Chapter 23
The setting seemed ordinary at first, featuring a rectangular front bar, seating stools, round tables, billiards, a dartboard on the far wall, alongside numerous screens.
It was the materials they used for the furniture, thick wood, parts of it still maintaining the bark.
Curved iron reinforced the stools and made up the light fixtures hanging from the ceiling.
A bluesy, country song played over the speakers, but not so loud as to drown out conversation.
The people were this place’s most notable feature.
They weren’t only wolf shifters, but a part of Harkin’s pack.
Eyes of every hue, shining brightly, turned toward us as we entered—green, yellow, blue, purple.
Conversations hushed, their gazes roaming from our joined hands to my face, then to their alpha to confirm that, yes, we were not a mirage.
After several uncomfortable, silent beats, head nods traveled through the crowd, followed by verbal acknowledgements of “Alpha.” The wolf nodded to them before leading me to two corner stools at the bar.
I hopped into my seat, casually tapping my fingernails to Bark at the Moon by Ozzy Osbourne playing lightly over the loudspeakers.
Snorting, I whispered to Harkin, “Is the music themed in here?”
He adjusted his Stetson as if it were impeding his hearing. He smirked. “Coincidence.”
“Nothing’s a coincidence with us, Kins, or haven’t you figured that out yet?”
His honeyed gaze traveled over my body, intriguing and all-consuming.
“What can I get for you, Alpha?” The bartender, a younger-looking male wolf with jet-black hair just past his ears and a wide, slanted nose, asked, placing cocktail napkins in front of us.
Not looking at him, Harkin asked me, “What you havin’?”
Your neck again? Or we could get crazy. Your biceps. Your thigh. Your ass.
“I can nurse a beer,” I teased, unabashedly slipping my hand over his knee.
The wolf did not move my fingers from his leg.
“Two Shiners,” he ordered, digging in his back pocket.
The bartender waved a hand at him. “Your money is no good here, Alpha.”
Harkin removed several bills from his jeans. “Might not be, but I still tip.”
Fuck, he was hot.
“Alpha,” a man shouted.
Harkin peered over his shoulder, a wide smile following. “Garrick, you son of a gun, where the hells you been?”
I swiveled on my stool in time to see the two male shifters lock forearms and bro-hug in greeting. Garrick had a mop of shaggy brown hair down to his collarbone, deep-set cheekbones, and glacially blue eyes.
“Just finished working out a deal in Chicago for cross-funding. Took longer than expected, but it’ll give us a steady cash flow for a couple months.” Garrick stole a glance in my direction, but respectfully didn’t linger.
“Good news.” Harkin pushed his hat back to scratch his hairline with his thumb.
Good news, but not a permanent solution.
Garrick chuckled and slapped Harkin on the shoulder. “I’d say it meant you might not have to take those odd jobs no more, but something tells me you didn’t mind.” His eyes flicked to mine.
Harkin pulled me closer by wedging his boot under a rung of my stool. “Garrick, this is Aurora.”
Garrick flashed me a sparkling grin, his canines gleaming from the surrounding neon beer brand signs. “Wondered how long I was going to have to pretend not to notice her.” He held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
I shook with him. “Trust me, I often pretend Harkin is invisible too. Easier to cope that way.”
Harkin tickled my side with a single finger, making me squirm.
Garrick chuckled as he removed a wooden box from his backpack. “And she’s got humor to boot? I can see why you keep her close, Hark.”
I practically draped myself on him, our hips cinched tight. We were close. It had happened as effortlessly as blinking. I loved it here. Right here, fused with my wolf.
Harkin sat up straighter when he caught sight of the mysterious box. “Those what I think they are?”
“Hemingway’s. They sure are.” Garrick opened the container, revealing a row of cigars. “Take one.”
Harkin lifted his hand, but paused. “You sure? These aren’t exactly cheap.”
“You’re my alpha, Harkin. It’d be my honor to give you one.”
Harkin didn’t have to be told twice. He swiped one and immediately ran it under his nose, taking a long whiff. “Oh, yeah. That’s the stuff.”
“Careful,” I mused, poking my wolf in the chest. “You’re going to make me jealous of a cigar.”
“Where are my manners?” Garrick bopped himself on the head. “Would you like one, Aurora?”
With an appreciate smile, I shook my head. “I occasionally partake, but your fancy-smelling rolled tobacco would be wasted on me. You boys enjoy.”
They cut and lit their cigars, puffing on them. Their groans about the flavor and aroma bordered on orgasmic.
“I’m sorry,” a woman’s voice said from behind me.
I cut my gaze to Harkin as if to ask, “Will she be a problem?” He discreetly shook his head.
