The buzz said that something happened to Cody Warren during his time in Afghanistan, and that he knew more than a thing or two about the supernatural world. The stories proclaimed him a vampire. Having an interest in the paranormal, even though commonsense and everyday logic told Shayne he was wasting his time, he'd hung out in a few chat rooms and forums. He'd caught an interesting comment by one guy who confirmed in a private message that Del Fantasma was 'the' place to hang out. Amused but interested, Shayne researched and read so many good reports he decided that even if the place was full of superhero-worshiping geeks, a trip here was worth the effort.
In truth, his interest was probably more of a case that if he didn't experience the atmosphere for himself, he'd always wonder. What he felt was a bit like wanting to have sex with a man for the first time; it made his coming here all the more desirous. Shayne didn't know if he could believe half the things he'd heard about the bar--no doubt the truth was that the guy was just shell-shocked or something and imagined these things--but he'd come here anyway. The look in the man's eyes while he polished a glass from the other side of the bar almost made Shayne change his mind, but he'd traveled a long way and paid in advance for a motel room for a couple of nights.
At the very least, he wanted to get laid. He wasn't about to let a mere bartender put him off. Reports that were more credible said that Cody Warren wasn't just a bartender or a vampire; he owned Del Fantasma, but why would the owner of such a place tend the bar?
Shayne couldn't be certain if there was any truth to the rumours, but he'd planned this trip for months. The U. S. of A. was a big place and he lived more than half the country away from Point Loma, California. His interest in the area stemmed from his love of all things paranormal and nothing was going to chase him off until he'd spent one fun-filled night in the bar.
Not the red glint in Cody Warren's eye as the light struck his pupil in an odd way, or the glimpse of fang he was certain the bartender flashed him on purpose. Those teeth were likely plastic.
A tinge of disappointment and embarrassment came over Shayne. Of course the bar was all fake. How could he have expected anything else? Still, he'd put on his best dating outfit, the trousers hugged all his best attributes and his dark, soft curls were a perfect backdrop to his wide, dark eyes. A touch of eyeliner and the mere hint of colour on his lips was all he needed. Perhaps even this hint of glamour was too much for a bar like this. He'd get lynched in some places turning up with lipstick on, even if the tinge of colour was faint.
Cody's gaze flickered to the right before returning to his face. Shayne frowned. For a moment there, he could have sworn the guy glanced over his shoulder at someone, but who? Shayne was about to turn his head to look, when Cody put down the glass and leaned on the bar.
"What kind of slow screw would you like?"
The question came loaded with more than a hint of suggestion. One thing he hadn't heard about Cody was that the man was gay, and once more Shayne felt uneasy. He was fit and lean, but he was miles away from home and he didn't want to insult the man who could be the owner of this place. You never knew about these places. He started to imagine what could happen to a lone soul lost in one. He'd watched 'From Dusk 'Til Dawn' often enough.
Maybe Cody wasn't a vampire, but that didn't mean he wasn't some sort of mobster. Shayne hadn't told his family where he was going because he knew they'd laugh. They'd really laugh now if they heard his thoughts. His mother was always telling him that he let his imagination run away with him. If he turned down the man's advances, there was no knowing what might happen to him.
That is, if the man was even making an advance. Maybe Cody's glance was his signal to someone to escort him out of here, or worse, take him out back and show him that gay men weren't welcome. Not that he couldn't take care of himself. By no means huge or muscular, Shayne still knew a thing or two about self-defense. The trouble was, his height often made other men think they could best him. So far, no one had beaten him in a fight. He didn't want to fight, but for some reason guys just always wanted to get rough with him. That was fine, to a point. They never took the roughness in the direction he wanted though. He possessed the almost uncanny ability to pick up seriously violent guys, which was partly the reason he was here.
He'd heard other things about Cody Warren besides the stories of him being a vampire; things about his matchmaking skills. Shayne never looked for trouble, but all too often, trouble appeared to search him out. Some would say coming to a bar such as this was definitely in the category of seeking trouble.
Shayne dismissed the thought. He need only look around to see patrons far weirder than he was. He'd arrived quite early, but already a few more people entered and Shayne quickly saw that his fears about the slight make-up he wore were unfounded. A woman who reminded him of Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, pushed him aside with her breasts, blew a kiss at Cody and then moved on. Maybe Shayne looked too normal.
"What ... kind?" Shayne replied to Cody's question about the drink and let his confusion show on his face.
"Well, you see," Cody settled against the bar a little more comfortably, leaning on his elbows. Despite his misgivings, Shayne leaned forward before he realized what he was doing. "There's your simple Slow Screw. That's one shot vodka, half a shot of sloe gin, and a splash of orange juice. Pour it all into a double shot glass, mix it together and voila."
"Voila," Shayne repeated.
Cody nodded as though he imparted some worldly advice. "Then you have your Slow Comfortable Screw. You make that in a highball glass. That takes Sloe Gin, Southern Comfort, and Orange Juice."
Shayne nodded as though this information was very important. The distance between them closed. When had he leaned across the bar? Cody hadn't moved so it must have been he that leaned forward.
"Then you've got your Slow Fuzzy Screw up Against the Wall."
"Fuzzy?" Even Shayne heard the surprise in his voice. What he couldn't understand was the look of amusement that crossed Cody's face. The sudden certainty that Cody didn't let anyone see something on his face unless he wanted them to washed over him. Shayne didn't think the amused look was for his benefit. Still, although some instinct told him to look over his shoulder, he couldn't move.
"A Fuzzy Screw has vodka, peach schnapps, sloe gin, Galliano, and orange juice. And don't forget ice."
Something in the way Cody said 'ice' made Shayne shiver. "Ice," he repeated, feeling somewhat intoxicated, although he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol yet.
"Ice," Cody repeated.
Shayne felt heat, in his face, in his groin, but mostly at his back. A conviction that someone stood behind him washed over him while he was gathering enough nerve to ask for one of those fuzzy screws but another voice broke in on the conversation.
"Make him a Slow Screw Against the Wall In the Dark Side of Mexico City," a deep, resonant voice said.
Grinning, Cody picked up a glass, he moved along the line of bottles on the shelves behind the bar.
"What does that have in it?" Shayne asked Cody, ignoring the stranger at his back. Every muscle in his body wanted to turn around. Every instinct made him want to flinch away. He couldn't understand why he felt this way. Why every nerve in his body screamed in alert confused the hell out of him. Show no fear his mind silently shouted.
"Sloe Gin, Southern Comfort, Galliano, Tequila, Brown Rum, Orange Juice and Cola."
"The works then," Shayne laughed, fighting the urge to look behind him. He was partly afraid to look at the newcomer and partly afraid to take his gaze off Cody Warren. Whatever the cause, Shayne felt a little unsteady and if he'd already imbibed, he would have thought that someone had slipped something into his drink. He watched Cody prepare the alcoholic mix in front of him and stared into the liquid when Cody set it on the bar. He didn't pick it up to try it.
"I thought you wanted a screw," Cody said, and something teasing tinged his voice.
"H-How much?" Shayne stammered.
"Already taken care of." Cody nodded somewhere behind him but Shayne fought the urge to look. He ignored the stranger at his back hoping the guy would get the message. There was something in the man's voice that he didn't like. If he just ignored him, maybe he would go away.
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