The Dark Side of Eleanor Warwick

Tina jumps when the drunken lout grabs her bottom.

The waitress spins and swats the hand a few seconds too late. The man and a few friends laugh as she storms away from their table in a huff. Slapping her tray down on the bar, she grumbles. “Mickey. Table two.”

Her boss, a portly old fellow with a scruffy, graying beard, looks up from his inventory list. He removes his reading glasses and looks past her to the laughing table. Times past, he’d have ignored her complaint and chewed her out for whining, but these days, he has a new policy.

Grabbing a pump-action shotgun from behind the bar, Mickey rounds the counter and steps toward table two. The men stop laughing and their eyes widen. The bartender rests his finger on the trigger. “All of you,” he says, gesturing toward them. “Out.”

Glancing to one another, the patrons hesitate. The handsy one speaks up. “Oh, come on, Mickey. We were just- .”

The loud pump of the weapon cuts him off. “I’m not telling you again,” Mickey warns. After a tense moment, the men slowly rise from the table and file out of the tavern. Mickey watches them go before looking around to the few remaining customers. “Sorry, folks. Next round is on me.”

He returns to the bar to find Tina leaning against it. “Thanks,” she says with a grateful smile.

“Forget it. One of these days people are gonna figure out you can’t do that kind of crap here.” The two stare at each other for an uncomfortable moment. “Anymore,” he adds.

The waitress nods before something beyond him catches her eye. She perks up and straightens her hair. “Hello there,” she says lasciviously.

Mickey turns to see the statuesque man in the expensive suit whose arrival has certainly elicited the reaction. A shorter, equally well-dressed fellow follows behind him.

Adrian Blackwell glances around the establishment with unmasked disgust. The bartender returns to his waitress to find her adjusting her skirt. “How do I look?” she asks.

Mickey smiles, his mouth full of artificially white teeth. “Beautiful.”

Sticking her chest out, Tina moves to greet the customers with a swaying saunter. She flashes a pretty smile as Adrian notices her.

“Evening, gentlemen,” she welcomes. “My name is Tina and I’ll be your waitress tonight. Can I show you to a table?”

Staring down at her, Adrian opens his hand to Matthew. His brother places a paper in his palm. Tina scans the printout as he holds it out to her. “Do you know this woman?”

“Yeah. That’s Jessie. She used to work here. She quit a month or so ago.”

“Do you know where she lives?”

With a disappointed sigh, Tina crosses her arms. They aren’t potential sugar daddies slumming for a night. They’re cops or the like. “Why? Who are you?” she asks defensively.

He narrows his eyes. “I’m somebody you don’t want to piss off.” Adrian steps closer. “Where can I find her?”

Tina slinks back, swallowing hard. Before she can answer, Mickey steps in between them. “Can I help you?”

Adrian looks the bartender over. He shows the file. “We’re looking for this girl.”

Mickey tries not to react to the photo. In truth, he knows Jessica Blackwell, who he only knew as Jessie, pretty well. She was his favorite waitress to berate, curse, and abuse. Yet, they somehow managed a weird kind of respect for one another before she left with the girl in the glasses and never returned.

“Never seen her before,” he answers, looking Adrian in the eye.

“Matthew,” Adrian says without looking at him, “I think you, me, and these two need some privacy.”

The younger Blackwell walks past the trio as Mickey backs toward the bar, keeping Tina behind him. Matthew glances toward them and smiles a pleasant smile that Mickey finds strangely disturbing. The tavern’s remaining customers had already turned their attention to the confrontation. They stare at Matthew as he approaches, watching in quiet tension.

Extending his arm, Matthew moves his hand in a circular motion. His hand leaves a soft trail of violet light behind. Once a full circle is created, he pulls his hand back before pointing her arm through the ring. A swirling cone of dark energy emerges from the circle. The tempest grows as a room full of shocked eyes stare in terrified awe. The panic doesn’t begin until the cone begins to pull the drinkers in. First, the suction yanks their glasses and bottles from the tabletop. An empty chair quickly follows, disappearing into the vortex.

The men jump up to frantically escape, but it’s futile. One of them makes it three steps. He’s the lucky one. One by one, the devouring swirl sucks them in.

