by Amelia Jade
“No, I’m fine,” he said, sitting back in his chair.
“Okay then. That’s what I thought,” she said with a sniff and moved off.
She moved around to her next table and took their orders. But beyond them, she could see the two shifters in the back, both looking at her.
They’d been watching the entire ordeal with the drunk, she realized. She saw the attractive one slowly unclench his fists, and his arms relaxed as his biceps unbunched as well. It took her a moment to realize why that was happening.
Had he been getting ready to get between me and that drunk?
Part of her was flattered by his seeming protectiveness of her. Another part of her wondered why. It wasn’t like she’d ever felt truly threatened. Allix knew how to handle herself around the drunks, and although most of them might be bigger than she was, two years of MMA training had given her enough of the basics to deal with all but the worst of the bunch.
And whatever the asshole’s name was—he wasn’t a regular—he wasn’t anywhere near the worst that came through the bar.
She finished taking and delivering the orders for three more of her tables. For a Thursday night, the place was fairly busy. Must be because Christmas was that weekend and people had taken the following day off to extend their holidays. Three other girls were working their parts of the bar as well, and another half a dozen patrons filed in, taking up two more tables.
The night was just getting started. She had a feeling it was going to be a record-breaking Thursday if it kept up.
Glancing over at her shifter table, she noticed their pitchers were getting dangerously low.
Steeling herself, she moved over to them to see if they needed a refill. As she neared, she could overhear some of their hushed tones as they spoke.
“Fenris getting mighty full of themselves…”
“Hope it doesn’t escalate…”
“Things…very bad…Cadia.”
They died off as she came closer, but she’d heard enough to be intrigued.
Cadia was the shifter territory located next door to Cloud Lake. Everyone in town knew that. It was the biggest sanctuary, both in terms of sheer land size, and also the population. Other than that, she didn’t know much more about it. The shifters who lived there were notoriously private and patrolled their borders ruthlessly to keep out nosy humans. She knew that a brisk trade existed between the two communities, but to her knowledge all trucks stopped at the border and were driven by shifters the rest of the way. They took their privacy seriously.
Which is a shame. I’d love to see the world they live in.
Which, she thought after a moment, was probably the exact reason why they kept their borders closed. They knew they were different, but they didn’t feel like being gawked at and treated like some sort of zoo exhibit. She couldn’t blame them for that either; nobody wanted to be stared at like they were a piece of meat.
The news that there were tensions between Cadia and Fenris, another shifter stronghold far to the west, was also surprising. She’d thought they all got along rather peacefully, united in a sort of us versus them movement against the much more numerous human population. To hear that Fenris—which to her admittedly limited knowledge was the second largest shifter territory—was getting full of themselves, and that things might escalate, was both surprising and slightly scary.
Allix didn’t want to contemplate what a fight between them would be like. Not that it would concern her or anything, but she didn’t want to see anyone get hurt if it could be avoided.
“Another round?” she asked politely as the pair looked up at her.
“Yes,” the one who stared at her said, his eyes never leaving hers as she waited while they drained the last of their current round and handed her the drinks.
She frowned at him, trying to encourage him to be a little politer.
Chapter Two
Luther
Stop staring.
That’s what the frown meant, he was sure of it. He couldn’t help himself though; something about her was drawing him in. She was gorgeous, yes. For a human woman she was on the tall size—two, maybe three inches below six feet. Her long legs were thick, and though he’d tried to be polite, he’d noticed the way her pants curved up and over her rear. It wasn’t too big, wasn’t too small, and she clearly did some sort of physical activity that kept it firmly defying gravity.
She wasn’t in shape, but she had enough muscle on her frame to tell him that she wasn’t a weakling either. She was proud of her size, and unafraid to flaunt it just a bit either. The lack of skin showing told him she probably did it for her own sake, and not to impress anyone.
He tore his eyes away from her black yoga pants and white button-up look, trying to find anything else to focus on to make it clear he wasn’t completely checking her out.
“Subtle, Luther. Real subtle,” Aksel said, needling him repeatedly after she was once again out of hearing range. “I don’t think she has any idea you’ve been drooling over her all evening.”
A surge of anger flowed through him, and he felt his bear stir, but he let it slide. Aksel might not be a close friend, but he wasn’t being an asshole either. He was telling the truth. Luther had been making a fool of himself with the server.
Not that she wasn’t worth making a fool over.
“Yeah, tell me about it,” he muttered. “Still, there’s something about her…”
Something in his voice must have tipped off Aksel. “Dude, you don’t even know her name.”
“I know. And she thinks I’m an asshole—”
“You are an asshole,” Aksel interrupted.
“Thanks,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Like I was saying, she thinks I’m an asshole, so it’s going to be hard. But she’s been staring right back,” he said. “Not avoiding me, nor calling me out.”
“Probably thinks you’re as dumb as you look. Just another Neolithic shifter who can’t think with anything but his dick.”
