Inhuman Heritage by Sonnet O'Dell Page A

race did not include me. No wonder I wasn’t a freakin’ witch. I knocked back a shot of Jim Bean and smacked my glass down for another. Wraith poured it eyeing me skeptically. I’d never tried one on before and not in his bar. It was pretty much the only bar I knew of, though I never usually came there to entertain myself. Other people were filing in. Wraith had officially set off some kind of signal to let people know he was open, like the commissioner calling his Batman. I snickered at that and downed the new shot. The other patrons were beginning to call for Wraith’s attention. He tried to leave but I grabbed his arm.
    “Cassa, it may not seem like it to you but this is my job and I got to serve them too.”
    “Fine,” I said and snatched the bottle, “but Jimmy stays with me and if Jack wants to come along later, the more the merrier.” I discovered that I was not a happy drunk. Drink didn’t improve my mood; it just made me less coordinated while I was having a bad day already. Didn’t stop me from pouring another shot and downing it. Maybe it took a while for it to kick in especially as I was other. I had to tick that little box on the form for when they don’t cover your option. I didn’t even need to worry about doing myself any damage; my liver would probably just heal itself. I had done with the glass placing the neck of the bottle to my lips-maybe I just needed a greater and quicker infusion. I started to down the bottle. The guy two stools down from me watched this with apparent fascination. I flipped him the bird which was a clear signal that he needed to mind his own damn business.
    The drunk feeling started a few minutes later in my belly, a warm sensation that spread out through my insides to my fingertips, out through my toes and finally into my head. The world became a hazy Monet painting and everything was beautiful. That had really done the trick. Wraith came back over to survey the empty bottle in my right hand and the lazy grin that had crept across my face.
    “Cassa, you feeling okay?”
    “Mmm, very good.” He took the empty bottle from me and looked at it forlornly.
    “Jesus, Cassa, you drank the whole thing. Wouldn’t it have been easier just to get laid or something?” I smiled at Wraith and let my eyelids flutter at him.
    “You know I’m good for it but that’s not a bad idea,” I said jumping off the stool and wobbling on my heels a little using my arms to get me back on balance. I swayed in place.
    “What is?”
    “Getting laid.” I marched towards the door.
    * * * *
    I ignored the queue of people outside Dante’s and the glares I got as I headed towards the door. Security knew me on sight and I looked good. I was wearing my black leather bike pants; they were tight and the sales clerk had said they hugged my butt seductively. The top I had on with a little rearranging slipped off one shoulder, it was a fierce emerald green that brought out my eyes and my bra held my boobs up making them look good too. The locket around my neck was like a signpost pointing down. I nodded to the doorman as I passed him strolling in like I owned the place and headed to the stairs. I could see Aram in his booth and there were women all over him, he was smiling and charming them. It roiled through my blood, that was until I saw Jareth.
    He was dressed rather like a pirate tonight, black shirt open so a large space of his white flesh was showing. He had a red sash tied through the belt loops of his trousers; it was beaded with purple and fuchsia beads that brought out the vivid crimson of it. His long hair was tied back loosely and he’d combed his Van Dyke. He shivered my timbers.
    The only thing I had discovered about having regular intense sex was that once it stopped you were going to miss it. Your body craved it voraciously like some kind of drug. I had thought all the hype in magazines about it was just that hype. Aram had cut off my supply, so I said to myself tilting my head to