by Mary Abshire
"Did you see the tattoo on the back of his head?" she asked.
"No shame in admitting the truth," Donnie said.
Gail rose to her feet. "No, but it's like a freaking neon sign on his big head."
I chuckled and stood. Donnie followed my lead, then slipped his arms through a thin cotton jacket.
"You're just jealous you don't have a tattoo," Donnie teased.
"You know, I have been thinking about getting a wicked she-devil painted on my face," Gail said.
"I'll give you a thousand dollars if you do it." Donnie stood in front of Gail. He was a few inches taller than her. "Your dad would kick you out if you went home with a tattoo on your face."
Gail shoved his shoulder. "You better be careful, I might take you up on that offer."
Donnie twisted, and ran into a metal chair. It scraped over the floor. After he righted himself, he said, "Bitch."
Gail laughed, and moved closer to him. "Yeah, and who covers for you every time you're late for work or out smoking weed?"
"Hey, I haven't smoked a joint in six weeks," he said softly.
"Good, you need to stop thinking about that crap and focus on your studies," Gail said. "Now, where are we going to take Jessie?"
He ran his fingers through his black hair. "Let's go to the Whaler. We can eat, drink, and chat for a while."
"The Whaler?" I asked. "Where's that?"
"It's on Muldoon Road in Anchorage—not far from here," Gail replied. "You'll like it."
"Sounds good," I said. "I am getting a bit thirsty."
"Come on,"—she jerked her head toward the exit—"I'm driving."
As Donnie led the way behind the last few people, I unzipped the pocket of my jacket, then grabbed my cell phone. Holding it in front of me, I dialed Drake's number.
"Boyfriend?" Gail asked, and I nodded.
On our way out, I informed Drake of the name of the bar and location. He asked how the meeting went. I kept my answer short and sweet. By the time we reached Gail's sedan, I ended the call.
Donnie offered to let me sit in the front passenger seat, which I humbly accepted. My mind filled with questions the more time I spent with him and Gail. So far, I'd gathered he was in school, college I presumed, and she lived at home with her dad.
"So…" Gail said as she backed out of the parking spot. She shifted gears, then spun the wheel. "What did you think?"
"Honestly, I got a little bored with the hockey talk. Other than that, I thought the meeting was fine."
Donnie leaned between the seats. "See, not everybody loves hockey. I, myself, find it boring also."
Gail glanced in her rearview mirror. "Oh that's because you suck at skating."
"Actually, I don't enjoy watching a bunch of boys or men chasing after a puck and then ramming into each other."
Gail grinned. "It's not my fault all the players are hot."
Chuckling, I wondered if they were siblings. They acted as if they knew each other well. "Are you two related?"
"Oh, no." Donnie laughed while he shook his head. "We just work together and hang out sometimes."
"How did you meet, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I started working at the grocery when I was eighteen. Gail trained me."
"Are you in school?" I asked.
He brushed his black bangs away from his eyes. "I started taking classes at UAA part-time in August. I'm working at two part-time jobs right now, trying to save up enough to move out on my own."
"How old are you?" I asked.
"Nineteen."
And what a gorgeous set of blue eyes he had. If he trimmed his hair and wiped away the dark makeup, he'd attract all the babes.
"Donnie can't drink in public. But when the waiters aren't looking, I'll give him one of my shots," Gail said.
"The legal drinking age is so unfair," Donnie said with a shake of his head.
I agreed with him. Alcohol didn't affect demons the way it did humans. Our body chemistry broke down the alcohol content quickly, leaving very little to no change in us. Alas, we lived in a world were humans outnumbered supernatural creatures and the majority didn't believe we existed, so we hid among them and played by their rules. The creation of communities helped demons, warlocks, witches, and other creatures connect with others of their race, but we still had to adhere to human laws and guidelines in public.
"How old are you?" Gail asked, glancing at me.
"Twenty-five," I replied. "And you?"
Gail sighed. "Twenty-two. My parents couldn't afford to send me to college, so I got a job and took a few classes online. I'd really, really like to move out, but I'd have to get another job to support myself."