Luther growled warningly at Aksel, but the other man just sat back and laughed. “Relax man, I’m just giving you a hard time.”
“I know.”
“And can we not get into a fight tonight?” Aksel added.
“What?” He turned his gaze away from where the waitress had disappeared to fill their beer once more and focused it on Aksel.
“I saw the way you reacted when that guy touched her.” The bear shifter was being serious now, all teasing gone from his demeanor. “You almost ripped the table from its mount and flung it at some dumb drunk.”
Luther protested. “Not true,” he stated.
Aksel arched an eyebrow, clearly not believing him.
“It’s true!” Luther said. “I wasn’t going to throw the table at him!”
Aksel snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. “You know what I meant.”
“Yeah, I do. And I promise I won’t start a fight tonight. But if she gets in any trouble she can’t handle, I’m not sure I can stay uninvolved.”
The other man leaned forward. “They have bouncers for that, man. Let the staff do their job. You’ll just cause more trouble, for them and for us.”
“No promises,” Luther said darkly, sitting upright.
“Come on man,” Aksel insisted. “The guy didn’t mean anything by it.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yes, I’m positive. Most of the girls who work here would have accepted that wad of cash in a heartbeat. That’s the way they roll.”
Luther looked over at him crossly.
“I’m not making this up.” Aksel stood his ground. “Your girl is different, I guess, but this guy didn’t know that. Should he have given up earlier? Yes. But he’s wasted, and don’t pretend like you haven’t been too persistent at some point while drunk.”
He couldn’t lie; it was true.
“So you say most of the servers also, ah, offer services on the side?” he asked.
Aksel nodded. “Yeah. It’s just that type of bar.”
<
br /> “Oh. So why doesn’t she?” he asked.
The other shifter shrugged. “I don’t know. But it didn’t sound like it was a ‘not tonight’ type of rejection, did it?”
“No,” Luther said thoughtfully. “It did not. It sounded very much like a ‘I’m not that type of girl.’”
The pair fell quiet as she returned.
To make up for his earlier rudeness, Luther decided to pick up the tab for the round. He pulled a large stack of bills from his pocket, peeled off several that more than covered the pitchers, and pushed it toward the waitress.
“This is for you…” he paused, hoping she would fill in the blank with her name.
The waitress looked at the folded cash.
“Are you serious?”
He looked down at the money, then back at her. “Yes? It’s real money, not fake.”
Anger flared in her eyes and he opened his mouth to try and extinguish it.
“Do you not take cash anymore? I can pay by card,” he stammered as she worked her jaw.
“What do you take me for?” she asked, and to his surprise her voice wasn’t pure rage. She was angry, of that he had no doubt. It was written on her face and in her body language.
But unlike with the drunk earlier, her anger was mixed with something else. Sadness? Disappointment? A mixture of the two?
He wasn’t sure, but Luther had no idea why she’d suddenly gotten so worked up.
“I…” he paused. “Our server? I don’t understand.”
She rolled her eyes. “Playing innocent isn’t going to work with me. I know your type, and what you look for.”
Luther looked to Aksel for help, but the shifter was just staring in shock.
“Listen, please, whatever your name is, I don’t know what’s going on, I just wanted to pay—”
“Allix, and I thought I made it clear,” she snapped, taking just enough to cover the pitchers and a tip and leaving the rest of the bills scattered on the table.
Luther just stared after her, before he turned and looked over at Aksel.
“At least I got her name this time?” he said, trying to make it seem like she hadn’t just torn a strip off of him.
The other man was doing his best not to laugh.
“Okay, so you’ve figured out what the hell just happened?” he snapped.
Aksel nodded, his shoulders shaking as he held his sides.
“Well, out with it then. What the fuck did I do wrong there?” he growled, his voice deep enough to rattle the table in front of them slightly.
“You don’t see it at all, do you?” his drinking partner chortled. “I didn’t at first, but now I get it. Oh man, you screwed up. You screwed up so bad. She’s never going to give you the time of day now.”
Luther felt his eyes blaze with anger, and he tried to keep his temper in check. Reaching across the table and throttling Aksel wouldn’t help anything just then.
“I think you should tell me,” he said quietly.
“Dude, you pushed a wad of cash at her, and told her it was for her.”
“So? I was trying to make up for being rude earlier.”
“Yes, but think about it. Think what it looked like to her!”
Luther stared blankly.
“She thought you were trying to buy her,” Aksel said, taking pity on him.
Luther’s head snapped around as he looked over to the bar. No, she couldn’t think that. Could she? He hadn’t intended it to come across like that. Not at all.
“I need to apologize,” he said, beginning to rise.
Aksel spoke sharply then, his tone changing completely.
“Luther, sit down right now. We have a bigger problem.”
***
Allix
She was practically trembling with rage. The pitchers clanked and rattled against each other as she sharply set them down onto the bar, shaking her head.
How could he? Had he figured that she’d turned down the other man, just because he was waiting for him to make an offer?
