Lazarus Drake walked into the neutral bar, grinning broadly so his fangs shone under the florescent lights. He adjusted his jacket; underneath it, a rainbow was visible on his shirt.
He sat down at the counter, winking at the male bartender.
"Hey babe. I hear you make a mean cocktail here. I want the special and three shots of Vodka to get started--then maybe you and I can start something later." He licked his lips, waggling his eyebrows.
"I like your jeans. They look tight."
The uncomfortable bartender began mixing his drink, and he glanced around the bar; he froze when he saw her.
"What's a werewolf bitch doing indoors?!" he spat loudly. The bar went quiet.
He sat down at the counter, winking at the male bartender.
"Hey babe. I hear you make a mean cocktail here. I want the special and three shots of Vodka to get started--then maybe you and I can start something later." He licked his lips, waggling his eyebrows.
"I like your jeans. They look tight."
The uncomfortable bartender began mixing his drink, and he glanced around the bar; he froze when he saw her.
"What's a werewolf bitch doing indoors?!" he spat loudly. The bar went quiet.