saliva can produce during feeding.

And because I was an addict for trouble I couldn’t resist giving him what he wanted.

I grazed my lengthened fang against his exposed neck, drawing some blood. I licked it when it swelled up. He groaned in response, instantly feeling that exact exhilaration he so desired. He pressed against my mouth, begging for more with another groan.

Truthfully, I was starved, so I caved easily, despite the feeling of shame in every part of myself.

I sucked his blood like my life depended on it. Which technically it does.

His blood was fine. Nothing noteworthy. Definitely not going to be worth the endless amount of self-pity and disgust I will feel towards myself. It was entirely too bland on my tongue. After a little while, my stomach felt like it was churning. Yeah, something was definitely completely wrong with this guy.

Not being able to stand having any more, I released his throat and wiped away the blood on my lips.

“Thanks, dollface,” he said with a wink as he adjusted his erection in his pants, then walked away like nothing happened.

I swallowed down the urge to puke right there on the floor in front of everyone.

Luckily, it wasn’t entirely a huge waste of my time. I pulled out the money I had slipped out of his pocket during our...exchange. I counted the large wad, I had plenty to pay off all my debts to Rose, and then some.

I walked back to the bar and sat back down in front of her. I put enough money down that I owed her.

“That was embarrassing, Red. Hope it was worth it.”

“Yeah, I hope so, too.”

It’s about to be. I’m gonna get fu.cked up.

She took the money and counted it. Afterwards, she poured a double shot of whiskey and put it in front of me.

“That one’s on me.”

I downed it faster than I should’ve, but I needed to cleanse my palate.

“Thanks.”

Rose had an abnormally worried look plastered to her face. “I remember what day it is. Ya going to be alright?”

Her concern was freaking me out. I wanted to try to laugh it off or play it off like I didn’t know what she meant but I just didn’t have it in me to pretend like everything was fine.

I propped my face against my hand and let out a sigh. “What’s another year, Rosie?”

She reached out and patted my other hand, but said nothing else in reference to her question. She pulled her hand away, leaving my hand bare. Hard to say her warmth wasn’t missed.

Funny how as soon as she had her money she was all kind and endearing…

“Where’s that handsome friend of yours? Weird not seeing Muscles skulking around, keeping an eye on you.”

I shrugged. “Dunno. Haven’t seen him in a while.”

I could see the urge to pry, but before she got the chance, I shot down from the chair clumsily. I damn near fell on my face before I caught myself. The room was spinning so fast and I had a hard time steadying myself.

I was pretty sure that guy’s blood was laced with some sort of drug.

Or I drank more than I realized.

“Think it’s time for me to call it a night. Thanks for the drinks.”

“See you tomorrow.”

“See ya, Rose,” I said as I started making my way to the door.

“Hey, Red,” She called from behind me. “Be careful.”

“Always,” I called out without turning to look at her and just kept walking out.

I was met with the cold city wind that blew my hair in my face as I stepped out of the bar. I brushed it away. The coolness didn’t help my unsteady feet, but nothing except sleep could solve that. And maybe a taco.

The small shi.tty city of Slattesville was dirty and dingy and housed some of the worst criminals in the world. How I ended up here and stayed for the long-haul was beyond me, but yet here I was. It was nothing short of home.

Despite the filthy and polluted air, the weather was nice tonight. It was nearing the end of March and it was still cold out.

I took out a cigarette and lit it, taking a deep, much needed inhale. I held it a moment or two longer than normal before exhaling the smoke in front of me.

You see, the reason that Rosie showed unusual concern for my well-being was because of the day. It was the twentieth anniversary of my parents' death. She didn’t know the specifics herself, but as my longtime bartender, she had picked up on a few things and knew today was one of tragedy and sorrow for me.

So here I was, trying to swallow down the pain in the only way I knew how. Alcohol. And of course, my “special” cigarettes.

Yes, I was getting high. It wasn’t a bright idea with whatever was in the blood of the shifter, but if anything, it would all collectively help take the edge off.

Suddenly, I was spun around and before I could finish a blink, was punched square in the face. Blood instantly gushed from my nose and lip.

I cupped my face, my cigarette still burning between my fingers.

“What the living hell?” I grumbled angrily, waiting for my eyes to stop being blurry.

My eyes finally focused, as much as they could do in my current state, on a big, ugly demon in front of me. His skin was a deep, s**t-green color that appeared dry and cracked. He looked down at me with black beady eyes. Luckily, he was tall and towered over my small frame, because I was certain between those dirty, yellowed teeth, his breath smelled like a rotting corpse.

A laugh escaped my swelling lips. “Vannice, what a pleasant surprise.”

I spit blood out from my mouth onto the floor, then wiped the remaining blood off my face with the sleeve of my leather jacket. I took another long puff of my cigarette as I just glared at the brain-dead beast in front of me.

“What do you want, you ugly f***k?”

