Valhalla Bar Game Novels & Stories

She throws one of the emerald-colored scatter cushions at me. “I’ll shower in my room so you can use in here. What’s the name of the place we’re going so I can G****e it?” “It’s a small place, The Hive Bar & Grill. Trust me they do the best pickles and Reuben eggrolls. To die for.” I smack my lips together, damn thinking about it already is making my stomach growl. “Cool. I’m looking forward to it. I’ll grab a chocolate bar and a muffin from the kitchen to keep me going. My legs are so damn shaky.” I laugh.

The rich barley smell mixed with the already existing smell of wood polish, whiskey and faint exhaust fumes from the hundreds of bikes parked right outside, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if someone slipped me drugs under the table like in those old spy movies. “A toast,” the old man said, raising his glass of beer, and Colt leaned in to ask me if I would like something besides the spicy wings and skewers he had ordered for me. I shook my head with a small smile. The old man stood up now, his voice carrying over the bar. “To loyalty, to the road.” He raised his beer, and the crowd cheered. As I reached for one of the glasses at the center of the table, the raven-haired man touched it fir

The Capital feels like it’s a lifetime away from here. Crossing the street, I duck into the tavern before I can think of any reason not to. Inside the game is on, on a television hanging up in one corner. A heavyset man stands behind the long wooden bar, drying a glass with his bar towel. When he spots me, he seems surprised but not alarmed. On the wall opposite the bar, by the windows, are a series of high tables with chairs to match.

Nelxit bar was popular for its mead, a special selection said to have been learned by the bar keep during one of his trips to the north. The soldiers visited it more often than not, as it was the closest bar to the tower. Sethlzaar and his brothers, however, visited it less frequently than the full moon did the night sky. Although, it was never certain if it was because of their mild reluctance to be present among the citizens or the choice of not disrupting the fun of the soldiers.

Ash was flexing dramatically while Mac narrated his stats like a sportscaster. Milo ducked into his corner, heart still stuttering, sweat cooling on his skin. He hadn’t stopped smiling. "We’re not wasting a night like that in the hotel bar," Josh announced. "That was a statement game. I want music, overpriced drinks, and someone to yell at me over the bass." There was a chorus of agreement, growing louder with each voice. "Proper bar tonight," Mac said. "One that plays music you can actually dance to. Not that sad lounge attached to the hotel."

The bar is closed since it’s only noon. “I swear, I feel like it lately.” “When is Barbara coming back?” A loud voice calls from the storeroom. “I’m here. Don’t worry, I’m not dead yet.” Fleece rolls her eyes. “Of course not.” Barbara sweeps out of the back room in all her glory. A woman in her sixties whose very essence screams ‘New York.’ She’s carrying a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of vodka to replenish the stock behind the bar. “How you doin,’ Delia?”

It was almost seven when we arrived at Valiente. The bar's building was stunning, modern in design, and at first glance, you wouldn't think it was a place meant for entertainment. "Lyrica, let's head to our makeup room first. Sir Kyros might arrive later," Misha said to me. "Hey, Jessie, Misha, who’s your companion? Are you really bringing her inside?" teased the building guard with a grin. He was a big man with muscular arms, which made me cringe and hide behind the two of them.

“King is off the board. The queen has a semi‑free move. And the ghost of boyfriends' past is knocking.” Lys dragged a hand over her face. “Don’t start.” *** Valeria chose a private bar for her meeting. Neutral territory that was anything but. She arrived early, of course. She always did. Poised at the corner of the bar, one ankle hooked over the other, a glass of expensive vodka in hand. When Kael walked in, she smiled like she’d been expecting him her whole life. “Kael,” she purred. “You look tired. Marriage not agreeing with you?”

Elias looks back at the bedroom door, then at the three men on his doorstep, then at his jacket on the hook by the door. He picks up the jacket. The bar is the kind of place that has been exactly the same for twenty years, the same sticky counter and the same televisions playing two different sports simultaneously and the same bartender who knows everyone’s usual and has opinions about none of it. They take the booth in the back corner and the drinks appear, and for a while it is simply four people who have known each other long enough to stop performing anything. “Right,” Dex says, pointing at the screen. “Explain to me how that was not a foul.”

Comes Ilya’s reply, and one of the guards immediately drives his fist into his face; his head snaps sideways violently, and blood fills his mouth instantly and rolls down the corner of his mouth. Valen sighs dramatically and takes a drag of his cigar. “You see? That answer annoys me.” Ilya spits blood onto the floor and smirks despite the pain. “Then stop asking stupid questions,” he retorts, and just like that, another punch lands, this time against his ribs, hard enough to make his vision flicker. Fuck, he feels dizzy. Valen continues to smile, as if seeing Ilya in pain gives him nothing but satisfaction. “My men said they lost you near the eastern district bar. Interesting place to wander