Chapter 13 #2
A crooked smile appeared, and Calvin shook his head. “I meant your tail and ears. You went through your first change, didn’t you?”
Her cheeks bloomed red when his voice carried across the bar.
“You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about, girl.
You’re the future, and people are always scared of the future.
” He steered his attention to the spectators.
“If any asshole even thinks about touching her tail or ears, I’ll hang your balls by the dartboards for a new target.
I don’t deliver empty threats, so feel free to test me.
Now get back to your games and food and quit staring at a little girl like a bunch of perverts. ”
That was enough to color everyone’s cheeks for staring and send them back to their tables.
Except for Hamish, who casually pulled a drag from his cigarette while giving Tak a death stare. Then he faced Deacon and spoke quietly to his group.
Calvin leaned down. “If anyone ever gives you trouble, let me know, honey. Hot damn. This calls for a celebration. You want a beer?”
Her eyes widened.
Calvin rocked with laughter. “Just messin’ with ya. I’ll get you a tall ginger ale.” He gestured to the camera. “Cool camera. Don’t take my picture.” He headed back to the bar, where Mercy was busily cleaning glasses.
Krys hooked his arms over the back of his chair. “I was hoping to kick a little ass.”
“The night is young,” I offered, which made him laugh.
After a few minutes, Mercy joined our table on her break. She asked Cleo if she wanted any fries, but Cleo’s attention was locked on Marvin, who was playing pool with his buddies.
Marvin was the guy she’d attacked for mocking Archer’s disability. I wondered why she was so fixated on him. Maybe she anticipated he would ridicule her the way he had Archer.
Mercy noticed her staring. “Cleo, never let anyone live rent-free in your head. You’ll meet a lot of a-holes in life. For some people, the only way they know how to lift themselves up is by tearing others down. If someone can’t talk to you like a decent person, they’re not worth thinking about.”
Cleo set her camera on the table. “So you think I should talk to him?”
“Uh, that’s up to you. But don’t let ol’ Marvin get under your skin. If you want to keep the upper hand, never let anyone see how much they’ve pissed you off.”
“What do I do?” Cleo asked.
This was a teaching moment. Shifter behavior—especially among predators—often had to be taught. Wolves could smell weakness. Now that Cleo had gone through her first change, she needed to own her space and learn how to stand up for herself.
Mercy patted Cleo’s hand. “Hold your chin up high, but don’t give him any emotion. Look him in the eye to acknowledge his existence. After that, look away. He’s not worth your attention.”
Krys nudged her. “Give him the finger.”
“Don’t tell her that!” Mercy snapped.
As if we were all sharing the same thought, everyone at the table looked across the bar and gave Marvin the finger.
Including Darcy.
Krys kept an eye on Cleo for the next hour. Although her first introduction to the community had been uneventful, he couldn’t shake the fear that one of the idiots in the bar might crack a joke.
At one point, she spontaneously jumped onto the bar when her animal’s instincts took over.
Calvin kept serving beer like he didn’t have a care in the world.
Her behavior was altered in that state. Cleo tried hard to maintain control, but she needed to surrender and allow her leopard to make decisions.
That was how every Shifter built a relationship with their animal.
Eventually she’d learn to rein in those impulsive instincts enough that her leopard would learn there were rules in public places.
Catcher might be able to help with that. Despite being a wolf, he knew he couldn’t jump onto tables and eat from people’s plates. Regardless, people were more forgiving of teens shifting spontaneously and their animals causing a little mayhem.
Between crossbreeds, a Vampire, a shifting baby, and a tripod, the Arrowhead pack supplied Storybook with enough gossip to tide them over for a few years.
Krys leaned against the bar and scanned the room, unable to locate Virgil.
What the hell is up with him?
On two instances, he’d caught Virgil talking to himself.
Once everyone saw that Cleo was feeling more confident, Robyn caught a ride home with Mercy, since she had work to do.
After Cleo shifted back, she and Lakota started up a game of darts.
Eden was busy chatting with someone having a neighbor dispute, and the guys had taken over the horseshoe booth in the back.
Krys chose not to group with his packmates.
He wanted to walk around, sit with others, and see if anyone was talking shit about Cleo.
“You missed it,” a guy at the bar said to his friend. “She walked in with the biggest fucking tail waving behind her. Nobody’s ever gonna mate with that girl.”
His friend on the stool cackled. “Unless they want a little tail. She’s official now.”
Krys punched the man right off his saddle. Then he glowered at the other guy. “If I ever hear you two talking about that little girl again, I’ll come for you. You got that?”
The man’s eyes widened, and he knelt beside his unconscious friend.
Krys stared at his bloody knuckles as the pain began to register.
Calvin knocked on the bar. “Never hit a man in the mouth or you get a bunch of teeth. There’s ice in the kitchen. I don’t want your wolf shifting in here with your current attitude. Go clean up.”