AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Compared to my five one, he seemed tal . But I could take him out without blinking an eye. One of the perks of being a vampire: exceptional strength that belied any lack of visible force. Motioning him to a chair, I hopped up to sit on the corner of my desk.
“Derrick. Derrick Means.” He took the chair and leaned back, eyeing me closely. “You look like a vamp,” he said.
I blinked. Nobody had ever said that to my face, but what the hel . He didn’t sound like he was insulting me.
“Good. Because that’s what I am, and anybody that works for me has to not only tolerate it, but actual y accept the fact. What about you?”
He arched an eyebrow and folded his arms. “I’m one of the Badger People. I’m a friend of Katrina’s. She said you might be open to me applying for the job, even though you’re a vamp.
Said you hired a werewolf before.”
Badger People? So they’d moved into the city now, too?
But I understood why he might be wary. Weres and vamps didn’t always get along. However, I wasn’t just any vamp—I was half-Fae as wel as half-human. And Katrina was a friend. She was a werewolf who had started to fal for my former bartender before he ended up having to leave Earthside for Otherworld to protect his sister.
I frowned. I’d never met anyone from the badger tribes before and had very little clue what they were like, in general. Though if he matched his namesake creature, Derrick wouldn’t have any hesitation about tossing problem people out on their asses.
“Tel me about your past experience. And are you part of a clan or a loner?”
“Used to be in a clan, until I decided to hit the city and see what life here is al about. I like Seattle, but there’s not much chance to interact with my family since I moved here. We keep in touch via e-mail, but I don’t get to see them much.” He let out a long sigh that sounded suspiciously like a huff and relaxed back into the chair.
“And your experience?”
“I’ve got fifteen years bartending under my belt, I double as a bouncer no problem, and I’ve never been fired.” He handed me a piece of paper. To my surprise, it was a résumé. A detailed résumé. Usual y people just came in and asked for a job. Or at best, an application.
“Why do you want to work at the Wayfarer?” I glanced over his CV. Everything seemed in order.
No immediate alarm bel s going off in my gut.
“Because I need a job. You need a bartender. And I figure you won’t get in my face about taking off the nights of the ful moon.” He leaned forward. “I’m good at what I do, I’m loyal, and I’l be here, sober, whenever you cal . I don’t hit on the women—at least not on duty. If you want to cal some of my references, the numbers are there.”
I stared at the list. Applegate’s Bar, Wyson’s Pub, the Okinofo Lounge . . . not upscale bars but not seedy dives, either. They were solid taverns with good clientele. I let out a long breath and glanced up at him. “Wait out front in one of the booths.”
After he nodded and swaggered out of the office, I put in a few cal s. Nobody had anything bad to say about him, and several of the bars praised him, though I could feel a definite tension there.
But that was easy: I chalked it up to FBHs dealing with Supes. Making my decision, I headed out front.
Derrick was nursing a Diet Coke.
I slid into the seat across from him. “You drink? Do drugs?”
He shook his head. “Drink beer and Scotch occasional y, but never on duty. Drugs and Badger People aren’t a good mix. We have a temper, I am the first to admit it. I know my limits.”
“Okay, here’s the deal.” I motioned at the bar. “I need somebody and I need him now. So if you can start this week, preferably tonight, so much the better. Your shift wil be four P.M. until two A.M., but you may need to come in to help with inventory at times during the day. You’l need to be on cal —there are nights when I have to be gone, and I can’t always predict when that’s going to be. So far so good?”
He nodded. “I like to work. I don’t mind picking up extra shifts. I send what I don’t need home to help my mother raise my brothers and sisters.”
That made me feel even better about hiring him. “Good man. I can pay you fifteen dol ars an hour to start. If you’re as experienced as you seem to be, and you last ninety days, I’l raise that to seventeen. The main thing you need to remember: I’m the boss, you do what I say while you’re here, and you keep your nose clean. What do you think? Want the job or not?”
He raised his glass in salute. “Here’s looking at you, boss.”
At least one of my problems was solved. But it didn’t take long for another to rear its head. As I was showing Derrick around the bar, watching how he handled the bottles and—suitably impressed—how he handled customers, the door opened and Chase Johnson swaggered in.
My sister Delilah’s ex-lover, a cop who was as good as family by now, Chase dressed in Armani and smel ed like a perpetual taco stand. He was also one damned fine detective.
After al the arguments we’d been through, I had to give him props. He’d managed to keep it together in situations that would drive the average FBH wacko. Oh yeah. One other little tidbit: Chase also was as good as immortal, at least in human terms. He’d been given the Nectar of Life in order to save his life, and that put him a long leg up on the rest of FBHs.
He glanced at Derrick and nodded, giving me a quizzical look.
