I didn't imagine my wake-up would be at a bar. Most people go to a bar to stamp out truths they rather would have been kept buried. Me, I had to go to a bar to find the truth. Rather, the truth found me.

I was on a hunt, like most nights. It was a Saturday night, so Tristan was working late at the restaurant. I could have hung around in the kitchen with him, but it was nice to have time away from him every so often. Lately, we had been so joined at the hip that our relationship ran the risk of burning out too soon. Our sex-life was far from going stale, but some days it felt like we had nothing to talk about.

Tristan may have been right in saying that we had a lot in common in terms of our abilities and the state of our humanity, but there was a lot that we did not have in common.

For instance, I had been raised as a human with moral values. Tristan had never had a childhood, or learned about moral values beyond the actions he had observed and mimicked from the humans around him. Sure, we had both died and come back to life, but he had made that particular trip three times over, in different centuries each time. Then, there was the matter of his power to manipulate matter.

He didn't use it often, but when he did, it gave me a chill. Once, at "Dave's Shack," we had been alone in the restaurant. It was after closing time, and we were sharing a meal of burgers, fries, and a milkshake Tristan had prepared. After a couple of sips on the thick, chocolate shake, I needed the salty goodness of fries to counter the sugar. Ketchup was a must with fries. Unfortunately, I only saw a bottle of mustard on the table.

Tristan could feel my relaxed state change. "What? What's missing?"

"No ketchup." I pointed at the mustard bottle.

"Well, that's no problem."

Tristan placed a hand on the neck of the mustard bottle. In a few seconds, the dull yellow within the glass was flooded with red. Presto! Change-o! The red took over, and the mustard was no more.

Tristan handed me the bottle. "There ya go."

His off-handedness about the transformation made me uneasy, as did the transformation itself. It showed just how alien he really was.

All these thoughts and more went through my head as I sat at the lacquered bar, sipping my drink. Usually, I didn't stop for downtime during a hunt. But I was on the trail of a scent that was eluding me. The end of the trail had led me to the bar, and it was full of human scents masking my target's own special perfume.

Every sip of my soda allowed me the chance to discreetly scan the crowd in search of Lillin on the prowl. When a body settled onto the barstool to my right, I knew my prey had found me. Without turning my head, I could smell that the offensive odor was unmistakably coming off of the thing next to me. I brought my glass to my lips, trying to look casual.

I needn't have tried anything.

"What are you drinking?" From the sound of it, I was dealing with a demon that looked like a man.

To maintain my relaxed façade, I enjoyed a slow sip before answering. "Coke."

"Coke? Like rum and Coke?"

"No, just coke."

"Huh." This seemed to strike it as odd. "You in AA?"

"Not at all. I don't like to drink while I'm working."

I still hadn't turned to face it, but I could hear its lascivious grin.

"A working girl. Well...," I remained quiet and let it continue on with its assumption. "How would you like to work for me? Right now?"

Now was the time for my smile. "What kind of job did you have in mind?"

"Oh, I have various jobs in mind."

He touched my arm briefly. A black pattern warranted my attention. It was a tribal tattoo, like a circle design. The location of the tattoo gave me pause: it was on his hand. In the moonlight from a distance, it could have resembled a cookie. Or a flower.

* * * * *

I knew what the demon's choice in body art meant for me. The same tattooed fiend that Tristan had supposedly killed weeks ago was leading me to the back alley of the bar in hopes of draining me dry.

It means that you're a fool, and that Tristan is nothing more than an evil demon, the smart part of my brain told me.

If he had lied about killing the Lillin, then what else had he lied about?

Actually, he had never told me that he had killed the demon. I had assumed that he had. After that first hunt together, the physical aspect of our relationship had taken over, and I had never thought to verify if he had killed the tattooed-villain or not. I had...forgotten. Really, I hadn't cared, even though I should have. Once I had seen Tristan's gleaming, wet chest, there wasn't a whole lot else on my mind.

Tristan's possible deception wasn't an issue. The bigger issue was the Lillin that was facing me with his mirror eyes, ready for a back-alley sexual encounter.

"Get on your knees and get to work, girl."

"Yeah, the thing is, I only wrap my hands around one tool." I withdrew my sword so quickly that sparks showered out along with it.

"I wondered about that. Just thought you were kinky." The Lillin backed away from me. "But, I have something I was holding back as well."

He was there, and then, he wasn't.

"That's not fair."

My protest echoed in the empty space. It was dark, with faint light coming from

a streetlight above me. The orange glow created shadows and gave everything a sallow tinge.

"You're running away again," I said to the empty space.

There was a tap on my shoulder, prompting me to spin around, sword held high.

"Not running."

In a patch of light, the demon showed what it meant by disappearing completely. Where his mass had stood, a shadow of vapor was quickly evaporating.

"Tricky. That would make you a Djinn, not a Lillin. A teleporting Djinn."

Even though, I couldn't see him, talking out loud helped me to remain calm. I still felt in control of the situation as long as I was could babble on.

His unique power was most likely why he had been able to stay off my radar all these weeks. The only reason I'd found him was by chance. That and my need to find more Lillin to hunt. I hadn't found any in a few days, and when I had caught this scent, I'd been glad. My reason for lingering in Naples had still been valid. I was not wasting my time. Of course, I knew I was wasting time, but I wasn't prepared to admit that, yet. After tonight, I knew I could no longer stay.

First, I would have to kill two Djinn. Then I could move on with my original mission.

"C'mon out. Let's settle this like the non-humans we both are. I've got things to do."

The Djinn countered my taunt by teleporting himself on top of me. I collapsed under the weight of his stone body, and he had me pinned. No matter how hard I wriggled, kicked, and squirmed, it was useless. I might as well have been crushed by a boulder.

"You promised me a good time, and a good time is what we're gonna have."

One statue-like hand moved down to undo the belt buckle on its pants. Its other arm was draped across my chest, a fallen tree to keep me in place. I had never been trapped so by a Djinn before.

"How is it that you're so goddamned heavy?"

As it worked to shimmy its pants down one-handed, it answered me: "I'm not stronger than any of my brothers and sisters. Teleporting exerts a force stronger than any physical manifestation, so if I perpetually teleport every fraction of a second or so, I'm stronger than ten Djinn combined. It also keeps me from sustaining injuries...." The demon stared at the sword still grasped in my pinned hand, "...from any sort of weapon."

I chuckled. "Wonderful."

Not that I needed a weapon to kill the cocky bastard. Unleashing my fire lore would work. But, there was something I wanted to try first. I had a feeling it would take less energy than I usually had to exert, and plus, it would probably look cool.

"I'd say we've talked long enough. Time for action."

Actually, time for me to try my idea. "Why don't you kiss me to get things started. Then you can put anything else that you want into my mouth."

"Now, that is the attitude I was hoping for!" It brought its open mouth down onto mine, trusting me. Putz.

When our mouths came together, I tried not to be taken in by the seduction it offered. It was hard not to give in and kiss it back, but when I thought of Tristan's betrayal, it suddenly wasn't hard at all. I breathed into him, not only breath, but fire. Warmth, flames, and death spread from his tongue to his throat, into his lungs, and every other crevice the demon had hoped that I would lick. He was burning up from the inside, and I waited patiently for it to rain ashes. I didn't wait for very long. His skin reddened, then blackened, and then he exploded into the familiar ash cloud of a dead Djinn.

One down, one to go.