March 1983
Smoke filled the bar. She lifted the glass to her lips and let the whiskey flow over her tongue. She needed that burn, that warmth. Everything about this job felt wrong to her. It wasn't that she didn't understand why but the fact that it went against every code, every rule that they followed felt wrong to her.
Ella looked up, eyes focusing on her reflection in the mirror behind the bar.
Behind her a bar band was doing a bad cover of 'Hot Blooded' by Foreigner. She had picked this place because she figured it would be easy to hide away. She didn't realize when she first pulled in that it would get so crowded. For all the roughness of the songs this band seemed to attract a crowd.
Or maybe there is just nothing else to do in this town.... The thought rolled through her mind as another drink of whiskey moved over her tongue.
She wasn't here to party or dance like the rest. She was just passing through. Ella had a job to do, even if she didn't agree with it. Mark was sick. Cursed more than sick and it was her job to find the one thing that would help them. Her problem was, as s hunter she was supposed to destroy such items, not recover them. That was their sole purpose. Find and destroy, take down those supernatural things and people tied to them.
Of course that is what got Mark cursed to begin with.
Then again he was sloppy so.... She let the treasonous thought pass. Mark was in charge. Even if he had let his guard down and go caught was it right for her to criticize the one who tasked with keeping them all organized?
Ella couldn't help but wonder if it had been one of the other hunters if they would have been so quick to find and salvage this thing or if the hunter would have been left to die so that they didn't go against their code? Part of her felt Mark and the council were more concerned about saving his hide than the code.
"Another?"
Ella looked from her reflection to the bartender. A glance down found her whiskey gone.
"Double this time, please." She slid her glass away. The man picked it up, giving her a smile.
"Careful now hun, some of the men here might try and take advantage if you get too tipsy." He looked her over.
"I'll be fine. Promise." Even at 5'5 Ella was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Fighting and defense was part of what she spent her life training to do.
Smoke filled the bar. She lifted the glass to her lips and let the whiskey flow over her tongue. She needed that burn, that warmth. Everything about this job felt wrong to her. It wasn't that she didn't understand why but the fact that it went against every code, every rule that they followed felt wrong to her.
Ella looked up, eyes focusing on her reflection in the mirror behind the bar.
Behind her a bar band was doing a bad cover of 'Hot Blooded' by Foreigner. She had picked this place because she figured it would be easy to hide away. She didn't realize when she first pulled in that it would get so crowded. For all the roughness of the songs this band seemed to attract a crowd.
Or maybe there is just nothing else to do in this town.... The thought rolled through her mind as another drink of whiskey moved over her tongue.
She wasn't here to party or dance like the rest. She was just passing through. Ella had a job to do, even if she didn't agree with it. Mark was sick. Cursed more than sick and it was her job to find the one thing that would help them. Her problem was, as s hunter she was supposed to destroy such items, not recover them. That was their sole purpose. Find and destroy, take down those supernatural things and people tied to them.
Of course that is what got Mark cursed to begin with.
Then again he was sloppy so.... She let the treasonous thought pass. Mark was in charge. Even if he had let his guard down and go caught was it right for her to criticize the one who tasked with keeping them all organized?
Ella couldn't help but wonder if it had been one of the other hunters if they would have been so quick to find and salvage this thing or if the hunter would have been left to die so that they didn't go against their code? Part of her felt Mark and the council were more concerned about saving his hide than the code.
"Another?"
Ella looked from her reflection to the bartender. A glance down found her whiskey gone.
"Double this time, please." She slid her glass away. The man picked it up, giving her a smile.
"Careful now hun, some of the men here might try and take advantage if you get too tipsy." He looked her over.
"I'll be fine. Promise." Even at 5'5 Ella was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Fighting and defense was part of what she spent her life training to do.