"I totally understand. I had a roommate in Chicago and we split everything," I said, thinking of Dani. Though I fibbed about living in the Windy City instead of Indianapolis, I made my point clear. Living single was just too damn expensive.
"What did you do in Chicago?"
"My roommate and I worked as data analysts for a technology company."
Donnie slapped his hand on the seat divider. "Hey, did you hear there is a company in Anchorage hiring?"
"Yeah, I did. I'm going to look online tomorrow and see if I can apply for a job," I said.
"Sounds like you're planning on staying here for a long time then," Gail said.
"I'd like to."
"Will your vampire friend be staying too?"
"Oh yes, definitely."
"Is he your boyfriend?"
Oh boy, here come the twenty questions. "Yep. He's a great guy."
"He's a vamp," Donnie said, curling his upper lip.
"He's a decent man with a great heart and soul. He'd never hurt anyone unless someone tried to harm me. He's not like other vampires."
Gail looked away from the road briefly. "You know they like demon blood, right?"
"Yeah, I know, and I don't mind sharing. Trust me, he's a good man. I wouldn't be with him if he were anything other."
"He must really care about you to come to Alaska. Vamps hate it here," Gail said.
"Yes, he does, and I can't imagine life without him." Truly, I couldn't.
Donnie sat back in his seat. For several minutes, no one spoke. Were they afraid of vampires? I doubted it. From Donnie's reaction, I suspected they simply disliked them. I understood their reasoning. Vamps loved to feed from demons. But Drake was not a regular vampire. Sure, his genetic makeup included the craving for hot demon blood, but he wasn't a killer. They had nothing to fear with him roaming the Alaskan wilderness.
Gail steered the vehicle into a crowded lot for a strip mall. In the middle of the building, I spotted a sign for The Whaler. Unable to find a spot nearby the small restaurant, Gail drove to the opposite end of the shopping complex, then parked the car.
"This place is always packed after meetings. The werewolves like to come here, too," Gail said, keys jingling in her hand. She pushed open her door before I could get a word out.
We met on the sidewalk in front of the car.
"Is there a large werewolf community here?" I asked.
Gail and I walked side by side toward The Whaler while Donnie trailed behind us. Tiny pellets of salt crunched under our boots.
Gail nodded. "Oh yeah. It's nearly as big as ours."
I wondered if any of them were truck drivers. In July, I'd met Alan, owner of Vandett Trucking Company, and learned most of the truck operators on the road were werewolves. After a couple traitors in his company kidnapped me and got away, I was a bit fearful of mingling with other werewolves.
Gail pushed open the glass door to The Whaler. Loud voices and rock music welcomed us as we strode inside. The scent of fried food and beer drifted in the air. I glanced around and noticed the bar, round tables, and booths all appeared occupied. Neon signs and advertisements for liquor decorated the walls, reminding me of the tavern I frequented back in Indy. Sensing the strong energy filling the room, my skin twitched and the hairs on the back of my neck tickled me. Werewolves were in the house.
> "Hi," said a bright-smiling waitress as she approached. "How many in your party?"
"Just three," Gail said.
The waitress twisted around and her ponytail swayed. She took a few steps away from us as she searched for a vacant table. Then she returned and faced us. "We have a booth, if that's okay?"
"That's fine," Gail said.
"Follow me," the smiling waitress said.
She led the way through the maze of tables. Customers were busy chatting, eating, and gulping large pitchers of beer. Burgers and fries appeared to be the food of choice. Midway through the restaurant, the waitress stopped.
"Your server will be right with you," she said, her arm pointing at an empty booth.
"Thanks," Gail said before the waitress strode away. She slid across the seat. I sat in the booth facing her. Donnie sat next to me.
"You don't mind, do you?" He knocked his elbow with mine accidently. "Gail's a loud eater."
I chuckled. "No, not at all."
Gail snatched a plastic menu leaning against the wall. "Whatever, and your breath doesn't stink." She pushed the menu over the table to Donnie.
Grinning at their jokes, I grabbed a menu for myself. "What's good here?"
