Spirits Novels & Stories

the leader asked bluntly. Alex remained silent, his eyes avoiding his leader’s. He knew what could happen if he mentioned the book Scarlett had. It was the very book they had been searching for for years, a relic that held secrets about the supernatural world—secrets none of them wanted to fall into the wrong hands. The revelation would condemn Scarlett and lead to the destruction of the book along with her; the punishment for possessing it was death. So he took a deep breath and simply shook his head. “It’s nothing,” he replied in a controlled voice, while the echo of the truth pounded inside him.

Collections of wine, all categories from foreign brandy and whisky to champagnes and red wines. Wayne grabbed a bottle of Johnnie Walker's Black Label and poured himself a hearty glass. He put in a few cubes of ice from the fridge and took a long swig at it. The whisky rushed down his throat, dousing every ounce of desire left. Nothing like a good glass of alcohol to relax you and summon sleep. He heard Rojan descend the steps and come to join him at the bar, he climbed atop one of the bar stools. Wayne gingerly poured another glass for him.

But Evan is not done; “For the taste… it lacks even the tiniest pretense of structure. The acidity of it is quite shrill, like a sharp, headache-inducing shriek, this time on the tongue. It is quite gritty, and evokes the sensation of chewing on balsa wood. If I’m being honest, it tastes like the ingredients used in its formulation are constantly at war with themselves. Not mixing, not in harmony, just… in constant anarchy.” He leans forward slightly, delivering a final blow; “I think the best term for this concoction is “undrinkable.” Not only is it bad, for that exorbitant price, it is an insult to the intelligence of anyone who dares to buy it. Selling this should be some form of consumer

Cyrus’s voice was light and pleasant, while his friend looked out of sorts. “Ghost?” He nodded, slightly happier that I said his name. “Is that your real name?” He shook his head no but didn’t respond. Okay then. The guys drained their drinks in a single gulp. Cyrus enjoyed his while Ghost made a face. “Here.” I took his glass and filled it from a different bottle, which we kept away from view. “Try this.” A slow grin formed as he tasted the drink. “Smoother and delicious?” He nodded. “Bourbon is made from more corn and less rye. The oak barrels help form the caramel and vanilla sweetness. Cheap rye tastes like battery acid to a discerning palate.”

**FERAL FURY PACK** Lucifer groaned as the morning sun pierced through the curtains, hitting his eyes with a harsh glare. His head throbbed, a relentless reminder of the night before. He sat up slowly, his body heavy and sluggish. As he reached for his phone on the nightstand, the screen lit up with the notification of 42 missed calls—20 from Spike, 20 from Mikhail, and two from Viktor. He sighed, his mind hazy as the events of last night slowly resurfaced. Two bottles of *Everclear*, notorious for its 100% alcohol content, had been more than enough to knock him out. He wondered how he’d managed to fall so deep into the bottle, completely losing himself in the process.

I startled and turned to face him too quickly because, I swear, I stopped my body, but the room kept spinning. “Is there something in my drink?” I stumbled across the words. He frowned. “Do I strike you as the sort who would drug women? I have no need to do such a thing.” He took the nearly empty glass from my hand. “Have you ever had Orlune de Peche sparkling spirits?” I shook my head. “It’s one hundred and twenty-five proof.” I pulled back my head in confusion. “Proof of what?” He chuckled. “The alcohol content. It’s nearly sixty percent. It’s meant to be sipped, not gulped. You’re already several drinks in.”

He glanced up towards the man before his wife. “The reason it’s not a Holy War is that we don’t have the spear that killed Jesus. Nor do we have the chalice and we’re not battling in the Holy City.” He felt Ava’s hand laced into one of his, allowing him to explain further. “A Spirit War is what we’re in the middle of, fighting for the souls of this world.” He glanced around the room. “But it seems that he wants to have a war here in Spokane.”

“Dear, do you mind hosting these fine gentlemen?” Sara only nodded and began to pour the tea for the men. With hesitation, they looked at the tea with disbelief. Herbert was the first to sip on the tea, and his expression was amazement. The tea was what was served with Gerold and the girls when they stayed in the small world, and it would enhance the cultivation and remove all fatigue they would have by working so hard. “What is this?” Herbert asked. With this, I can advance to a new level. “It’s a spirit tea, and it’ll help with all fatigue of the hard day, and it’s quite tasty,” Sara explained, sipping her cup.

he slurred almost incoherently. “What is your name?” I asked. “Oh... my name?” “Yes, I’m Abby,” I explained. “Yeah... I’m... Leon... pleasure to... meet ya,” he slurred his response, which did ring some bells in my mind, but I couldn’t place them. I smiled kindly at him and could feel a tremendous sadness come from him in waves. He was trying to drink his sorrow away. I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of sorrow he was feeling to be so drunk.

Lucas walked to the other side of the bar. “What will you drink? We have every type of drink you may want.” “Uhm - “I scanned the shelves that certainly had different types of drinks from whiskeys to vodkas to tequilas and even brandies. Most of them were definitely exotic high-end liquors as I had only seen some of them during workplace events and high-end social events in Atlanta. “I don’t know. Just anything light, please.” “Light? Pff!” Vivian scoffed mockingly. “Get her a Macallan scotch. Girl, you need to turn up!” she laughed, swaying her hand to a hum she made.