Gunshots

From this angle, staring at the man's face as he ran his eyes through the bar, Storm thought that he looked like the legendary Zofan who hated the thought of using the guardian sword.

Zofar's primary job had been to be called in when there was no longer any hope, and that fact put a dark edge to his entire life. Not many people saw this, but she had noticed, as she had gone through the book.

Storm was close enough now to the man to sense his muscles relax as people assured him, they were all right. The people climbed slowly to their feet, shaken, but there was no one dead or wounded. They'd been lucky.

The floor was littered with glass and splintered wood, the smell of spilled alcohol was sharp, and bullet holes riddled the dark walls. Half the bottles and glasses behind the bar had been destroyed, and the one of the bartenders crawled shakily out from under a table.

A man zoomed in through the front door and stopped by a clump of people not yet brave enough to get up. Storm didn't know who he was but he seemed to be looking for the man right beside her. They had the same built, just that her savior was a hotter version. She almost laughed out loud at her thought.

The people at his feet looked up in terror. But what did the idiots expect if they hung out in a bar like this? This baffled Storm.

She could recognize some people from her side of the town. Some of her classmates, then in high school, had been seen as being cool whenever they mentioned that they had taken a trip down here and had returned unscathed. They pretended to adore the crappy side of the town. They even dressed like the inhabitants sometimes, but when a gun is shot, or mafia clubs were at loggerheads with each other, they cringed in fear.

"Kaden," The new guy said over the crowd, eyes holding questions.

Storm took her lips in. Kaden. Not bad for a hot savior. She thought.

"No one in here got hit. How's Liam?" Kaden asked.

"He'll live." The anger on the new guy's face mirrored Kaden's own. "Hunters, a carload of them. This place is getting unsafe for us, Kaden." He mentioned, but Kaden kept quiet, taking inventory of the whole damage to the bar.

"Cowards," A beauty spat suddenly from nearby, attracting Storm's attention. Eyes white with rage, the red head helped another woman to her feet. She was wearing a collar which she wore like a fashion accessory to her body-hugging gold mini dress; a collar emitted half a dozen sparks.

"Let me go after them." She said, heaving in and out.

Storm thought her mad there and then. What could she possibly do to a team of bulky men? Dance for them? Storm scoffed, thinking about it. False bravado seems to have reached this part of the town too.

"Easy." The new guy stated. His voice held such calm authority that the redhead backed off in spite of herself, and her collar went silent. Storm wondered why that was so. She noticed that the other new guy was wearing a collar too. But his didn't spark at all, although she felt the waves of anger from him.

One of the groupies raised his hands. "Hey, man, it had nothing to do with us."

The new guy forced a smile, stuffing himself back into his ostensible role as bar manager. "I know that, lad," he said. "I'm sorry for your trouble. You come back in tomorrow, why don't you? The first rounds on me."

His Irish lilt was pronounced. His voice tone aiming to soothe, but the people nearby didn't look comforted. The bartender which had earlier stormed out, staggered back in with few bruises all over his body. He was nearly seven feet tall, broad of shoulder and chest, and tight with muscle. His face was sheet white, his shoulder torn and covered with blood.

Storm winced, especially when she saw that he was the exact man that had asked her earlier what she had been doing here.

What the hell! Had he been this tall? She trailed her eyes all over him. And when their gazes met and held, she shook off Kaden's protective hold and went to him.

"Damn it, what were you doing?" She asked, wanting to help him in any way she could.

"My job." He replied, and Storm scoffed out aloud. When had the man gone from bartending to fending off bullies and bullets? The amount of blood flowing down his torso would have had another person on the floor in shock. He merely looked embarrassed.

Kaden got to the man's other side. "In the back. Now."

"I'm fine. It's just a bullet. My own fault." The bartender replied, but Storm was having none of it.

"Shut it." She said, before gesturing Kaden to help her move him.

Kaden and Storm towed the bigger man to another door marked "Private," and Kaden more or less shoved him into the office beyond.

Storm's hands twitched. She so wanted to give him a slap for pushing a wounded individual into the office like that. Couldn't he more gentle?

The office was ordinary-cluttered desk, a couple of chairs, a storage cabinet, shabby sofa, and a small safe in the wall. Storm wondered what was in there.

A wooden sword leaned against the wall like an upright cross with threads all around it. Storm couldn't help her mind from wondering if any of the guys had a child or children. The sword looked like something that was carved for a kid of perhaps five or six years old.

Taking her lips in, she cast a short glimpse at Kaden who was more focused on moving the bartender across the room where a chair was.

Could he be the one with a child?

The thought left a bitter after taste in her mind and mouth, and she couldn't for the life of her state why.

Kaden pushed the bartender at a chair.

"Sit, Lent."