The shifter was much better looking. Much better. He was attractive, muscular, dreamy even. If he hadn’t been so rude to her, she might have considered even chatting him up, which was something she never did with customers.
Allix came to the bar to do a job. She did it, made her money, and went home. She didn’t interact with the other staff much, didn’t go out partying with them, and she always wore her outfit properly.
The other staff were far more laid back. They chatted and flirted with the customers, left two, or even three more buttons undone than was necessary. Allix wasn’t above using a hint of cleavage to increase her tips. She understood sex sells, and she had the breasts to do so. But while she merely hinted at her large bosom, the other servers kept their shirts so low the customers saw just about everything.
Then again, most of the other girls took money for far more than just bringing drinks to and from the tables. They would never disappear while working. But their breaks, or after they got cut for the night was a different story. More than once Allix had seen lewd things going on beside the dumpster out back.
I suppose I can’t blame them. They make good money doing it, and if they’re comfortable with it, all the power to them, right? It’s just not for me.
The other girls thought she was weird for saying no to the lucrative offers, but they rarely gave her any shit for it. After all, that meant more money for them to make.
It did, unfortunately, give her a bit of a reputation among the regulars for being somewhat of a bitch. After they’d exhausted themselves trying to convince her to “give up the goods,” they’d just tried to sit elsewhere in the bar when she was working, avoiding her section.
Thus, Allix got most of the newcomers, and the ones the other girls didn’t want to deal with. Sometimes she was okay with that, but other times she hated it. Tonight, it seemed, was going to be one of the latter nights.
You can handle it, Allix. You’re a big girl.
And handle it she would. First though, she had to figure out why this was bothering her so much more than the first man to solicit her that night. The drunk she’d told off, and then put it out of her mind with practiced ease. She was used to it, so why should this one be any different?
Her brain flashed a memory of him clenching his fists when she’d been accosted. That was it. She’d mistakenly judged him as getting protective, of wanting to come to her aid. Therefore she’d expected him to be a nice guy. That was where it had all gone downhill.
Never expect someone to be a nice guy. Rule Number One.
So there it was. She’d hoped he would be a good guy. The fact that he’d been getting mad because he wanted her for himself, and not because of what was happening to her, was how she’d been caught so off guard. Well, she was aware now, and while she would continue to serve them, it would only be the most perfunctory thing now.
Allix reached out and flicked the tap off, killing the flow of beer into the pitcher in front of her. Both of them now refilled—although slightly less than she might have topped them off if the pair had remained polite, her own form of petty revenge—she turned and headed back to their table, preparing several snarky responses to anything they might be likely to say.
Her footsteps slowed as she rounded the curve of the bar though. For the first time since he’d entered, the newer shifter’s focus was not on her as she came back into sight. He was facing forward intently, looking at his friend. The other shifter, his name started with a J, she believed—Jared maybe? She couldn’t remember when he’d told her the other night he was in the bar—was looking past the new guy, consternation on his face.
Allix continued on her path, trying to look discreetly to her right. But she was facing the wrong way, and needed to watch her steps as she descended from the bar to the floor. The six-inch drop wasn’t much, but it could be treacherous if she got distracted.
The pair of shifters tried to stop her. She realized that too late as she slowed to a halt in front of t
heir table.
“Thanks,” J said, sliding her some of the remaining cash on the table.
“No problem. Signal me if you need anything,” she said quickly, snatching up the bills and tucking them into her apron.
She wasn’t sure what was going on, but Allix knew she should be moving away from their table, rapidly. Their attention was focused firmly behind her.
Too late.
She felt the footsteps behind her almost at the same time that she sensed the presences. Suddenly nervous, though she had no idea why, Allix turned in place.
Three huge men loomed up in front of her. Way up. She craned her neck, eyes widening to take in their broad shoulders and thick, muscular arms. The difference between the two groups was stark, however. Whereas her customers were dressed in clean shirts and jeans, the new trio’s clothing was ripped and stained with what she could only surmise was blood. Several cuts marred their faces, and one of them she noticed was missing a tooth.
Odd. I thought shifters healed relatively fast. For them to have cuts would mean…
That they’d just recently been in a fight. As a server at a seedy bar, Allix was good at judging the body language of people. And these three were radiating hatred and anger in all directions.
“Friends of yours?” she asked to the pair sitting down, hoping they might be able to settle things down before it got out of hand.
The meanest of the bunch eyed her and laughed. “No.” He uttered the single word with more malice and contempt than she’d heard in a long time.
She grimaced. “I thought not. Well gentleman, can I convince you to at least take it outside? We’ve not had a shifter fight here since before I started working here, and I’d really like to avoid having one tonight.”
“Fight?” One of them asked in feigned innocence. “Oh, we’re not here to fight, missy. Not unless these losers start one.”
“Good,” she said, her tone making it clear she didn’t believe them for a second. “Then you can have any seat you wish.”
“Any seat?” the third one asked with a leer.
“Yes,” she said, trying to be firm about it.
