The smell of beer and cigarettes was strong and bitter, smacking me in the face as soon as I stepped through the door. Grimacing, I started my trek through the small, seedy bar. I was a woman on a mission and I had spent the better part of three weeks on this mission, trying to find them. I finally tracked them to this place. They were sitting in the far back corner, sipping their drinks. I was hoping and praying with all my might that they weren't on a run, because if they were then I would definitely have screwed up my mission..
The leather of my biker pants creaked with every step, my steel toe boots thudding softly on the wood planks of the floor. A drunk slapped my ass as I walked by him. Jumping, I bit back a yelp, whirling on the drunk as he laughed uproariously with his cohorts. He stopped laughing the second he heard the low growl slide past my lips. Putting my hands on either side of him, on the chair's armrests, I leaned in close to his face.
"Wanna try that move again, funny man?" My voice was low and tight with the anger that I felt. He stammered out something unintelligible and I was hit with the smell of the amount of liquor this man had consumed, making my lip curl. "Yeah, that's what I thought," I said and stood straight, turning away from the drunk. My rain beaded, leather motorcycle jacket creaked, as if in protest, with each of my movements. I swallowed my anger and moved to stand at the edge of their table. Clearing my throat, I caught their attention. Both women looked at me, their opposite appearances catching me off guard.
The one sitting on my left couldn't have been much taller than myself. Her curly, flaming red hair was pulled back in a braid, a few stray strands had gotten out to curl about her face. Green eyes that peered out of extremely flawless features seemed curious and observant. This one was Rachel Morgan, so that must mean the other had to be Ivy Tamwood.
Ivy's features were even more startling. Her cat-like, Asian features were enough to make anyone swoon. I almost did when she turned those almond shaped eyes toward me, which were a breath taking color of chocolate brown. Her short black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, leaving her pale, angular features to be framed by short, neat bangs. She was much taller than I, maybe 6'1'' to my puny 5'8''. From what I could see of her, she was long of limb, leg and torso with high, small breasts.
I bit my lower lip, wincing, because I had forgotten about my lip ring. It clicked harshly against my teeth. I let my lip go and forced a smile. Swallowing to wet my suddenly dry throat.
"Ms. Tamwood, Ms. Morgan, I'm Seraphine Walker. I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time?" I inquired softly, my pulse suddenly thundering in my throat now.
"Whatever you're selling, we don't want it," Ivy said, her voice was low and sultry, making things low in my body grow tight, but there was something threatening to the sound. It said 'Back the fuck off'. It made me contemplate stepping back for a moment.
"N-no, it's n-nothing like th-that." I stammered. "I was wondering if I could get a position in your firm. That's all." Both of them stayed silent. I stepped back up to their table feeling a bit more brave now. "I am a freelance runner, but Im getting sick of the shit runs that I have been getting and the even more shitty pay that I get for doing them... I need this job more than anything else right now. I got evicted from my apartment. I'm about to get my motorcycle impounded. Living with my parents and siblings is hell on toast!" That made them both grin slightly. I let out a soft sigh and slid a card onto the table. "I'll understand if you don't want to hire me, but if you do consider it, my cell number is on the card... You're the only runner serviceI can find, that I even see worth working for. I don't want to get sucked into a contract with the I.S., either," I gave another sigh when they stayed silent. "I am sorry for bothering you. I'll let you get back to your drinks," With that, I turned on my heel, leaving the bar in a hurry.