Tina screams and ducks behind her boss as the lights in the bar flicker and glass bottles rattle on the shelves. Mickey is tempted to shout out as well, but Adrian’s steely eyes hold his attention. Once the spell retreats back into his hand, Matthew closes his fist tight.

Adrian smirks. Smiling proudly is not in his nature. Nonetheless, pride is there. His kid brother will never be as ruthless as their father or himself, but he can be devious when the mood strikes him. There were quicker and easier ways to remove the customers. Yet, Matthew chose to dispose of them in the loudest, most frightening manner he could, sending a clear message to the two who remained.

Casually brushing off his sleeve, Matthew rounds behind the bar. Adrian steps toward Mickey, his face grim. “It would be just as easy to make you disappear,” he cautions. “Now, let’s try this again. Where can I find Jessica Blackwell?”

Mickey wishes he wasn’t trembling. He just hopes the maniac doesn’t notice. Fat chance of that, he figures. Words that Jessie spoke during an awkward conversation suddenly make a great deal more sense. She talked about power and secret worlds. It was confusing to hear at the time, but is clear as day when smashed in the face with it. Still, the bartender steels himself. “I- I told you. I don’t know her.”

Adrian scowls. “Suit yourself.” With a casual wave of his hand, unseen forces jerk Mickey to the side. His head whips violently as he strikes the floor. Tina’s mouth falls open as Adrian looms over her. Mickey scrambles to his feet, ignoring the whiplash. He lunges at Adrian, but another simple gesture tosses him into a table, sending both crashing to the ground.

Tina can’t take her eyes away from Adrian’s dark glare. “Tina. If I have to ask again, I will find a very slow way for you to die.”

Lip trembling, Tina falls to her knees. “I don’t know!” she cries. “I haven’t seen her since she quit!”

Adrian glances at Matthew as he pours alcohol onto a rag and smears it on the mirror behind the bar. Shaking his head, he kneels in front of Tina. “Not what I want to hear.”

“I’m sorry!” she screams, tears running down her face. “Please!”

“Stop!” Adrian glances over his shoulder as Mickey struggles to pick himself up. “Don’t hurt her! I’ll tell you what you want to know!”

Adrian stands and straightens his jacket. He steps toward Mickey, staring down with utter contempt. “So, you’ve decided you do know her, have you?”

Mickey sneers. “Just leave her alone.”

“Talk and we’ll see.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Mickey looks at Tina before taking a deep breath. “She...she left with a woman with glasses.”

Adrian scoffs. “That doesn’t tell me anything.”

“She drives a very unique car. An AMC Hornet. My booze supplier saw the same car when he was making a delivery to a club downtown.”

Narrowing his eyes, Adrian gauges his honesty. “What’s the name of this club?”

“I...,” Mickey swallows hard, knowing the answer will not be welcomed, “I don’t know.” Adrian’s hand clasps his throat with the speed of a cobra. His brows narrow angrily. “Wait!” Mickey gargled. “I know where it is!”

“Enlighten me.”

“Winston at Hester!”

With a shove, Adrian slammed Mickey’s head into the floor. “Thank you for your assistance,” he spits. Returning to the bar, he looks past Matthew to what he smeared on the glass. The question Am I happy now? is barely legible across the mirror. Adrian turns away without comment. Matthew frowns as he rounds the bar.

“Let’s go. We have a club to find. You.” His voice is calm, but Tina still jumps. She was focusing all her attention on Mickey, willing him to wake up. “Is there a back door?”

“Y-yes,” she answers meekly, pointing toward it.

Adrian nods to Matthew and the brothers each head toward one of the exits. Tina glances back and forth, confused. Suddenly, she realizes what they’re doing. “No!” she shrieks, leaping to her feet. She grabs the handle to the front door and pulls with all her might, but it doesn’t budge. Running back to Mickey, Tina drops to her knees and shakes him. “Mickey! Mickey, get up! Please, God, get up!”

Mickey blinks as he stares up at her. “Sorry, Tina.”

“No,” she whines, shaking her head and crying.

“I’m sorry,” he vacantly repeats over and over.

Adrian waits outside the front door, sealed by his magic, until Matthew circles around to meet him.

“Do the honors,” he says as he starts down the street.

Matthew retrieves a stick of gum from his coat and pops it in his mouth. With a snap of his fingers, the tavern bursts into flames. The fire spreads with unnatural speed. Flipping up his collar, he follows after his brother.