The Werewolves #8
Reluctantly, thinking only slightly more clearly, Knox and I follow the troll through another set of double doors, into the back of the building, which turns out to be a series of interconnected, stark white halls.
It's such a bright contrast to the rest of the club, but I barely notice.
My arms ripple between human skin and wolf's fur.
The change is close, my wolf demanding, battling with me to find her. Feral beast, patient hunter.
I try to tell him to calm down. If we are killed in a fight, or arrested and taken away, it will only pull us from her further.
He listens, barely. We follow the troll, Knox stomping behind me. The troll leads us past several doors until we reach an office at the end of the hall, the words customer relations embossed on the glass door.
A woman sits behind a desk. Her hair is tucked into a tight bun, a severe look on her face. She waves at the troll. "Leave us."
He harrumphs and lumbers past us, each step making the ground shake. He barely fits through the door, having to duck and shimmy sideways, and it rattles when he slams it shut.
"Well. This is unfortunate."
Knox snarls, but I step forward, forcing myself to maintain control while fighting off the primal urge to chase.
I pull the chair away from her desk and sit, then attempt to explain what happened, starting with the moment we realized who the girl below the deck is to us.
Twenty minutes later, after going back and forth, arguing with the woman, just wanting to learn my mate's name for fuck's sake, my three other pack mates join us.
While sympathetic to our predicament, the woman, Mara, refuses to share any information with us. For the employee's safety, she says.
We beg. We plead. We threaten.
She's unmoved.
And just when I think Teddy and Nico—typically the most easygoing of us five—are about to say fuck it and burn the place down in search of her, Mara finally offers a compromise.
"I can speak with her. I will tell her what's happened. And if she agrees—without pressure from you five—to see you, or to share her contact information, then I will oblige."
"You realize we can just return tomorrow and scent her, yes?" Knox scoffs from behind my chair.
Mara raises one eyebrow. "You think after the stunt you two just pulled I'm not well within my rights to ban you?"
There are other ways, I tell myself. But other ways are obstacles. And I'm not interested in more obstacles. So, while the guys argue around me, Mara keeps her eyes on me. I nod once. "Please. Tell her."
"Finally, one sensible wolf. Come with me."
She pushes away from her desk, and with the confidence of a woman who has been wrangling monsters like she was born for it, she walks straight past us all and back out the door.
We follow her through the long network of white halls, back through the double doors.
My heart races in anticipation as we step back into the club.
My dick twitches, but I ignore it. My mouth waters, but I swallow it down.
And as we walk past the tables, monsters glaring at us for breaking the rules, one orc bleeding, with a cloth tied around his neck—I'll apologize later—I can't help but home in on her scent. It's strong again. So strong, she must be close.
We stop at the bar. Mara turns abruptly. "You wait here." She snaps her fingers, and another troll guard waddles over. He crosses his arms and stands at the head of the employees-only entrance.
We wait. A minute. Five. Ten.
Finally, the door swings open. But I don't like the look on Mara's face. "I'm sorry. She went home for the night."
"What!" Nico and Teddy shout from behind me. West tries to hold them back. Knox has to help, and the look on Mara's face is unforgiving, especially when the troll has to step in to keep them from barging into the employee-only area.
Again, Mara speaks directly to me. "I will tell her what happened. You can leave your information with me. But you five have broken the sanctity of our safe space. Violence is not permitted, especially in pursuit of a human employee. You are not welcome back."
And just like that, we're banned.
My heart breaks. My wolf roars.
We will find her. We know where she works. We can just return and wait outside the doors. She will be back. She works here, after all.
West loses it, and with Teddy and Nico barely hanging on, I'm ashamed when I ask the troll for help to throw us out of the playhouse.
Knox and I are the last to step out of the club. The streets are busy. It's late, but that's witching hour. People are drunk and happy, having fun.
And we've just lost something vital.
Time.
We haven't lost everything, though. She exists. She's out there. And we may not be allowed at her place of work, but knowing where she'll return will have to be enough.
