Astór 1
Astór
Glenn knew his clan and knew them well. They were, at heart, all very good people.
Yes, they found trouble on a near daily basis.
Yes, they might be prone to exaggeration from time to time.
And yes, some of them had a flimsy grasp on how the modern world worked.
But still—good people at heart.
He reminded himself of that. Often. Because there was many a day he would cheerfully strangle them all for the aggravation they caused.
Hence why he currently sat at his desk, both hands cradling his head as if he suffered from a severe hangover. Which, to be honest, it felt like he had. Only without the fun prelude of drinking himself stupid.
Actually, drinking himself stupid sounded like an excellent idea. Maybe he should unearth that bottle of aged Scotch.
Annabella sailed into the room, then paused. He could hear her high heels on the floor, the way she hesitated before continuing into the room. “Glenn? What’s happened?”
“Sayori,” he answered.
“Oh god, now what did she do?”
“She mixed up her IDs, took the one that expired eight years ago—the one for her deceased persona, no less—and then sped through town. Got pulled over, gave the cop the wrong ID, and ended up calling me in a panic because in her frantic state, she charmed him too hard and left him in a drooling puddle at the side of the road.”
“Oh god,” Annabella repeated. Nuance was an amazing thing. The first had been an exclamation. The second a prayer of despair. “Were you able to reverse it?”
“Fortunately. With Keane’s help.” He lifted his face and stared ahead blindly. “I was supposed to be in two meetings today. I had to cancel both to fix this mess. Our deadlines are pushed back, again.”
“Glenn, I’ve said this multiple times, but I’ll say it again. We need a new clan Function.”
He groaned. Mostly in agreement, but partially in frustration. “I’d love one. But I can’t exactly advertise for the position.”
“Here’s the thing. I know of a good possibility.”
Glenn’s head snapped around. “You do? Where?”
She rested a hip on his desk as she answered.
“Aunt May’s, the little gas station everyone likes to hit up at night?
There’s an employee there by the name of Ross.
He’s…exceptionally hard to scare, possibly the most deadpan man I’ve ever met, and handles all of us like we’re regular customers.
I’ve seen him with werewolves, goblins, hungover vampires, and he doesn’t bat an eye. ”
Dunham’s head popped around the doorframe. “Ah, there himself be. Annabella, I overheard that, ye tellin’ him about the lad?”
“I am.” Annabella turned enough to gesture him inside. “Back me up on this.”
“I came to make the same recommendation, so will be glad to.” Dunham came properly in to stand next to the desk, forcing Glenn to crane his neck back.
“Yon lad be right steady and trustworthy. He’s been workin’ the counter at the gas station for months now, does na’ breathe a word at all, at all about us.
Just takes our money and manages the store. Steady one, he be.”
“Nerves of steel,” Annabella agreed with a firm nod. “And I’ve tried to surprise him a time or two. He doesn’t even jump. I really think he’d be amazing as a Function. He’s got the right personality for it.”
Oh. Oh, that sounded like a very good possibility indeed. “Ross, you said. He works night shift or swing?”
“Night shift. He’s always there at night, and I’ve stopped by three times.”
“Perfect. I’ll go and check him out.”
Annabella leaned in a little, a smirk on her face. “Just for your information, he’s both gay and handsome, too.”
Glenn rolled his eyes at her. “Thank you, but I need a Function before I need another lover. Out with you, shoo. I want to go see this man for myself.”
“Alright. Do let me know your thoughts on him.”
Dunham followed along behind. “I can go with ye, make the introduction?”
“Not this time. I want to sound him out myself.”
“Alright, then.”
Glenn left the room, grabbing up keys and wallet as he headed for his car.
He was too antsy to sit still, and if this man really had good potential, he wanted to know sooner rather than later.
At this rate, not having a Function might drive him up the wall.
He really needed to find someone else if this young man didn’t have the right skills for the job.
Besides, he needed gas anyway.
So he took himself off to the gas station, for both gasoline and a ‘chance’ encounter with the man his clan favored.
Upon arriving at the station, the pump refused to react properly, giving him a different excuse to enter than he’d planned, but no matter.
Glenn walked towards the quaint building, and as he did so, his nose caught the hint of a werewolf.
One in full fur, it seemed, as Glenn could see him through the glass.
He could also see an employee in uniform, with the name Ross displayed on a tag.
Really? Werewolves felt comfortable enough entering here in their other form? Well, well, well. Perhaps Annabella and Dunham were correct after all. This one had spirit if he could calmly accept the supernatural world.
And Glenn was quite curious how this Ross would handle having both vampire and werewolf inside at the same time. It probably wasn’t nice to test him like this, without even properly meeting him first, but Glenn never claimed to be a nice person.
He drew open the door, fully prepared to defend himself if need be, but mostly focused on the young man fetching a—was he seriously fetching a hot dog for a werewolf?
Glenn had to blink a few times to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. They didn’t appear to be.
As expected, the wolf spun about sharply, hackles raised as he growled out a warning.
Glenn faced him down with an amused quirk of the brow.
Silly pup. He could tell this one didn’t have much age on him, and Glenn was far faster and stronger than a pup barely weaned. It wouldn’t be much of a competition.
The man in the gold-and-black gas station uniform dodged sharply around the wolf. Glenn almost interceded on instinct—getting between a werewolf and vampire was never wise—but he checked the impulse. No. No, wait, see what he would do.
With a sharp smack against the werewolf’s nose, Ross forced the wolf into a retreat. “Feliks, quit it.”