Turning, I fixed a smile, facing a female shifter with bright blonde hair, rosy apple cheeks and lilac eyes. “Yes?”
“Hi. You’re a—” The woman’s fingers wrung together. “—a vampire, right?”
“Careful, Jessica,” Harkin’s gruff voice answered, his amber eyes squinting at her through the billowing haze of cigar smoke.
Jessica fanned her palms, her head shaking emphatically. “I’m not trying to start anything, Alpha, I promise. I’ve never met one before. I hoped maybe I could ask you some questions?”
The curiosity and innocence dancing in Jessica’s bright eyes gave my old soul a hum.
“Sure. Hop on up here.” I patted the empty stool next to me.
As the night drew on, Jessica asked me everything from what happens when I don’t have enough blood to how I slept in darkness in a pinch and if the fangs hurt.
Questions I hadn’t been expecting, but were refreshing in their simplicity.
It was relaxing. Most would immediately ask how vampires were made, or our specific weaknesses.
Two things I never answered. If the truth could disappear into the footnotes of history, it would be better for everyone.
“I realize there’s animosity between shifters and vampires, but is that how you all really feel?” Jessica asked, slurping her rum and Coke through a straw.
My wolf’s heated stare at my side could singe my hair from its intensity.
“I think the two species have misunderstandings. Most would rather instantly go to blows because they have the excuse instead of, gods forbid—” I pressed a pretend dainty hand to my chest. “—have a conversation.”
Jessica put her elbows on the bar, her chin resting in her hands. “This is so incredibly interesting, but if I don’t pee, I think I might burst.” She sprinted from her stool, holding a hand up to me as she dashed to the bathroom. “I’ll be right back.”
“She’s sweet,” I said to Harkin, sipping my now warm beer.
Harkin turned his back to the bar, leaning on it with forearms propped, the cigar between his teeth. “You are, too, for givin’ her an interview.”
“Do not tell a soul. One must keep up appearances for their badass bitch label.” I flicked my hair over one shoulder.
“Had a thought.” He inched closer.
“Another one? You’re on a roll tonight, cowboy.”
Harkin pushed his hat up his head so he could bring our faces a breath apart. “I don’t think we ever hated each other.”
“No? It sure felt like it to me when I left that night. I had dreams of you spontaneously combusting.”
He slow-blinked. “Really?”
Nodding but smiling, I patted his thigh. “Finish what you were about to say.”
Harkin rested the cigar on an ashtray and cupped my chin in his hand. “We never hated each other. We hated our situations.”
The tension. The frustration. The jealousy. The rage. All those emotions centered on the simple fact that we couldn’t be together when every cell in our bodies screamed for it.
I hovered my lips near his. “You should get that embroidered on a pillow.”
“Like that?” The wolf grinned, gave me a quick, delicious kiss, and put the cigar back in his mouth.
My blood suddenly froze, thrumming in my veins.
It wasn’t reacting to Harkin this time. It was an aroma drifting somewhere in the bar.
It was barely there at first, the faint hint of cedar, recognizable but not all-telling.
Something floral, dried and faintly sweet.
Not a single shifter in the bar had a sweet scent.
Beneath it all, the pungent metallic brim of iron.
As I got to my feet, I scanned the room.
Nothing but shifters in every corner, seated at all the tables. That was it.
The past days events must’ve been drudging up centuries-old memories, playing fucking mind tricks on me.
Harkin tugged on my shirt. “You alright, sweetheart?”
“Alpha,” another female voice said, which didn’t belong to Jessica. This shifter was buxom with flowing red waves and eyes the color of limes. Freckles scattered her cheeks, and her nose did a swoop to its button point.
“Yes, Jade?” Harkin asked, eyeing her speculatively.
Given Garrick was eyeing her too, had me scooting to the edge of my stool.
Jade had her hands balled into fists at her sides. She bounced from one foot to another. After licking her lips, unable to make eye contact with me, she blurted. “I don’t approve of your relationship with the vampire. A lot of us don’t. I’ve chosen to speak for that group.”
I emphasized my turning my back on her. That lasted all of two hours. Figured. None of this was going to be easy. It never would. The beef between shifters and vamps had been going on for far too long.
Harkin bit into his cigar and rose. He moved past me, curling an arm around my waist as if to prove a point. He loomed over Jade. “You don’t, do ya?” His gaze lifted to the establishment that had gone quiet, several tables averting their eyes elsewhere.
“Respectfully, of course, Alpha.” Jade’s nervous laughter made my neck tense.
The wolf scratched his nose with a claw that had slid out. “Don’t recall anyone in the pack havin’ an opinion on who I spent my time with.”