Across the room, standing at the far pool table with a cue in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other, was Azrael. Hewas already looking at me when our eyes met, and for one very satisfying second he went completely still.
I turned back to my drink but Debbie had seen the whole thing. She said nothing, which from Debbie was practically deafening.
His name wasEthan and he was a local contractor with an easy smile and the kind of uncomplicated friendliness that small towns seemed to produce naturally. He appeared at my elbow while May was at the bar and Debbie was telling someone a story that required both hands to properly illustrate.
"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked.
I smiled. "You can buy me fries."
He laughed, which was a good sign. "I can absolutely do fries."
From somewhere across the room came a sound like wood snapping under significant pressure.
I didn’t look over but I heard Debbie, however, make a quiet sound that I could only describe as gleeful.
Ethan was really good company. He was funny in a straightforward way and asked questions and actually listened to the answers. The man had a story about a bathroom renovation gone wrong that made me laugh hard enough to spill a little of my drink. I was genuinely enjoying myself.
I was also aware, of exactly where Azrael was standing at all times.
And he was missing nearly all the shots he’d taken this evening. Azrael, who had sunk every ball at that table on Thursday with the precision of someone for whom pool was less a game and more a minor administrative task, was missingshots. He was also, when he thought I wasn't looking, glaring at Ethan with an expression that I suspected had caused actual problems for people.
Debbie appeared at my shoulder. "Uh oh."
"Don't," I said.
"You've got two Alphas."
"I absolutely do not."
"Oh, honey." She looked across the room with the serene confidence of someone who had been reading these situations for thirty years. "You definitely do."
I drank my beer and said nothing.
Ethan asked me to play a round of pool and I said yes, because I was a grown woman who could make her own decisions. And also because I had actually been getting better since that Thursday and I wanted to prove it to someone who wasn't Azrael. I lined up my first shot and Ethan stepped up behind me to help adjust my angle, in a perfectly friendly, perfectly innocent way. I was just about to take the shot when another voice came from directly behind us, low and completely unhurried.
"Wrong angle…”
I closed my eyes because I had to be dreaming.
Azrael stepped up beside me, looked at Ethan's hand position on the cue, and adjusted it himself with the calm authority of someone who had decided the situation required his involvement and had not consulted anyone about that decision.
Ethan smiled with the patience of a man who had dealt with small towns long enough to recognize a complicated situation when he was standing in one. "I think she can decide."
"I actually think so too," I said, looking directly at Azrael.
He looked at the table. "Hit the seven."
Rolling my eyes, I hit the seven and it dropped perfectly. I handed the pool stick to Ethan and walked away.
The air outside was cool and sharp after the warmth of the bar. I had been standing on the sidewalk for approximately thirty seconds when I heard the door open behind me.
"You embarrassed me," I said, without turning around.
"I corrected his angle,” Azrael’s voice sounded annoyed.
I took a breath. “You’re jealous."
His tone remained gruff. “No."
