Styx's Storm

chapter 1The bar was hopping, music pounding, drinks flowing smoothly and customers packing the bar area and dance floor. It was one of those country hole-in-the-walls that attracted both criminal elements as well as the upper class and everything in between. It was one of those places Storme could slide into, and her scent became masked by the dozens of sweating, lusty, alcohol-infused bodies that filled it. It was one of the few ways to hide from paranormal senses and extrasensory capabilities. It was one of the few places Storme had a hope of resting before she had to run again. And God knew, she was tired. Exhaustion was beginning to swamp her, desperation was clawing at her back, and fear was a companion she hadn t separated from in far too long. She wanted to rest. Was there a saying about no rest for the wicked? There was. She must have been wicked in a former life though, because this life had just been spent running. Whiskey shot and a beer, she said wearily as the waitress came to the table. Pulling a few of the precious bills from her pocket, she slid the money to the waitress when she returned. She tossed back the whiskey, then chased the burn with the icy bitterness of the beer and blew out a slow, deep breath before looking around. The band was actually pretty good here, the lead singers sultry when they needed to be, hard and filled with desperation when the song called for it. The smell of cigarette smoke, booze, sweat and lust was so strong it didn t take Breed senses to detect it, Storme Montague decided as she sat in the corner of the room and watched the customers milling through the large area. A human with any sense of smell could detect it. Moving to the corner of the booth, she hunched into the shadows and watched the crowd, knowing that even here there was danger. She had glimpsed it as she rushed inside and skirted the edge of the room to get as far away from it as possible. From where she sat she could see the Breeds in the far corner as