The World Between

Smoke filled the bar like a thick fog, obscuring all but the first scattered row of tables. The overhead lights tried to pierce the gloom and failed miserably. Every half-hour or so one of the lights would flicker, sputter like a dying man’s last gasping breath, then go out. A skinny boy with a dishwasher’s apron moved through the room, dragging a wooden ladder and two buckets with him as he swapped out the old bulbs for new ones. The new bulbs slowly faded, their light sucked in and swallowed by the smoke, leaving the bar in perpetual gloom. Large shapes moved in the smoke, their shadows all that could be seen.

Elijah Ember lifted his glass and signaled for another drink. The bartender gave him a short, weary look and then hefted a black glass decanter from behind the bar. A whiff of brimstone filled the air as the bartender uncorked the bottle. Steam curled from the opening, swirling around the bottle and up the old man’s arm as he filled Elijah’s glass with dark red liquid. The steam stayed close to the old man as he recorked the bottle and returned it to the shelf. He sighed, his shoulders slumping a fraction more as the smoke disappeared into his skin and he wandered off to fetch another drink.

“Strong stuff for a mortal.”

Elijah glanced at the man two stools over. The stranger smiled widely and nodded towards Elijah’s glass. He was perfect. Absolutely, not a hair out of place perfect. Crisp, clean clothing framed his body, likely tailored, and they did wonderful things to his form. He looked like he’d stepped off of an Abercrombie billboard and splashed through every gay man’s wet dream on his way to the bar. He looked too good to be in a crap bar like this, which meant he was likely dangerous as fuck and here for more than the alcohol selection.

A cigarette burned slowly between the man’s thick fingers, a thin trail of smoke curling from the red tip to swirl in strange shapes over the bar. The tip of the cigarette glowed unnaturally bright.

“I’m not mortal. Not entirely.” As subtle warnings go, it was one of his better. He raised the glass to his lips and took a long sip. The liquid burned as it ran over his tongue and down his throat, leaving faint warmth behind. It tasted like cherries and fire and copper and sin.