Friday Fiction: A calm night in Lacey's bar

Lacey's is a little hole in the wall place with an eclectic history, much like its owners - a strange, non-human woman named Aya and her werewolf business partner who simply calls himself Junior. With their rather unique staff, they deal with both the human and the supernatural residents of their town. Sometimes the worlds intersect in interesting - and occasionally violent - ways, though Aya does her best to keep the violence down to a minimum.

Lacey's was quiet, not an unusual occurrence for a Wednesday night. Aya surveyed her kingdom with the air of a benevolent ruler, smiling at the few regulars who hunched over drinks at the bar. There was a faint buzz of voices in her ear piece but as there weren't many people it was more the chatter of the collection of friends she had working for her than anything else. She nodded to Junior, her business partner and head bouncer. He grinned back.

Lacey's was a little, out of the way bar that had been many things since it's inaugural opening in 1921. A speakeasy, a dance hall, a billiards parlor, a restaurant, and now back to its original state of a bar. The only thing that stayed the same about the place were the stained glass windows. Rumor had it they'd been shot out by police during the Prohibition, but the owners just paid to get them replaced.

She glanced over at the two pool tables she had set up in the back. The usual crowd wasn't there yet, so they sat unused and silent. The dart players were there, laughing at each other when they missed the target. They weren't drunk yet so she didn't need one of her three bouncers chase them off.

She went back into her office and sat down behind the desk. The time sheets were already loaded into the computer. She started converting them from tiny bits of data into the hard copy paychecks she'd be handing out on Thursday.

“Hey boss, we've got two nuisances coming in,” Junior said. Though he was the co-owner of Lacey's, he preferred to act like he was just an employee.

“Who?” Aya asked.

“That reporter and a werewolf,” Junior said. “He's already pulling that attempt at alpha male shit at me.”

“Brendon told them to quit that,” Aya said.

“I don't think it's one of the pack,” Junior said. “He doesn't smell right and I don't recognize him.”

“Great, a stray,” Aya said. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Which one's more important?”

“The reporter. He's got a camera.” Junior's voice held a hint of a growl. “He's pointing it at Randy, who conveniently had to run into the back. Everyone else is hightailing it too. Coop, Alex, and I are the only ones left.”

“I'm on my way,” Aya said. She got up and walked out into the main area.

“Ms. Winters,” the reporter said, holding his camera in one hand. He extended the other. “I'm so glad to see you. I really think we could do a great piece on this place, with it's history and all. If you and your staff would stand for pictures, we'd show what a great little family you've got here.”

Aya snorted. Family was a good term for the ragtag bundle of misfits that worked for her. She stared at the reporter's hand until he dropped it. “Mr. Kelley, I've told you politely several times what my opinion on doing a piece on Lacey's is. Let me be more blunt this time. No, you're not going to get our pictures. No, I refuse to give you access to our records. No, I do not want an article published anywhere on our establishment. If you even so much as try, I'll have a lawyer up your ass so fast you'll need an enema to get him out.”

Not a good day

Sometimes things just go wrong no matter what you hope for.

As soon as she appeared in the entry way, her five cats descended on her, yowling. Aya laughed and filled their food dishes. They ate a little but soon Rocky, the only male of the bunch began trying to bury the bowl he preferred. She'd picked Rocky up from the shelter four years earlier, when he was only seven months old. He'd been neutered, but they told her they'd found him as a stray beside the road. When she asked a vet about his tendency to bury his food, she'd been told that for a cat rescued like Rocky had been that was perfectly normal. Strays had to bury their food in order to protect it from other animals.

She started towards her computer when her phone went off. She grabbed it and saw it was from Jesimae. She answered. Before she could even say anything, Jesimae cut in. “Aya, Will's in hysterics. I'm pretty sure Damon got to her apartment. It's trashed, anything of real value is either gone or smashed into pieces, and there are marks in blood all over it.”

Aya heard the other woman's sobs. “Get her as far away from there as possible,” Aya said. “Has she gone inside?”

“No,” Jesimae said. “We noticed this from the door. I wouldn't let Will in when I saw the bloody marks. They looked too much like runes.”

“Good,” Aya said. “Get her over here as soon as you can. If it was Damon who orchestrated this he's going to have some of his goons looking for her. Not to mention if those marks are what I think they are, it's too dangerous for her to go in.”

“All right. We'll be there quick as we can,” Jesimae said. She ended the call.

Aya sat down at her computer and turned it on. She smiled as it booted up instantly. Let others sing the praises of other operating systems. She loved her linux machine. It was up and ready long before any of the other operating systems she'd seen.

As soon as it was completely up she opened a browser window. She went to her bookmarks and selected one particular site. It asked for a password. Aya typed hers in. There was a momentary pause as it verified that she was who she said she was, and then the page began to load.

This was a page that only Otherworlders could access. The site would never stay in a browser history, the password would never save, and those that ran it had procured their own server and kept it under password lock as well. Those who needed it could access it. All others would never know of its existence.

When it was finished loading, she clicked on the link that would take her to the area where Otherworlders could check to see if someone they knew was incarcerated in a human prison. She glanced at the corner. It had been updated five minutes before she got it. She put in Damon's name and clicked the search button.

To her relief, Damon was still in the human prison. Not only was what he'd been arrested for according to the human authorities listed, but all of the crimes he'd committed against Otherworlders were there as well. Damon's list against the Otherworlders was long, with several serious offenses. He was usually too quick to get caught, and the enforcers in the Otherworld society had been looking for him for quite a number of years.

She read the note on the entry. Incarcerated in human jail. Enforcer sent. So they weren't taking any chances. They were going to take care of Damon for good. Aya sat back and regarded the page. She'd keep refreshing until she knew for sure what Damon's fate was. He had some powerful allies, and she didn't want to see him slip through the noose again.

Aya hates reporters

This is a little snippet from the very beginning of the story I restarted this weekend. It's a little snapshot into Aya's personality. Of course, she's far more complex than can be shown in a few paragraphs, but I thought this was a fun way to introduce you to her.

“Hey boss, we've got two nuisances coming in,” Junior said. Though he was the co-owner of Lacey's, he preferred to act like he was just an employee.

“Who?” Aya asked.

“That reporter and a werewolf,” Junior said. “He's already pulling that attempt at alpha male shit at me.”

“Brendon told them to quit that,” Aya said.

“I don't think it's one of the pack,” Junior said. “He doesn't smell right and I don't recognize him.”

“Great, a stray,” Aya said. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Which one's more important?”

“The reporter. He's got a camera.” Junior's voice held a hint of a growl. “He's pointing it at Randy, who conveniently had to run into the back. Everyone else is hightailing it too. Coop, Alex, and I are the only ones left.”

“I'm on my way,” Aya said. She got up and walked out into the main area.

“Ms. Winters,” the reporter said, holding his camera in one hand. He extended the other. “I'm so glad to see you. I really think we could do a great piece on this place, with it's history and all. If you and your staff would stand for pictures, we'd show what a great little family you've got here.”

Aya snorted. Family was a good term for the ragtag bundle of misfits that worked for her. She stared at the reporter's hand until he dropped it. “Mr. Kelley, I've told you politely several times what my opinion on doing a piece on Lacey's is. Let me be more blunt this time. No, you're not going to get our pictures. No, I refuse to give you access to our records. No, I do not want an article published anywhere on our establishment. If you even so much as try, I'll have a lawyer up your ass so fast you'll need an enema to get him out.”