I was a glutton for punishment. It was another great distraction from this particularly shi.tty day.

He snapped his jagged, dirty teeth at me, attempting to be menacing. He wasn’t, of course. Just ugly and disgusting.

Vannice was a weaker demon, that hardly amounted to anything except for his treacherous gang of lowly demons. They banded together in an attempt to promote fear in their wake, but, personally, they were more gross than they were menacing—unless of course, you were human. In that case, you were fuc.ked.

They loved parading around committing heinous crimes. Their favorites were raping, killing, and kidnapping. To them, no one was off limits. They ran the streets. And I happen to be their number one annoyance.

“I see you’ve been around by yourself for weeks,” he chuckled. “Where’s your bodyguard, Red?”

I rolled my eyes. This guy has had it out for me because he has yet to best me in a fight. It doesn’t help that I’ve stolen from his greedy ass many times. I mean, a girl has to do some shady sh.it to eat from time-to-time.

I saw his underlings start to slink their ways out from the shadows.

I should have been concerned, but on a night like tonight I really needed to let off some steam. And let’s be honest, even in my drunken state I was still able to kick their asses just fine. I hoped.

I took one final drag of my cig before flicking it to the ground and putting it out with the toe of my boot.

“You really want to do this, Van?” I said singsongly. “You know I can, and will, kick your fatass, happily.”

“Perhaps, but can you handle all of us without your little friend?” His people gathered around him, looking ready to attack on his command. He had been biding his time, waiting to catch me alone. I just knew it.

I laughed. Laughed hard. “You say that as if I need any help fuc.king you up.”

Vannice charged at me. I was ready for him.

He was heavy footed, as most weaker demons were. Fat and sloppy. As a vampire—even as a half breed—I had him easily beat in speed. I quickly spun out of the way, ending up behind him. I kicked the back of his knees, causing him to wobble to the floor.

I was getting ready to attack again when one of his idiots charged at me next. I didn’t notice him until the last possible second, so he tackled me to the ground, knocking the breath out of me.

A red haze went over my fuzzy vision. I was claustrophobic and this boulder of a demon was seriously in my bubble.

My fangs extended and without hesitation I bit down hard into his jugular. He swatted my head away in a panic because when a vampire wasn’t careful enough, it burned like hell. My head ended up being thrown back onto the hard ground. I saw spots for a moment before I took advantage of his disgruntled reaction to blood oozing out of my fang work. I had enough room to get a good grip on him and, using all my strength, I rolled him under me as I shoved my knee into his oh-so-sensitive area. I jumped off of him and prepared for the next one.

I delayed the next daring ass.hole with alternate attacks. I easily dodged his lazy blows, kicked his face in with the heel of my boot, elbowed his chest, and punched with all my might; whatever I could do. And just as another one dropped in defeat, another came flying at me. My breath came heavy and I was starting to slip up. I received a couple of punches to the ribcage and spine. When someone took a knife and stabbed it into my shoulder behind my collarbone, I hissed in pain.

I reached into my jacket and pulled out my own knife.

Two can play dirty.

But in that moment of distraction, one of the guys came behind me and grabbed me in a chokehold, my knife falling out of my hand and clattering to the ground.

Sh.it!

I tried to wiggle out, causing pain in my shoulder wound. I growled in pain and frustration.

I clawed and scraped and attempted to pry my way out. Nothing worked.

“Let me go, you buffoon,” I said, breathlessly, my voice barely audible.

Vannice laughed. “I thought my guys weren’t sh.it? You honestly thought you could handle all of us without your sidekick?”

The guy behind me tightened his grip on my neck, cutting off my circulation for breath.

I couldn’t even try to wiggle free anymore. The most I could do was try to loosen the grip enough for a small gasp of air down my windpipe. After a few moments, everything was starting to get darker.

I had to figure out something quickly before they killed me. I attempted to kick out my legs but he seemed unfazed as it met his blubbery gut.

“I’m going to--”

“You’re going to what?” A deep, husky voice rang out from somewhere in the darkness. I could tell the owner of this voice was pissed, however. “How about this? He’s going to put her down before I kill every single one of you.”

If I had any breath at all, my breath would’ve caught in the back of my throat.

When no one moved, the man that spoke finally stepped out of the shadows to my left.

A tall, broad shouldered demon with shaggy silver hair and black eyes stopped just feet away, glaring at the guy holding me.

The guy holding me faltered, but didn’t release. With his newly loosened grip, I could finally get in a struggling breath.

“Get the f***k off me,” I gasped.

The silver-haired demon briefly acknowledged me with his eyes. I could already tell what he was thinking without a single word. ‘I’ll deal with you later.’

His attention turned to my captor.

“You were warned,” he said, coolly, before charging forward.

He was on a way different level than these lowly demons. They knew better than to f***k with him.

