Alone at the Bar

“Seriously, mate?” Beth said. “I told you to buzz off.”

The drunk frat boy had forged his way through the crowd again, pushed up against her side by the packed bar. “Aw, c'mon. Don't be that way,” he said. “You barely got to know me!” He set down his drink and put his giant paw of a hand over hers. Beth jerked away.

There were at least a dozen ways she could resolve this situation. Unfortunately, most of them would get her arrested, cause collateral damage, or both. She rolled her eyes and tried an old gimmick. Looking over the guy's shoulder, she made her eyes brighten and she waved like someone she knew was coming over.

The guy was too drunk to notice. Great.

“Oh, you wanna dance?” he slurred. “I could get behind that. And you, too.” He punctuated that with a few pelvic thrusts. How charming. How did human women put up with this crap? You'd think they would have decimated the male population by now.

“You know what? Fine, lover boy,” she said. “Come over here.” She puckered her lips and leaned in. He gave her a sloppy grin and leaned forward. His eyes bolted to shock when her left hand came up, gripped like iron around his throat. He struggled and tried to shout, but she didn't let him.

“Lay off, mate,” she said, her eyes staring deep into his. She let a little of the illusion slip, increasing his panic as her pupils expanded to their natural slits. “Time to go home.” When she let go, he stumbled back against the person behind him, who shot a nasty look.

Beth glanced around. Didn't look like anyone had noticed. Good. Maybe she wouldn't get caught this time. She watched as the guy clutched his throat and shuffled out into the crowd.

It wasn't five minutes before a hand came down on her shoulder. Crap, that was fast. She's used barely a hint of the local pool. And in all these people?

“Hey, baby,” a voice said. “Wanna dance?”

Beth pondered how likely a castration charm was to be detected.