Demons (Damirae)

Chapter Fifty-Six

A wave of nothing rocked Jason backwards as he entered the establishment, overwhelmed by something rolling around in the atmosphere- and he guessed that that something was power. Not political power or brawn, but raw, magical energy. It flowed through the writhing forms of the beings occupying the space in front of the part-humans.

Those creatures, whom the very sight of would burn a priest's eyes, twirled and twisted and touched and teased to the most terribly, dreadfully beautiful music Jason had ever heard. From all angles, this siren song wailed, weaving a web a take of sex and sadness in a lone, lengthy note. Whichever unearthly being this song had come from had captured Jason's heart and briefly held it as their own.
He took an impulsive step forwards, ready to join the crowd of Dark rhythmically swaying to the preternatural ballad.

Instantly, a hand grabbed the back of his leather jacket, slamming him headfirst in to the wall that was reality. The electric green eyes of his brother attacked his own, forcing the siren ding out of his mind.

"Do not even entertain the thought of listen to it. Pay the music no attention- elvish music is enchanting- too much so."

Heeding Damian's words, Jason walked around the dance floor towards a bar illuminated by blueish neon lights, with a man in a waistcoat, bow tie and cufflinks all in the colour crimson, but a white shirt and trousers also. Upon catching the eye of the bartender, Damian and Raven were greeted with outmost familiarity, exchanging pleasantries in French with the man ('Edmonde Depardieu') as they assumed seats at the bar.

Taking the stool besides Damian's, Jason was saved the task of introducing himself as Damian asserted, "Eh bien, je voudrais présenter un ... ami.", his eyes shone with a hidden meaning, one which Edmonde apparently understood.

"Ah, d'accord. Ton ami a-t-il in nom?"

Pissed off to have people speaking for him - and knowing his fair handful of languages Jason rolled his eyes, "Je m'appelle Jason et je voudrais boire  quelque chose d'alcoolique.", he grinned a bitchy grin, "S'il vous plait."

The bartender replicated his challenging smile with a sweetly salty, "D'accord. Que desirez-vous?"

Before Jason-the-manic-alcoholic could order the strongest thing he could get his hands on, Damian cut his fun, ordering, "Ne lui donne rien.", knowing that Jason wouldn't be able to hold Dark liquor.

"Il est casse-pied, eh?", Edmonds chuckled, wiping dry a beer glass.

After offering Damian and Raven drinks- to which they declined with the justification that they would be leaving shortly, a knowing look in their eyes- the bartender sauntered to the other end of the bar where a woman requested a refreshment: Jason pondered much later on if this is what sirens or creatures of the ocean (apart from Altanteans) would look like, for in oceanic waves, her hair cascades down her back, with sky blue skin as a backdrop and an iridescent sheath for clothing. When the unearthly being tossed her tides of hair over her shoulder, tilting her head, Jason caught a glimpse of fishlike, plump, lilac lips drawn backwards in a sultry smile to reveal slightly elongated canines. There was but a slight rise and two slits where one would expect a nose, but what captivated his attention were the rounded almonds of aquamarine meeting his gaze through heavy eyelashes.

She sat about four (taken) seats away, her lithe, blueish arms resting on the counter, one elegant, exposed leg folded over the other. Lilac lips lifting as she observed Jason from the corner of her eye, the female's pearly whites sunk in to her bottom lip. Subconsciously, Jason's tongue flicked over his own.