"The fish sandwiches are really good." Donnie flipped open the menu. "The tartar sauce is a house specialty."
I scanned over the selections. Seafood dishes populated the menu. Lucky for me, I loved seafood.
"You always get the fish sandwich," Gail said.
Donnie closed his menu. "Yeah, because it's good."
She shook her head.
"What are you going to get?" I asked Gail.
"I'm going to get…" She stared at the menu. "The chicken strips."
Both choices sounded good. Decisions, decisions…
"Hi," the server said. "My name's Clyde. Can I get you a drink?" He held a small notepad and pen in his hand.
Gail lifted her head from the menu. "Three shots please, vodka, and"—she shifted her gaze to Donnie—"a cola?"
"That's fine," he said, his voice flat.
"All right, be right back," Clyde said before he left.
I folded my menu and stuck it back between the napkin dispenser and the wall.
"What are you getting?" Donnie asked.
"I'm going to try the fish sandwich. I love seafood," I replied.
He slid his menu to Gail. "Finally, someone takes my advice."
"Don't get used to it." She grabbed the menu, then dropped it by the wall with hers.
The waiter appeared, carrying a tray with our drinks. "Who gets the extra shot?" He set a glass in front of Gail, clinking it on the table.
Gail pointed her finger at me. "She does."
Smiling, he set both glasses in front of me. "Did you decide on anything to eat?" He set a red plastic cup on the table near Donnie.
The three of us took turns giving our orders. The waiter jotted them down, then said he'd return to check on us in a few minutes. I watched him walk away and caught a good view of the couple sitting a few tables from us. The thin female I'd seen at the meeting sat very close to the bald man, scanning over a menu. Hell, she was practically in his lap.
I tapped my finger on my chin. "What's her name? I've forgotten already."
Gail turned to look.
"Julie, I think." Donnie said, his gaze aimed in their direction.
Gail returned her attention to us, then picked up her shot glass. "They look happy." She gulped the clear liquid. Wincing, she clanked her glass on the table.
Not wasting any time, I tossed the liquor into my mouth. The fluid burned my throat and sparked a rise in my temperature as it flowed down within me.
Donnie slapped his hand on the table. "Hey, did you hear Mr. Snyder was found stabbed to death?"
"Oh yeah," Gail said, her voice soft yet elevated with excitement. "I heard he was murdered during that storm the other night."
Immediately, my curiosity rose. I wondered if Mr. Snyder was the same victim at the scene Drake had driven by when we arrived. "Who was Mr. Snyder?"
"He taught at the local high school," Donnie said. "They found him in his neighborhood."
"Was he human or other?" I asked.
"Human," they both said at the same time. "He was my English teacher for two years." Gail added.
"Mine, too, for one year. He was a cool teacher," Donnie said.
"Do the police have any ideas who did it?" I gulped my second shot. Sweat bubbled above my brow and on the back of my neck while my mind lightly drifted.
Gail shrugged.
"My dad is friends with one of the cops that found him," Donnie said. "Word is, Mr. Snyder's death might be similar to the stabbings in Anchorage."
"Who would do that?" Nose wrinkled, Gail held a look of utter disgust on her face.
"Some cops from Anchorage were supposed to come and look at the body." Donnie turned his gaze past Gail.
"He was such a nice man." Gail shook her head. "He'd always talk to me when he came in the store."
Donnie stiffened.
"What's wrong?" Gail asked, staring at Donnie.
I peered around Gail and saw two large men approaching. One of them had short brown hair, a fierce gaze, and a goatee. The other had short dark hair and a tattoo covering one of his arms. The man with the overgrowth on his face looked familiar. My stomach cramped. Within seconds, I recognized him. Holy fucking shit!
They stopped at our table.
"Hello, Jessie. Fancy meeting you here," the man with the goatee said, glowering at me.
Just my luck, the fucking werewolf that kidnapped me and had gotten away was in Eagle River.
Chapter Eight
The arrogant smile on Gabe's face infuriated me. Sweat trickled from my temple. Oh how I wanted to reach over the table and slap the grin off him.
He crossed his large, hairy arms. "I never thought a half-demon would end up in Alaska."