The werewolf jerked back in reflex, then sneezed violently, shaking his head.
“Stop,” Ross commanded firmly. “You know the rules. No fighting inside the store. You want to fight, you take it outside.”
“But—” Feliks sounded like a five-year-old denied a treat.
“No.”
“You don’t know who he is!” Feliks protested.
“He’s my customer. He’s inside my store. No fighting.” It was clear Ross would not take no for an answer.
And despite the fact the werewolf could rip him limb from limb without even breaking a sweat, it was the wolf who backed down.
Glenn could only admire the confidence of this man, so wholly human, and be amused by it as well.
He’d not seen a human act like this in centuries.
What gave him this confidence? Not everyone possessed the ability to look a dangerous creature in the eye and submit it to his will—and to do so without exploiting it in some fashion, no less.
It sparked excitement in his chest to see it.
Because that ability right there, that was exactly the skill a Function needed.
Glenn felt like sending up a prayer of thanks in finally finding someone who could give him the help he needed.
Never had Glenn been so glad that he took another’s advice. He owed Annabella and Dunham a serious favor for the recommendation.
Not to mention Ross was handsome. Annabella hadn’t been exaggerating there.
Even the horrid gas station uniform couldn’t hide that.
He was toned, just muscular enough to be defined, his amber skin washed out a little under the lights.
Oh, but his eyes. Apple green, and so penetrating, as if he could read every thought.
Perhaps he could—it would explain how well he handled the wolf.
A thread of lust wound its way through him, unexpected to say the least. Glenn hadn’t seen a man who caught his interest so immediately like this in many, many years.
But there was something about Ross, something that made his hands twitch with the urge to touch.
The hot dog was handed over to the wolf, and meekly taken and consumed without further argument. Feliks didn’t stay, though. He drank up the bowl of water, mumbled a good night, then slunk back out.
The attendant breathed out a sigh of relief, fetched the bowl, and put it off to the side to clean later. Glenn watched him go, this human named Ross. An unassuming enough name, though he had a feeling the man himself would prove to be anything but.
Glenn approached the counter as Ross resumed his place behind it. “That was impressive. I’ve never seen a human wrangle a werewolf before. You do that often?”
“It’s called customer service,” Ross deadpanned. “Are you looking for something, sir?”
“Gas. The pump outside wouldn’t take my card, for some reason.”
“Pump 3?” Ross checked. “Yeah, that one’s glitchy for some reason. Our tech guy is due tomorrow to fix it. I can run it from here. How much do you want?”
“Twenty dollars should suffice.” He handed over his credit card, still trying to determine the nature of the man in front of him.
Annabella and Dunham had both sworn he was human, and only human, but—surely not.
Witch? Wizard? Something else, perhaps? Something had to give Ross the confidence Glenn had seen on display, surely.
He inhaled deeply, frown deepening. “I don’t detect anything from your blood. You’re wholly human?”
Ross didn’t look surprised by the inquiry. Which did beg the question of how often he was asked. Glenn was a little worried about that. Who else had picked up on this man? “Nothing supernatural or magical about me. Sign here, please.”
Glenn wasn’t sure what to do with that answer, either. Wholly human? And yet he could respond like this? He took the receipt and signed it on autopilot. The man in front of him was far more interesting. “And yet you are unfazed by the supernaturals you encounter?”
“The ones who come in here to shop aren’t the type to cause trouble,” Ross answered simply. “They’re reasonable. And I’ve never seen anyone supernatural outside of here.”
“I’d lay good odds you have. You just didn’t recognize them as such.”
Ross considered that for a second. “Could be.”
This one had nerves of steel, apparently. Glenn smiled at the thought. Oh yes, he truly did like the look of this one. He offered a slight bow, now willing to introduce himself and perhaps put them on a more friendly footing. “I am Glenn. May I have your name?”
“Call me Ross. Everyone does.” He smiled, but there was a guardedness to the expression, his posture ever so slightly defensive.
Glenn smiled charmingly, his manner more of old-world etiquette.
He’d hoped for a last name, but…ah well.
It might be best to take this in stages.
Glenn had a very good first impression, but he didn’t want to leap to conclusions or come on too strongly.
So he took the gambit and accepted it, not offering a challenge in return.
“A pleasure, Ross. I think we’ll see each other again. ”
Ross said with a professional smile of his own, “Have a good night.”
Glenn left, returning to the pump to fill his car with gas. As he did, he dared a glance or three inside through the wide-paned windows. Ross was going about cleaning up as if he’d not had a vampire and werewolf in his store a bare minute earlier. Such unflappable calm.
He couldn’t help but think how nice it would have been, over the past month especially, to have someone on hand like Ross.
Someone who could mediate and handle things calmly.
It had been so long since Glenn had experienced a calm member in his clan, he’d almost entirely forgotten what it was like.
This afternoon, for instance, when things had gone to shit without any warning?
Functions handled situations like that all the time, freeing Glenn to do his work and not have to worry about someone getting into trouble.
And having one level-headed person to talk through things was a blessing in and of itself.
And having someone as handsome as Ross on hand to enjoy, well…it was certainly a perk. Not that Glenn would push that agenda overmuch. He needed a Function more than he needed a lover. Ross was lovely, certainly, but it was his deadpan common sense Glenn truly admired.
He’d need to play this out a bit more, it seemed. Ross was not one to easily rise to the bait. As Glenn slid back into the driver’s seat, he mused on the possibility.
The next time they crossed paths, what should his gambit be?