Phoenix Hart swerved fluently through the crowed that had formed around the base of the stage at Lucky's. Her band had just finished a set, just like every Tuesday and Thursday night, and Phoenix was carrying her glass back to the bar to be refilled with the free drinks the band was promised whenever they played. Her average 5'5' frame made it easy for Phoenix to duck under and past the swaying bodies of people hopelessly trying to dance around her and within minutes she was on top of one the stoles surrounding the bar. "Hey Slim Jim," she yelled toward the bartender, a six foot seven giant that clearly weighed more than anything that could be considered "slim", "top me off?". He raised an eyebrow at her and grabbed her glass.
"Taking it easy tonight, Nix?" he said referring to the fact that she was only drinking diet soda instead of her usually Jack and Coke.
"One, I take it easy every night. A Jack and Coke barely has anything in it and I leave here with the ability to pass any sobriety test you're willing to administer." Phoenix said with a mock sense of hurt and humiliation, "and two, I have a calculus test tomorrow that I can't screw up."
Grabbing her glass with a flourish she could feel ol' Slim Jim rolling his eyes behind her. No one at Lucky's ever-questioned Phoenix's age and no one really cared enough to ask. Although she was a senior in high school and only about to turn eighteen in a month, she looked like she was twenty-two. Something about her confidence and beauty made the truth easy to shove under a rug. She was tall enough without towering over people and small enough to be considered petite when she found necessary. She had long, wavy blonde hair that landed about three quarters of the way down her back. She recently dyed the last three inches of her hair a teal that resembled the colors of a peacock. She had sharp blue-green eyes that if you looked too closely you would be left thinking that looks, could in fact, kill. But with her slight nose and pouty lips, you thought those looks sent you to heaven. She wasn't super-model thin, but she had the curves in the right places. Phoenix swayed with the music as she made her way to back door of the bar to grab a quick smoke before packing up the rest of the band equipment and heading home.
Lucky's was a whole in the wall located in Ollney ville Providence, Rhode Island shoved between a brick alley and a 24-hour dry-cleaners. Ollney ville is far from a nice neighborhood and as Phoenix opened the door she was met by the usually sounds a neighborhood that was more hood than neighbor. As she took a few steps further into the heart of the alley Phoenix grabbed her cigarette and lighter from the front pocket of her flannel. When she finally caught the flame she realized she wasn't alone in the alley. Not again, she thought.
"Hey there, Nixxy", said a slithering voice just behind her right shoulder. It was Oliver, of course it was Oliver. Oliver had recently become a regular at Lucky's Bar every Tuesday and Thursday night shortly after Phoenix's band got the gig. He kept a close eye on Phoenix and showed a particular interest, but her band mates were always there to cock block the poor fellow. The fact that he had decided to call her "Nixxy" made her cringe. No one ever called her that and why would they. It was a hideous rendition of her name and she much preferred simply Nix. "Great show…" he began to say with a lisp, but as soon as he moved his hand toward Phoenix's shoulder she was in full motion. With one fluid motion Phoenix side swept his legs out from under him and pushed his face toward the ground.
She had him pinned for barely a second when she heard, "Seriously Nix, again?", come from the door behind her. This clearly was not the first time someone had approached her in a dark alley or tried to make a move on her. Any incident of the sort played out much like this: the guy bruised or bleeding. Phoenix left no prisoners when it came to things like this. She knew she was pretty and she demanded to be respected. She hated being look at like an object or a toy to be won and no man was found innocent in such occurrence, even poor defenseless Oliver who was now hyperventilating on the ground. As Phoenix held him there she could have sworn she heard him sob a little in fear.
"He called me Nixxy" she said through barred teeth.
"Yes, and I still say you should come with a warning label. Something that says DO NOT TOUCH or CAUTION, or better yet HAZARD. I personally will pitch in for flashing lights and a siren", said Connor, Phoenix's band mate who was now coming down the steps into the alley, "now let the poor kid free before you disturb him physically, mentally, AND emotionally."
Connor had become one of Phoenix's best friends like all the members of the band. But Connor was more cautious and understanding with Phoenix. He knew she was hot headed and was one of the only people who could talk her down in times like these. He was also gay which allowed them to become closer while the rest of their band mates tried to hit on her when she first joined.
"Fine" Phoenix said with a sigh lifting herself up off the ground. Oliver slowly stumbled to his feet afraid that Phoenix would pounce again.
"Come on Nix, we still have to load the truck…", Connor began to say as the rest of the band began tumbling out the back door.
"Looks like crouching tiger's last victim got away unscratched. Lucky him." Nick, the bass player of their rag tag team said as Oliver scurried by him, "I swear Nix, you have to be like half feline or something. Its awesome!"
Phoenix only half smiled at the comment. It wasn't the first time the guys joked with her about being part superman, but Phoenix knew something they didn't: they were partly right. Phoenix may not be half feline, or half superman, but she was in fact half something. She was Nephilim, she was half angel.