Nightlife (Cal Leandros #1)(15)

"With double trouble there you don't need luck." I grinned.

She beamed with genuine pride at her double Ds. "They are brilliant, aren't they?" I'd seen women suffer through men's staring at their breasts countless times. Hell, I worked in a bar, after all. That was 99.9 percent of the men there. But Meredith was the first woman I'd seen stare at her own chest with a fascination equal to that of any random perv. With another subtle rearranging of the twins, she disappeared into the back to work her wiles on the owner, Mr. Talley. Or, as he was inevitably known, Tallywhacker. As mysterious and rarely seen as the Abominable Snowman or Bigfoot, he lurked in the back office counting his money and doing God knows what else. Once in a blue moon he'd pop out, leer with soulless eyes at some of the women, comb his five or six silvery strands of hair with nervous fingers, and then disappear again. He was a creepy guy who spent more money on porn mags and Kleenex than on beer for the bar.

Shrugging, I tossed the dirty rag into the sink. Everybody needed a hobby, even the freaks. If Meredith wanted to keep this job bad enough to shake her ass for the 'whacker, then that was her own lookout. And if I kept an ear out for a scream, then that just meant screams were bad for business. Bartenders lived off their tips, after all.

"Excuse me, buddy, could I get some help here?"

I turned my head, mentally kicking myself. Niko would not be happy with the thought that someone could waltz up right behind me while I was distracted. I knew I wasn't too damn thrilled about it. A man stood on the other side of the counter waiting for my answer. He was a big black guy with hair razored short to his skull and a close-cut goatee. The red-and-black tattoo of a horse encircled his wrist, peering out from the sleeve of a black leather jacket. Patient brown eyes measured me as white teeth flashed in a friendly grin. "Catch you at a bad time?"

Reaching for a glass, I filled it up with soda and placed it in front of him on the bar. "Sorry, pal. What can I do for you?"

He curled his hand around the glass, a faint puzzled line between his brows. "Thanks." Taking a sip, he put the glass back down and gave me a rueful twitch of his mouth. "Glad you didn't give me a beer. I don't drink anymore."

I knew he didn't drink. Alcohol tended to linger in the scent a lot longer than in the blood. If he'd had a beer even a month ago, I would've smelled it. "Yeah, you look the sober and serious type. So," I repeated, "what can I do for you again?"

His smile faded a bit at my brusque words. "I'm with the band. I need to start setting our equipment up." He pushed the glass back toward me. "I need you to open up the doors in the alley."

"Band?" I snorted. "You're kidding, right? Talley sprang for a band?"

He settled his weight on a stool and knocked on the surface of the bar once. "Hey, now, we'll bring class and prosperity to this hole-in-the-wall. Your boss recognizes an opportunity when he sees it."

"Funny. He never has before." I wiped off my hands, grabbed the keys off the hook on the wall, and came around the counter. "Hope you got your money up front."

"We're actually working for a cut of the take." He gave me a mildly sheepish look and held out a hand. "I'm Samuel, the guitarist."

"Cal." As hard as I'd stuck to my guns, Niko had still managed, years ago, to break me of my "Caliban" fixation. But labeled or not, I still knew where I came from.

I shook Samuel's hand, the calluses of a lifelong guitarist evident against my skin. "Well, Samuel the guitarist, I hope you can divide jack shit evenly between the band because that's what we usually pull in around here." Heading toward the back of the bar, I kept careful track of his footsteps behind me. No Grendel, but that didn't mean he wasn't here to rob the place. We'd had our share of robbers before. Pissed-off, disappointed robbers once they got a look at what was in the till. "I'll check it out with Talley, then unlock the back for you."

"No problem," he said evenly from behind me. "Maybe then you could help me unload the van. I'd pay you a couple of bucks."

"Yeah, sure." It wasn't like I had anything better to do. There wasn't customer one in the place yet except for a regular huddled in the corner watching the static-fragmented TV screen. Jerry wouldn't even notice I was gone until his bottle was empty, and he had at least an hour left on that.

While Tallywhacker confirmed he'd hired Samuel's band, Meredith made her escape from the office. The half-scornful, half-repulsed expression on her face melted to a brilliant smile she flashed Samuel's way. Merry's boyfriend didn't keep her from flirting shamelessly. Niko had learned that on more than one occasion. I was fairly sure Meredith's boyfriend would have been dropped in a hot second if Niko had given her the slightest bit of encouragement, but Niko liked his women more like himself. Intense and sharply real. Meredith was neither.

Out in the alley, I watched as Samuel unlocked his van. It was an older model, dark red with black gothic lettering painted on the side, spelling out the horde. I indicated the name and asked curiously, "As in the Mongols?"

He nodded and swung open the doors. "Our lead singer calls himself Genghis. How hokey is that?"

I wasn't exactly in the position to be throwing stones, but at least I hadn't voluntarily chosen my name. "Pretty hokey," I agreed. Within a half hour we had the van unloaded and I was back at the bar pouring Samuel another glass of bubbly and nonalcoholic. He gave a grateful nod and slid a ten and a five across the counter tome.