2

It was another busy night, and I was helping tend the bar because our normal two bartenders were having trouble keeping up. It was good for me, though. It kept me knowledgeable about cocktails and wine. It was difficult owning a bar without being in the know.

I was handing a couple of college kids some beers when Abi nudged me and nodded toward the door. “We got a crew of shifters coming in.”

I glanced up and saw the guys she was talking about. You could always tell the shifters from the humans. There was…something about them. I couldn’t even describe it, but it was obvious. I wasn’t a bigot like some people. I’d never had any trouble from shifters and they were welcome at my place. All they wanted was some good bar food and good booze—both of which I could provide.

I nodded. “Yep, I see them,” I said.

The guys, about a half dozen of them, made their way across the bar to an open table near the jukebox. One of them glanced in my direction and made eye contact. I forced myself not to roll my eyes. His face changed when he saw me, and then he changed course to come to the bar. I couldn’t even count the number of times I’d been hit on in the years I’d owned the place. I was well-acquainted with the look he was giving me.

He bellied up and nodded to me. “Hey. Can I get a beer?”

At least he hadn’t led with a pick-up line. I nodded. “Sure, what kind?”

He shrugged and gave an easy smile. “Whatever you recommend. You’re the professional.”

“Fair enough,” I said, turning back to the line of beer taps. I’d made sure to have a cool and eclectic selection of beers when I opened the bar. I had almost two dozen options. I went right for my favorite: a micro-brew made by a couple friends of mine a few towns over. It had hints of orange and wasn’t too hoppy. I slid the glass across the bar to him but held it back just out of reach. “I’ll need to have your ID.”

He grinned. “Yeah, sorry.” He pulled it out and slid the license toward me. I checked the birth date, even though the guy was obviously over twenty-one, and slid the ID back. I pushed the beer the last foot over to him.

He caught it and took a sip. He furrowed his brows and looked at the glass. “That’s really good. Nice choice.”

I had a hard time not succumbing to his charm. He was cute and had a great smile, but I knew how these things usually went. I only nodded and took a couple of orders from some people beside him. Once I was free again, he waved me back over.

“Another round?” I asked.

He shook his head. “How long have you lived here?”

“Sorry, big guy, no personal info. I can do alcohol and maybe some hot wings from the kitchen if you want to ask for some of that.”

He looked back across the room to his friends, who were all watching us. Most had their eyes on me. I wondered if he’d made a bet with his buddies on whether he’d be able to get my number. Turning back, he nodded at his glass. “Okay, house rules. I get it. I’ll take another.”

I filled another glass for him, and he went back to the table with his friends. I glanced over and they all seemed to be in deep discussion. Some of them looked pissed. I figured they were having a guys’ quarrel. As long as it didn’t escalate into shouting and fists, they were free to do as they pleased.

The same guy came back a few more times throughout the night. Each time was pure business. A pitcher of beers for his guys, then a big order of fried chicken sliders from the kitchen. Normal stuff, except that he only wanted to deal with me. He’d wait an extra ten minutes if I was busy. He completely ignored Abi, who tried to get his order and was being pretty obvious that she’d like to do more than just pour him a beer.

Toward the end of the night, he came up to settle his tab. I took his card, and while I was ringing him up, the question I’d been waiting for all night finally came up. “Okay, I’ll finally stop bugging you if you just give me your name.” He held up a finger. “And before you say it, a name isn’t personal information. It’s not private or secret. You can at least give me your name.”

I chuckled and rolled my eyes. “Okay, fine.” I put my hand out to shake. “Maddison Sutton. My friends call me Maddy.”

He shook my hand and smiled that gorgeous smile again. “Good to know.”

He turned without another word and started walking toward his friends, who were gathering at the door.

“Hey, don’t I get your name?” I shouted after him.

He looked over his shoulder as he headed out the door. “Next time.”

I watched the group go, thinking it was the strangest interaction I’d ever had. Usually, when you brushed off a guy, one of two things happened. One, they got butt-hurt about it and turned into pouty little incel shits. Two, they didn’t take no for an answer and kept pushing until I had to be a bitch about it.

This was a refreshing change of pace. Maybe, just maybe, if he came back again, I’d entertain the idea of giving him my number. If he asked for it.

The bar slowly started to empty, and I didn’t even have to make the last call. The final patrons were out before two. The bartenders got most of the place clean, and they and the kitchen guys were out by three, which left just Abi and me. I needed to mop the bathrooms and restock the paper towels, soap, and toilet paper—a twenty-minute job at best.

“Hey, Abi? Go on home. I’ve got this.”

Abi yawned and rubbed her eyes. “You sure? I’m good to stay and help.”

“It’s all good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Oh my God, thanks. I’m so damned tired. I’ll call you in the afternoon for breakfast.”

“You mean lunch?”

Abi shrugged a shoulder as she walked out. “Call it what you want. Whatever I eat after I roll out of bed is breakfast. Even if it’s two in the afternoon.”

I laughed and waved as she left. The rest of the closing stuff went by pretty quickly. It was kind of nice to have the place to myself and allow myself to zone out and decompress. All that was left to do was empty the under-bar beer glass cleaner. I’d worry about polishing the water spots off the next day.

While I was bent over taking the glasses out, I heard the front door of the bar open. Shit, I hadn’t locked it after Abi left.

“We’re closed!” I called out, still pulling glasses out.

I could hear a multitude of boots thumping across the wood floor of the bar. I hissed a frustrated breath out through my teeth. Standing, I shouted, “I said we’re…”

I trailed off when I saw who’d come in. It was the guy from earlier in the night. The shifter. And he’d brought all his friends back. A knot of fear cinched tightly in my gut when I saw their faces. All of them, including the guy who I’d thought had been flirting with me, looked pissed. Like, ready-to-kill pissed. The worst part was the fact that they were all looking at me. Like I’d made them mad.

Trying not to let my fear show, I cleared my throat. “Sorry, guys. We closed over an hour ago. If you want service, you’ll have to come back tomorrow night.”

Ignoring me, the guy I’d been talking to stepped up to the bar and slammed his palms down on it. The impact reverberated through the bar like a gunshot. “You shouldn’t even exist.”

I took an involuntary step back, shocked by the disgust in his voice. He was looking at me like I was a smear of dog shit he’d found on his shoe. What the hell had happened in the last two hours? The jovial, charming grin was gone. All I saw now was the curled lip of loathing.

He looked back at his boys. “Smell that? Was I lying?”

The rest of his friends shook their heads, one of them sniffing at the air and making a deep, throaty growl. Cold sweat slid down my back, my eyes darting around at all the other men. None of their faces showed the slightest hint of compassion. Some had even moved to the ends of the bar, cutting off any escape I might have had. My breath started to hiss in and out my nose in panicked bursts. What was about to happen to me? Robbery? Murder? Gang rape followed by robbery and murder? A thousand nightmare scenarios flashed through my mind.

The shifter leaned forward, getting as close as the bar would allow. “Your bloodline should have been completely wiped out. The whole lineage was supposed to be dead. It looks like some of that tainted blood slipped through the cracks.”

I bumped into the shelf of liquor behind me. A bottle of tequila and a pint of whisky fell off the shelf, shattering onto the floor. The pungent aroma of alcohol burned my nose. What the hell was he talking about?

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said, my voice uncharacteristically low and quiet.

He shook his head and spat on the ground. “Doesn’t matter. You’ll be dead soon enough. Go.”