Gail's gaze immediately jumped to Donnie. Maybe I should've mentioned that tiny part about me, but it shouldn't have mattered.
"Is this where all the pack rejects come?" I glared at Gabe. "I'll be sure to call Alan right away."
His grin transformed into a frown. He uncrossed his arms, planted his palms on the table, then leaned toward me. "Bitch, you are in my territory now."
"Whoa, big guy," Gail said, her voice elevated.
Gabe removed his hands from the table, but continued to glower at me. Sensing his rage, I expected him to unleash his fury at any moment.
The bald man with Julie appeared next to Gabe. He slapped his hand on Gabe's shoulder. "Is there a problem here?"
Gabe's eyes widened. He opened his mouth, but words didn't come out. Even more strange, his movements suddenly halted. He stood frozen in time as if he had turned into a mannequin.
The bald man tightened his grip on Gabe's shoulder as he looked at us. "Is this man causing trouble?"
"Yes," Gail and I said in unison.
Gabe's werewolf friend took a step back. He looked at Gabe first, then at the bald guy. "Look, man, we came by to say hello. Nothing more."
I chuckled. Yeah, right.
"You and your friend need to leave," the bald man said.
"Sure, man. We're leaving." The dark-haired werewolf tugged on Gabe's arm. Only, Gabe didn't move.
Julie's boyfriend slid his hand away. Two seconds later, Gabe blinked his eyes. He took a small step back.
"Get the fuck out," the bald man said.
Gabe pointed at me. "We aren't done."
"I think we are right now." I grinned.
"Come on," Gabe's friend said, tugging his arm.
After a few tense seconds, the two werewolves finally left. I hoped Drake was outside, sitting in his car. Maybe he'd recognize Gabe and jump him and his friend when they walked out. Then I remembered that Drake never actually saw Gabe. Well, he might have, on the night of the challenge, but I never pointed out Gabe to him. Drake probably wouldn't recognize the werewolf. Once again, Gabe and his frie
nd would walk away free. Damn it, why couldn't I catch a break?
The bald man met my gaze. His chocolaty eyes were demanding, bold, and a bit frightening. "He seems to have an issue with you."
"He got kicked out of a pack in Arizona, and he blames me," I said.
"That sounds like a fucking big problem," he said. "By the way, I'm Leon."
"I'm Jessie. This is Gail and Donnie." I tilted my head as I introduced my friends. "How did you prevent him from moving?"
"Oh, I have a special touch that immobilizes people. It's handy with fuckers like him."
"Leon, baby." Julie strode in front of our table. She coiled her arm around his. "Come back to our table. Our food will be here soon."
The two smacked lips and flashed a little tongue. Donnie, Gail, and I watched as if we had never seen people kiss. What was it with them, making out in public?
"Thanks for making them go away," I said.
The happy couple parted lips.
"Come on," Julie whined, tugging on his arm.
Our waiter showed up with a tray full of food as the two lovebirds meandered back to their table.
"Ah, just in time." Donnie rubbed his palms together.
The waiter placed a yellow basket in front of Donnie and me. Gail got a blue basket. Everything looked yummy and smelled delicious.
"Can I get you anything else?"
I shook my head.
"We're good." Gail smiled.
"Napkins are on the table. Enjoy," the waiter said before he dashed away.
I lifted half of the fish sandwich. Lettuce, tartar sauce, and cheese peeked out between the bread and fish. I took a bite and various flavors swarmed my tongue.
"Mmm…" I mumbled while I chewed. "This is really good."
Donnie grinned. "Yep. The best." He took a big bite from his sandwich.
Gail dipped one of her chicken fingers in ranch dip. "Why does that werewolf blame you for getting kicked out of a pack?"
I finished chewing and thought about my response. They didn't need to know all the details. "Well, I'm good friends with an Alpha. Gabe wanted to get back at him, so he kidnapped me. Luckily, I managed to get away from him with the help of my boyfriend. When I told the Alpha what happened, he expelled Gabe from the pack." And none of what I said was a lie. Maybe a distorted version of the truth, but not a lie.