In fact, everyone knew better than to f***k with him. Demons—not these lowly fu.cks but the real deal—were feared for the idea of being powerful and ruthless as f***k.

The guy tensed up momentarily before his common sense kicked in. He dropped me where he stood and bolted away.

Good on him because I was about to test my luck on trying to claw his eyes out.

Ignoring me, the silver-haired demon ran past where I was on my knees, trying to get my breath back through my sore throat. He grabbed the bastard by his shirt and threw him down. He pressed his foot into the guy’s face, shoving his face into the dirt.

“You worthless coward,” he growled. He pressed harder, causing the larger demon to groan.

“Vannice,” his voice boomed. “Your boys better scatter before I make you regret it.”

I had known this man nearly the entirety of my life. Micah was my best friend, my family, my sworn protector. The man that people nicknamed “muscles” for the sole fact that he was known to be incredibly strong.

He also had been missing for several weeks. I’m not sure what had happened to him but it had to have been awful. He was visibly shaking, holding back his anger.

Micah had a special ability, like most powerful demons. He can sense others' emotions and alter them to his will. He also could emit his own. In this moment, I could feel his anger all around my body, as if it was tightly hugging me. If this kept happening, I was certain that it would suffocate me much more effectively than the dude that had me in a chokehold.

It was only a split second before all of the monkeys had run off back from where they came, including Vannice himself, leaving their comrade behind to fend for himself. Still, Micah stood there pushing the remaining demon deeper and deeper into the dirt.

“Micah,” I called to him, but it seemed like he didn’t really hear me. I wobbled over to him and put a hand on his chest and pushed him gently away from the guy in the dirt.

The demon looked back and forth between us for a second, and when he realized this was his break for it, he scrambled away as quickly as he could.

The demon deserved to be killed, but I knew it wouldn’t sit well with Micah if he killed this creature out of his uncontrollable anger. Micah put on a big show but he really was a huge softy at the end of the day.

Now, it was just me and Micah alone.

Micah turned his full, undivided attention onto me.

Cr.ap.

“Is it possible for you to not get into trouble for five minutes?” He snapped.

“Five minutes?” I barked back. “I have been perfectly fine for the last three weeks by myself, thanks for asking. Where the f***k were you?”

He sighed and ran a tanned hand through his messy hair, as he always did when he was frustrated and stressed. Which was very often, usually directed towards me.

What can I say? I’m a handful.

I closed my eyes long enough to pass my anger but I was hit with a wave of dizziness. Instinctually, I reached out and steadied myself on him.

“Kassie?”

Then I was hit with nausea.

I didn’t have time to prepare for what happened next. I threw up right then and there. Right in front of Micah.

Not that it was the first time. And probably wasn’t going to be the last.

When I was done my body was shaking and exhausted, the world still moving all around me.

Micah came up and helped me stand up straight.

“Are you okay?”

“Better,” I gasped, but I wasn't so sure.

He lifted my chin and turned my face left and right, up and down.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” In the process of checking me, he brushed against where I was stabbed.

“Sh.it,” I hissed.

"You're hurt."

I could barely see the worry etched on his face through my double vision, but it didn't take a genius to know he blamed himself.

"I'm fine, Mic."

"You don't look fine at all."

A moment later, things got even worse.

A loud bang echoed in the night, followed by a searing hot pain soared through my higher portion of my abdomen. I looked down, confused, and saw blood oozing through my plain gray t-shirt.

My eyes slowly drifted upwards to Micah. His eyes were wide with surprise. He recovered quickly when I wasn’t able to hold myself up any longer.

The pain, doubled with my previous dizzy spell, made it really hard to stay vertical. As I started to crumble down to my knees, Micah stepped forward and caught me and held me close to his body. He grabbed my hand and pressed it on the wound.

“Keep pressure on it.”

He wrapped his arms around me tightly, holding me up.

But more importantly, he was shielding me with his body.

The world was going darker by the second, but it didn’t stop me from seeing shadows.

Behind Micah was a silhouette with his arm raised. I could only assume it was the same person who shot me.

I knew without a fuc.king doubt that it was a hunter. A human raised and trained thoroughly to kill supernatural beings. They were just ass.holes with a superiority complex, if you ask me.

He knew he was there, but didn’t dare to turn to look. Didn’t dare to make a move. He knew that he couldn’t outrun a bullet. He had already accepted taking a bullet to protect me.

“Micah,” my voice was barely a whisper. I anxiously tried to squirm against Micah, but didn’t make much impact. “Behind you.” He only tightened his arms in response, still not bothering to turn around or move in any way. To anyone else, it would appear he was unaware.

I heard that second bang. It sounded farther away than before, but I’m pretty sure my ears weren’t working anymore. I was barely conscious.

Before I was engulfed in a sweet blanket of darkness, I heard Micah’s sling of curses of pain confirming my fears.

He met the same fate as me and found a bullet now ledged in him.