We take a few steps down the street toward our parked SUV. And that's when I spot them.
Panties.
Small, white, cotton, simple panties.
The guys scent her, but don't understand why. She's not anywhere nearby. I lean down and pick them up. Their eyes collectively light up when I pick up the pair and hold them close to my nose. Dry now, but at one point recently, they were soaked. They smell like apples and autumn and pussy.
My dick presses against my zipper. Knox rips them out of my hands.
I laugh into the night sky.
Fuck. Okay, mystery girl. Game on.
Lily
My teeth grind when the blaring alarm on my phone goes off, jarring me out of a fitful sleep.
My hand smacks out, and the phone slips off the end table, the beeping continuing out of reach, muffled by tossed pillows and blankets.
I want to scream, but that's just more noise on the pile.
Reaching over the side to silence it, I accidentally roll over and off the bed, landing with an oof.
Yeah, this all tracks.
I feel even worse than last night. There's a heavy ache in my bones, rattling from the inside out. Unsettling and churning.
It's just a job, I remind myself, not for the first time since I serviced those werewolves. They tipped me well. They tipped me insanely well, actually. Probably because they felt bad for me. I did such a terrible job they knew I wasn't getting any other business.
Last night before I left, I told Eli I needed to leave early and was taking today off. His answering wince was all I needed to know—I looked like shit. Misery was etched on my face, which was ridiculous.
It wasn't as if my fiancé left me for another woman. Again.
No, this time it was complete strangers.
It can't just be that, but I keep going over the night in my head, repeatedly, trying to figure out what I did wrong, or why I felt so attached and empowered with them, only to get crushed when they walked away. It's got to be more than just a potentially shitty blowjob that has me all tied up.
It's wondering whether I made the right decision in starting this job. Breaking out of my shell, trying something new. If beige walls and office planners really are better suited.
It's this gnawing uncertainty that I leapt too quickly—I reacted, and I never react.
I'm a planner. And planner's plan. What business did I have trying something so crazy as to perform sex acts in a monster's pleasure house?
Before last night, I was getting by okay. I was ready to take Eli up on his job offer, but I had to try the lower deck, just once. Anonymous oral sex, what could go wrong?
I refuse to believe that whatever happened in that little room last night is responsible for this strange knot of anguish tightening in my chest, but I really was okay before I went down there. A little sad. A little anxious.
But I was okay.
Now I don't know what to do.
At least my parents are away on a cruise, and I can afford to take today off from work to lick my wounds.
Besides, when I got home from work last night, I realized that not only had my soaked panties fallen out of my bag, but any of the monsters I work with, or regulars who I serve at the bar, could recognize my scent if they found them.
I'm already too mortified to face anyone today.
That was just the fucking cherry on top of my night.
I'll be okay tomorrow. Probably.
I just need to stop asking myself, why did they stop after two?
When I left the lower deck, Eli saw my face and just knew things hadn't gone well.
He assured me that, while it was unusual they left so abruptly, he was certain it wasn't me, or something I did.
I could see it in his face, though. He assumed I gave a terrible blowjob.
There was a bunch of other commotion that had him distracted, so he let me go without making me talk about it.
He was happy to hear I accepted his offer to work permanently behind the bar, though. So at least I have that going for me.
Was this another reason Danny left me? Did he think I was bad at it, too?
I let out a pathetic growl, drag myself off the pile of blankets on the floor, and into the shower in the tiny basement bathroom.
Afterwards, I get dressed and tie my wild hair in a bun and trudge up the stairs, emerging into my parent's quiet kitchen.
The cheerful yellow walls, a testament to my mother's relentless optimism, feel like a mocking salute to my mood. My life.
The tchotchkes on the shelves all seem to stare at me with the same beady eyes.
Little angel figurines and weird collectibles, reminding me of what's driving me to get out of this house.
My parents and their silly can-do, perpetually upbeat attitudes.
I never felt like I fit in here, not when I was young, and especially not now.