Beyond Blood

Welcome to the Blackbird

Chapter One
Welcome to the Blackbird

Bright flashing lights and the steady thump of a deep bass keeping beat brought the entire pub-come-club to vibrant life. The bar I rested on vibrated beneath me, buzzing against my skin as much as the cacophony of so many voices did. The heat of bodies bumping and grinding together, fighting for space at the bar so they could shout slurred orders at busy barstaff, already had my hair sticking to my clammy skin.

“This isn’t what I meant,” Laura yelled over the music, trying to drag me away from the bar to rejoin the throng of inappropriately dancing Uni students.

I yanked my arm free of her grip. “You’re the one who brought me here!"

“To dance and drink and maybe kiss a boy, not to try to wrangle a job offer. Come on, you hate clubs. You’d suck behind a bar dealing with drunk people.”

I would have been offended if she wasn’t right, but as she’d pointed out to convince me to even join her tonight, it was really a pub with room for a proper dance floor. A pub I could handle during the day, and if I had to work nights, then I’d work nights and deal. Laura was already paying for my drinks, had paid for my entry too, and let me borrow her green velvet dress that was too tight around my hips and boobs. It was time I at least made an attempt to stand on my own two feet.

“You said you were friendly with the staff here, that you know them,” I argued, pulling her beside me. “Either help or don’t, but I need the money; you know that. Every other interview I’ve had so far has ended in me being practically laughed out the room, but this I don’t need qualifications for. You can’t keep paying full rent just because my family have decided to cut me off. I won’t have it. I left because I wanted to make my own way, you encouraged me to, so help me.”

Pale blue eyes searched my face, red painted lips pressing together.

I could read the hesitation in my friend's expression, and a glint of something that might have even been fear. When she’d said a few of her mysterious friends had started working here, I’d assumed it would make The Blackbird the perfect place for me, but something about her reaction - after she herself had encouraged my job hunt - caught my attention.

“Is there another reason you don’t want me working here?” I quirked a brow.

Icy eyes widened and she spluttered, smoothing a hand over the purple silk choker she often wore around her neck before collecting herself.

“Fine. I’ll help if I can.” She brushed past me and leaned over the bar, yelling so obnoxiously loud that several others waiting to be served openly stared at us. “Ness! Get over here, I need a favour!”

The man who’d been busy pouring out shots of Sambuca glanced over his shoulder, his frown turning to a grin when he spotted my friend practically dangling over his worktop. He was cute, with dimples, big Labrador chocolate eyes, and a mop of dark brown hair that stood up in every direction.

Not Laura’s usual type, I thought.

He finished serving the group of rowdy Uni students before bounding over. “Laura! Weren’t you here last night? Are you looking for Mac?”

The name made my ears prick. Mac was one of Laura’s superiors at her job, not that she'd ever really explained her line of work to me. I knew it was mainly night shifts, whatever it was, handy for a fellow student, and it paid eye-wateringly well. When I’d asked if she could put in a word for me at her work, she’d laughed for so long I’d been offended before simply saying they weren’t hiring. I was beginning to wonder if she was some sort of stripper, not that it would bother me if she was.