Urban Fantasy Novel Excerpt

“We’re closed!” I called out, still pulling glasses out. I could hear a multitude of boots thumping across the wood floor of the bar. I hissed a frustrated breath out through my teeth. Standing, I shouted, “I said we’re…” I trailed off when I saw who’d come in. It was the guy from earlier in the night—the shifter. And he’d brought all his friends back. A knot of fear cinched tightly in my gut when I saw their faces. All of them, including the guy who I’d thought had been flirting with me, looked furious. Like, ready-to-fight furious. The worst part was the fact that they were all looking at me. Like I’d made them mad. Trying not to let my fear show, I cleared my throat. “Sorry, guys. We closed over an hour ago. If you want service, you’ll have to come back tomorrow night.” Ignoring me, the guy I’d been talking to stepped up to the bar and slammed his palms down on it. The impact reverberated through the bar like a gunshot. “You shouldn’t even exist.” I took an involuntary step back, shocked by the disgust in his voice. He was looking at me like I was something foul stuck to his shoe. What had happened in the last two hours? The jovial, charming grin was gone. All I saw now was the curled lip of loathing. He looked back at his boys. “Smell that? Was I lying?” The rest of his friends shook their heads, one of them sniffing at the air and making a deep, throaty growl. Cold sweat slid down my back, my eyes darting around at all the other men. None of their faces showed the slightest hint of compassion. Some had even moved to the ends of the bar, cutting off any escape I might have had. My breath started to hiss in and out my nose in panicked bursts. What was about to happen to me? Robbery? Murder? Assault? A thousand nightmare scenarios flashed through my mind. The shifter leaned forward, getting as close as the bar would allow. “Your bloodline should have been completely wiped out. The whole lineage was supposed to be dead. It looks like some of that tainted blood slipped through the cracks.” I bumped into the shelf of liquor behind me. A bottle of tequila and a pint of whisky fell off the shelf, shattering onto the floor. The pungent aroma of alcohol burned my nose. What was he talking about? “I don’t know what you mean,” I said, my voice uncharacteristically low and quiet. He shook his head and spat on the ground. “Doesn’t matter. You’ll be gone soon enough. Go.” At the word, his men leaped to action. They moved so fast, I could barely register what was happening. Blurs of motion, screams and growls, the shimmering, angry flash of their red eyes. The last thing I remembered was a searing pain in my sides, followed by an explosion of pain at the back of my head. After that, everything went dark.