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A year later
Like most Friday nights, Charlie’s is hopping.
Hailey’s running late, so I’m the only one behind the bar. A crowd of usuals line the counter, a good mix of both humans and supes. Charlie himself is a vampire, so we’re fang-friendly here even if most of the patrons are too busy tossing back their shots to notice that the next table over is drinking legit Bloody Mary’s.
“Gem?” One of my regulars raps his knuckles on the bar top. “Can I get another refill?”
“Coming right up, Vin.”
Vincent flashes his fangs at me. “And if you want to think about my offer, I’m going out on patrol in ten.”
I grab a cask of chilled O-negative—Vincent’s preferred type—and pour it into a blacked-out shot glass. Some vamps ask for a little whiskey or some rum added to their blood, but not when they’re on the Cadre’s payroll. The alcohol might give them a little buzz, but the vampires in charge of Muncie expect their patrollers to be one hundred percent sober.
Bringing the glass over to where he’s sitting, I tease, “Ten minutes? Is that all?”
He winks as he accepts his drink. “Believe me, baby, it’s long enough to make you think twice about your loyalty to Filan.”
Almost reflexively, I lift my hand and pat the slight bulge beneath my tight, black Charlie’s tee. I don’t have my necklace visible while I’m working for a couple of different reasons, but just mentioning Aleksander Filan has me double-checking that I haven’t lost it—again.
“Be careful that you don’t let him hear you badgering his girl,” Jimmy says, nudging Vincent in the side.
Jimmy Fiorello is as human as they come but, as he’s told me a hundred times since I started here last year, he was living in Muncie before the vampires moved into town, and he’ll be here long after they move along; considering he’s probably in his early sixties and vampires are essentially immortal, I don’t have the heart to tell him that he doesn’t have a prayer. So, like the rest of the supes who frequent Charlie’s, I let the old barhound dream. He’s harmless, he gets along well with my vamp customers, and he tips well.
Plus, he doesn’t flirt with me. That’s a win in my book.
If only he could convince Vincent St. James to give it up, too. The first time, I brushed him off. And the second. And the third. These days I just ignore him. If he hasn’t gotten the hint by now, he never will. There’s only so many ways I can say never gonna fuck you, my dude in customer service-ese.
Unfortunately, if there’s one thing I’ve learned living among vampires, it’s that their immortality means they’re really, really patient. He keeps trying because he has this idea that, one day, I’ll take him up on his offer of a quickie in the bathroom. My relationship with one of the most well-known vamps in Muncie has nothing to do with that. Sue a girl for having some standards.
I dodged the bullet of a piss poor mating once before. I haven’t seen Ryker Wolfson since the night I walked out of the Alpha’s cabin, and though it took me longer than it should’ve to bury our would-be bond, I eventually managed it. So what if I’m perennially single? At least I’m not trapped.
I’m a shifter. I need to be free.
Right now, though, I need to take care of the rest of my customers. As soon as Hailey comes in, Charlie told me I can head on out. This is my ninth night in a row and I’m looking forward to a relaxing evening where I get home before my roomie heads out on his nightly patrols.
Speaking of Aleksander—
With a sly look my way, Vincent sniffs, his fangs lengthening just enough that it might cause an unaware human to take a second peek. “I’m not afraid of him.”
Oh, really?
I pretend to spot someone on the other side of the bar. “Aleks, hey. Over here!”
Vincent spins on his stool so quickly, he nearly falls off.
My laugh comes out like a bark. Whoops. You can take the girl out of the pack, but you can’t take the wolf out of the girl. “My mistake. That’s not him.”
As Vincent rights himself, scowling as he tells Jimmy to stop with the laughing, I give the two friends a quick smirk before going to serve another customer.
Just another normal night at Charlie’s.
I learned early on that, as a female bartender, I have to toe the line between being friendly enough to earn tips and authoritative enough that my customers know not to push their luck. My first couple of weeks working the bar at Charlie’s, I lost track of how many of the guys tried to get me to go home with them at the end of the night, but it wasn’t long before they realized they weren’t getting anywhere with me. A little meaningless flirting was one thing, but no one’s really pushed it too far.
Amazingly, I did it all without relying on rank, pack status, or my wolf. Apart from my roommate, the Nightmare Trio, and Aleks’s boss Roman, no one else in Muncie knows for sure what I am. And I don’t mean being a female alpha ‘cause I’ve gone back to deciding to take that secret to my grave, but that I’m a shifter. As far as I know, I’m the only one in all of the vamp-controlled city. So showing off my claws? It wouldn’t work.
And, despite how grateful I am for Aleks’s help, I don’t like using him as an excuse, either. Unless I can get a laugh out of it like I just did with Vincent.
Now that’s one customer who deserves it.
