| Tongue Tied

*   *   *

Bonnie stared at the man, tongue-tied, and watched as his pale green eyes peered back at her with an expression she couldn't understand. Was he surprised, modified, or angry? His thick, dark, wavy hair looked tousled. His strong set of square jaw was set in a tight clench. And his sexy lips... Damn! Those lips looked like they were made for bad, bad things. He wore an expensive suit, complete with a tie. Bonnie knew his suit was freaking expensive because she was very much her father's daughter. What she couldn't fathom though, was why he was looking at her so darkly. If she was to guess, he had probably caught her gawking at Joan's panties and now thought she was some kind of pervert.

      Shit! Why did she always have bad luck with good-looking men? 

      Bonnie cleared her throat. "Hmm... Err, what you saw back there... What you saw me looking at... Shit! What I mean to say is it's not how it looks." Lord! She was stammering. How convenient. 

      "And what, pray to tell, do you think I think?" he finally asked after what seemed like ages. Bonnie glanced away for a second in an attempt to control her beating heart. His voice felt like a hot coal on her clitoris and as hard as she was trying to control her emotions, it seemed to get worse with every breath she took. She glanced back at him and bit her bottom lips.

      "Are you trying to gauge me?" she asked in response. With the way her cheeks were inflamed, anyone from a two-mile radius could see just how embarrassed she was. Talk more of him. He was trying to get a rise out of her. 

       "You tell me," he said and picked up a bottle from somewhere beneath the counter. "You were the one assuming my thoughts a few moments ago. So it's safe to assume you are some kind of mind reader or something."

      Bonnie's eyes widened. "Are you trying to insinuate that I am a supernatural?" she blurted. "Do you know how absurd that is?"

      A slow smile began to creep along his handsome face. "And why would that be absurd? You look very much like a witch if you ask me."

     Bonnie stared at the handsome man in front of her for a minute then she suddenly burst out laughing. Now she knew he was playing with her. "We both know that supernaturals no longer exist in our world, the war made sure of that."

      "It sure did, didn't it?" he said, his voice fading into a whisper. There was an edge to his voice that made it seem like he was sad about the knowledge.

      "I don't know what would make you think I was a witch but-" Bonnie's words were cut short by the cry of a familiar voice. She immediately turned around and the sight before her turned her blood to ice.

      Joan was in the middle of the dance floor wrapped in the arms of a lanky-looking guy who looked like trouble. She was struggling to get out of his grip but the more she tried, the harder the bastard held on to her.

     "Get your hands off me," Bonnie faintly heard Joan cry and immediately, she was jerked into action. She slipped off the bar stool and began running toward her friend. The hot bartender - completely forgotten.

     "Get away from her," Bonnie yelled as she reached them. She made a move to grab Joan's arm so she could pull her away, but then she came to a complete halt, her body instantly freezing to the spot as the stench of something vile and familiar hit her. She immediately stopped breathing in an attempt to push away the stench, even if it was for a moment because she couldn't believe what she just perceived. 

The last time Bonnie perceived this stench was over twenty years ago, during the war. Bonnie had discovered quite early as a kid that she could smell a supernatural whenever she was near one. An ability she had considered a curse until her father discovered it. She had thought all supernaturals were gone forever. How was it possible that she could smell one now, out in the open and amid humans?

     Bonnie stumbled away from the man and Joan, her heart beating so loudly she couldn't hear anything else. This was bad. This was bad. If this man was supernatural then the council needed to hear about it. 

     "I thought the lady said to let her go." It was as if a warm puddle began brewing within her at the sound of his voice. Bonnie turned around to see her bartender. Her bartender? She shook her head and tried to forget she ever thought that. He was standing next to her with his hands in his pant pocket, all suited up like he was on his way to a conference meeting or something. Bonnie realized she had forgotten to ask him about it earlier, about his dressing. He couldn't be the bartender dressed like that. Or could he? Bonnie didn't know anymore. She hadn't been able to think straight from a few seconds ago, until now. It was as if his being close to her was calming her down somehow. 

     "Or what?" Bonnie heard the supernatural say. 

     "I don't think you'd like the answer to that question. You have one second to let the lady go or so help me God." The supernatural flinched and so did Bonnie at the power of his voice. Bonnie couldn't understand what was happening but one minute she was scared shitless and the next she felt as calm as a dove.

      "Whatever," the man grunted and let go of Joan who then stumbled into Bonnie's arms. Bonnie turned around to thank her savior only to discover he was nowhere in sight. The little crowd that had gathered around them had dispatched and the dance floor was filled with swaying bodies again.