Page 6 of Gargoyle Sentinel
“Danny-boy!” The bartender, Zack, called out as he entered. “The usual?”
“Make it a double.” Danny slid onto a barstool and shrugged off his jacket. “Been that kind of day.”
“Tourist lessons again?” Zack chuckled, already pouring vodka with a splash of cranberry.
“The worst. One woman kept shrieking with terror every time she moved an inch. I swear I've got permanent hearing damage.” He accepted the drink with a grateful smile, taking a generous sip. The alcohol burned pleasantly down his throat, dulling the edges of his fatigue.
The club was filling up, the usual mix of wealthy vacationers and the service industry locals who kept Aspen running. Danny scanned the room, noting a few familiar faces and several new ones. A tall, dark-haired man caught his eye from across the bar and raised his glass in greeting.
“Fresh meat at three o’clock,” Zack murmured, wiping down the counter. “Tourist, judging by the watch that probably costs more than my car. Also, two diamond rings. Definitely real.”
Danny snorted. “Damn, Mr. Cartier. You’ve got some laser vision there.”
Zack smirked. “Funny. He’s been up here twice already, and excuse me if I have a Master’s degree in luxury. I’ve been trained well working in the town.”
Danny laughed. “Fair enough. Well then, time to move in for the kill.”
Zack grinned. “That's the spirit. Use that charm offensive I know you've got.”
Danny downed the rest of his drink, then slid the empty glass toward Zack. “Another for courage, then I'm going in.”
Two drinks and forty minutes later, Danny was pressed against the wall near the dance floor, the dark-haired man—Simon, visiting from San Francisco—whispering something in his ear that was probably meant to be seductive but came off as desperate. He smiled anyway, nodding as if whatever Simon was saying was the most fascinating thing he’d ever heard.
“Want to get out of here?” Simon's breath was hot against his neck, smelling of expensive bourbon and mint.
Danny hesitated. Simon was attractive enough with his perfectly styled hair, jawline that could cut glass, and designer attire, but something felt off. That same tingling sensation from earlier crawled up his spine, stronger now. He glanced aroundthe crowded club, half-expecting to see someone staring daggers at him, but everyone seemed absorbed in their own revelry.
“Actually,” Danny said, gently placing a hand on Simon’s chest to create some space between them, “I think I need some air first. Want to join me outside for a minute?”
Simon’s perfect smile faltered slightly. “It's freezing out there.”
“Just for a minute.” Danny gave Simon his most captivating smile, already slipping away from the wall. “It’s so stuffy in here.”
The man sighed dramatically but followed him toward the exit. As they pushed through the crowd, Danny caught a glimpse of something odd—a shadow that seemed to move against the flow of the club’s lighting. He blinked, and it was gone.
Maybe he’d had more to drink than he thought.
Outside, the frigid air hit him like a slap, clearing some of the alcohol fog from his brain. Simon immediately wrapped an arm around Danny’s shoulders, pulling him close.
“Fuck. Better hurry with that air. I’m not dressed for an Arctic expedition.”
Simon’s teeth chattered, and he made a sound like a decrepit old car’s engine being started. Simon’s hotness factor had just dropped several notches.
Unease still clawed in Danny’s gut, and he realized there was no way he was going home alone. Irrational or not, he couldn’t escape the feeling of dread that had taken hold of him. Even though Simon’s appeal had diminished, he was taller and stronger than Danny was. At the moment, that was the exact quality he wanted in a man.
“What the…?”
Simon let go of Danny as he staggered backward, his gaze fixed on something behind Danny. His face contorted in a mixture of confusion and fear.
"Did you see that?" Simon pointed toward the alley next to the Silver Fox. “Something just moved in there. Something… Big.” He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, then took a step back. “I thought it was a weird dude, but…” Simon shook his head. “I don’t know what the fuck that was.”
Danny turned, squinting into the darkness. The alley was a narrow gap between the bar and an upscale boutique, barely visible in the dim glow of distant streetlights. For a moment, he saw nothing. Then a shadow shifted—blacker than the surrounding darkness, with an angular shape that seemed to unfold from itself.
“Probably just someone taking out the trash.” Danny laughed nervously, trying to convince himself more than Simon. But the prickling sensation along his spine intensified, as if tiny electric shocks were dancing up and down his vertebrae.
Simon took another step back, shaking his head more frantically. “I’m not into this weird shit. Look, I'm calling an Uber.” Simon pulled out his phone, his fingers trembling slightly as he swiped at the screen. “Whatever's going on with you, I don’t want any part of it.”
“Wait, what?” Danny reached for Simon’s arm, but the man jerked away. “There’s nothing going on with me. It’s probably only—"
