Revenge and the Wild(2)

The elf, nimble and rather beautiful with his long, fair hair and soft features, was fast, avoiding the brunt of the young man’s advances. But the human was quicker with his feet, kicking the elf’s legs out from under him each time he tried to stand.

Each seemed too drunk to get the best of the other until the young man noticed Westie and Bena nearby. His eyes went wide, mouth falling open as he looked at Westie. The distraction allowed the elf to gain the upper hand and pin the human against a hitching post.

“You’re strong for a girl,” the young man said to the elf, a cocky grin moving his lips. He couldn’t have been older than sixteen, an aristocrat from the looks of his clothes, with skin that looked as smooth as the petals of a spring magnolia.

The elf’s prominent forehead was even more so when he frowned. “I’m a male.” He spit out another word in a language Westie couldn’t understand.

The young man’s brows rose high on his forehead. “You are?”

With a growl, the elf pushed the young man into the ogre’s waiting arms.

“Hello, beautiful,” the young man said in a strangled voice. The ogre squeezed him in a vise grip around his torso and then flipped him upside down. Coins fell from the young man’s pockets onto the ground.

The ogre, built like the trunk of a redwood with boils and warts covering its greenish skin, released a noxious odor—reminiscent of a polecat—that nearly knocked Westie out of the saddle.

She pulled her kerchief over her nose and laughed as Bena shook her head. Most creatures kept to the wilds, but those who wanted luxuries only humans could provide, and chose to live under the dome, behaved just like any other fool. Though Westie couldn’t say she liked them much, at least they were entertaining.

“That’s enough,” Westie said, her laughter trailing off as the ogre exposed jagged, bloodstained teeth. The boy was no match for a creature. “Put him down.”

When the ogre didn’t let go of the boy right away, what remained of Westie’s smile slid from her face. “Go on now. Let him go before this gets ugly.”

A vein protruded from the young man’s forehead, his face red and swollen from being hung upside down. “I think this got ugly five minutes ago,” he said with a not-so-subtle nod toward the ogre.

Westie rolled her eyes. Clearly he had no idea of the danger he was in. The Wintu might have cast a spell over the town making it impossible for creatures to kill humans without giving up their own lives, but there were things worse than death.

The ogre looked from the young man to Westie’s mechanical arm, then dropped him to the ground.

On the opposite side of the road, at the blood brothel, a group of vampires cheered for the fight to continue, only a glimpse of pale faces and the glint of dark-lensed goggles visible under the awning that protected them from the sun.

The young man stood up, brushed the dust from his clothes, and ran a hand over his dark, oiled hair, never taking his eyes off Westie. The color came back to his face, leaving a beautiful flush in his cheeks.

Frowning, Westie covered her chin with her hand, wondering if there was a blemish worth all his attention. She was used to people staring, but it was usually at her mechanical arm.

“Are you some kind of dummy?” she said.

He blinked up at her. “Pardon me?”

She pointed a metal finger toward the elf and the ogre as they receded back into the saloon. “Picking a fight with creatures like that.” She didn’t like getting mixed up with creatures—not only because of their penchant for violence, but also because they were known for holding grudges.

“I didn’t start that fight. . . .” He tilted his head in thought, a smile spreading across his face. “Actually, I suppose I did. You see, the elf had been killing me at cards all afternoon. I tried flirting to throw her—er, him, I should say—off his game. I don’t think he liked me running my hands through his hair, but how was I supposed to know he was a male? I thought all the hitting was some sort of creature foreplay.”

Bena snorted behind her.

Westie shook her head. “The ears,” she said, exasperated. “Males have longer, pointier ears.”

“I see.” He chuckled, looking around, up at the dome. “What a strange place, this Rogue City.”

“You new in town?”

Of course he was. Westie knew everyone in their small town. Not too many humans liked the idea of cohabiting with creatures, and the ones who did were often hiding from something.

He pulled a flask from his hip pocket. “Just arrived today.”

Westie watched him take a drink and felt her mouth begin to water. “You’ll be lucky to survive the night at the rate you’re making enemies.”

He had the kind of slick smile that could turn sharp girls into simpletons. “Luckily, I have you here to protect me.”

Bena cleared her throat. “We should get you home. It’s getting late.”

“Perhaps I’ll see you again,” the young man said.

“Let’s hope not.” Westie tugged at her horse’s reins, urging him in the opposite direction. “You seem like the kind of trouble I want no part of.”

His laughter came easily. There was something oddly familiar about the sound of it that put her at ease. She wondered what a dandy like him was doing in a place like Rogue City but didn’t want to give him the wrong idea by asking such a personal question.