Chapter Seven
Dante
My dragon had a talk with me. Not a wordy lecture because he never was a winged creature of few words, but enough to let me know he thought I was a fool for not recognizing the mate scent at the club that day.
For some reason, he hadn’t surfaced to mention it while we were there, when maybe I could have looked around and found the source.
But I told myself that if the person who left the scent had been at Animals once, probably a day or two before my walk-through with Karma, he would probably be back.
He’d better be, or I didn’t know what I’d do.
And as much as I wanted to connect with him, I hoped it wouldn’t be on the night of the fundraiser.
The event was too important to my career and thus to the living I would want to earn for my mate and me when we did connect.
If I messed this up because I was distracted, I’d be trying to provide a home for my mate and me on a fast-food hourly wage.
Some people managed it, but I sure didn’t want to try.
As I pulled up in the employee parking lot, it was very hard not to be distracted. If I’d stayed in the den, I’d have had access to the hoard, both the community one and the individual hoard my parents started for me before I was born.
It told how serious the offense of leaving was in the eyes of the leadership that they stripped me of my own hoard. I wasn’t sure it was even legal, according to the ancient commandments, but it was how they ran things.
Why had Fate sent my mate to me before I was fully prepared to take care of him?
I’d just gotten my business off the ground, my home was a fixer-upper I’d only managed to buy because it needed so much work, and was not a dream alpha for most omegas.
No dragon would approach their mate without so much more than I had to offer.
The club kitchen was abuzz with the caterer’s employees creating beautiful appetizers and desserts like a layered cheesecake and raspberry trifle and chocolate fudge layer cake in a cup.
I had backed off on the rental silverware when Karma said it was very likely that at least some of it would end up in the trash.
She’d hooked me up with a company that made bamboo forks and spoons with animals carved into the handle.
Absolutely adorable and reusable if we did manage to keep them out of the trash.
But if some got lost or carried away by people who thought their kids would get a kick out of them, no biggie.
The charcuterie boards had been delivered and were in the walk-in, still covered with plastic film and ready to be set out. We were down to the wire. The front doors would open soon, and the breads and cookies prepared by our replacement baker were all piled up and also ready to go.
It was go time, what we’d all been working for.
I wished I’d been able to bring Andi, but she was handling another, smaller event—her first on her own.
I had a lot of faith in her. Tons. But she needed to be able to reach me if anything came up.
And I wanted to find a moment to check in with her a few times under any circumstances.
With that in mind, I set reminders for every couple of hours.
I moved out into the main club floor where the event would be held and checked out the tables.
They were covered with matching linens, including the items for the silent auction.
I wasn’t running it, but I had agreed to order the tablecloths so they would coordinate with the rest. Snow-white cloths embossed with cream animals.
Wildlife of all kinds, each one representing another region.
Mountains, desert, ocean… Elegant but cute.
The napkins were the reverse, and the wooden utensils added to the effect.
From the kitchen came a parade of servers led by the caterer and carrying trays of savory and sweet foods.
I watched for a while, until I could see everything going as it should.
The centerpieces were stunning desert flowers.
The charity we were fundraising for was a wildlife rescue run by a small local organization.
They’d been receiving annual grants that had been cut off without explanation for the next year and didn’t know what to do.
Animals had stepped in to try to make up the difference between the individual donations the rescue received and the lost grants.
If the line to get into the parking lot offered any indication, they were going to be okay, but I wasn’t an expert on such things, so it was only my best guess.
The plan was to let people at the food and the bar, where they could buy drinks named after various cute animals, as soon as they entered, so by the time the speeches and auction began, the guests would be full and happy.
Karma said with shifters and other paranormals, that was the best way to raise the most money.
Again, I had no expertise on that aspect of the evening, but I knew Karma did.
From the moment I entered the building, that scent had been floating around me.
The one my dragon insisted was our mate.
The one I was pretty sure he was right about.
It made it hard to concentrate when all my dragon wanted was to track down the source.
With the doors still closed, it should have been easy, but there were far more staff than I’d have expected.
In addition to those I’d contracted, a whole lot of Animal employees and their mates were already in the room.
I’d been told many of them lived in the apartments carved into the cliffs behind the club. What must that be like?
An easy commute for sure.
I tried to circle the room and look for the person with the incredible scent, but then the doors opened and the room filled with people. Shifters, vampires, witches, fairies, even a few humans. I couldn’t do anything except my job.
Things moved fast, food no sooner on the table than the trays were stripped bare and replaced. The charcuterie was very popular, the appetizers as well, and the breads and cookies by our new baker the subject of every conversation I passed.
And no sign of the source of the scent. No source of my mate!
“Dante, it’s all going well.” Karma had arrived at my side and held out one of the drinks. I couldn’t remember what it was called. “Drink this.”
I tipped it back and choked. “What is in that?”
She giggled. “I have no idea, but it’s good. I’ve had a couple of them. So, with everything going perfectly, why so down at the mouth?”
“I-I,” was saved by the call for me to go up and take the microphone. “Let’s talk later, okay?”