One of the regulars, a guy named Ole, turned around and leered at her. She could already tell he was a few drinks in, and knew from years of serving him booze that he was a sloppy drunk. “How ya doin’, Mara?” he asked, his words already beginning to slur.
Amara put on her best bartender’s smile. “Doing just fine, Ole. Doing just fine. Hey, Mitch, did my spirits order come in this afternoon? They were two days late because of the snow, and we’re running low on tequila.”
Chuckling, Mitch set his glass down and reached beneath the bar to pull out a bottle of amber liquid. “Checked in and unloaded. Shouldn’t have to worry about it for a while.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” she said, tying a small, black apron around her waist. She winked at the young guy at the end of the bar, knowing she could weasel a big tip from him if she played her cards right. With a smile, she asked for his order, then grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured him a shot. She slid it down the bar to him, praying he would catch it. “Nice work, honey,” she purred, grinning when he blushed scarlet.
“Did you hear about the wolf sightings?” Mitch asked, keeping his voice down.
“I heard,” Amara replied darkly, feeling the familiar trickle of fear whisper down her spine. “How many is that this month?”
“At least ten.”
“Damn. And what’s the Mayor doing, anything? Or the Sherriff?”
Mitch shook his head gravely. “You know they’re trying, Amara. You, better than anyone, know what wolves can do. They don’t want that to happen again. Trouble is, for every wolf they kill, it seems like two more of them come back. Don’t you have that one that keeps following you around? Have you killed him yet?”
Amara shifted uncomfortably. It was true, she did have a wolf who liked to lurk around outside her door. A gray and silver wolf, with dark, troubled eyes. Yet, even for as much as she hated his kind, she couldn’t help but think that this one was different. There was almost something…protective about the way he watched her sometimes. Like she was his to look after, though he never got too close.
Mitch eyed her knowingly. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
“Oh, bite me, Mitchell,” she shot back, but there was no heat in it. Mitch just chuckled.
As the time got later, the bar started to fill up, and Amara’s shift became the way she liked it: more work, and less chatter. She was just handing a couple of beers to a couple on a weekend trip when a stranger sat down in front of her.
He was dressed oddly for the weather Strathford was currently experiencing. Only jeans and a short-sleeved navy blue shirt. No coat, no hat. Almost as if the wintery cold didn’t faze him. His sleek black hair was slicked back out of his angular face, and while she appreciated the chiseled physique on the tall, muscular frame, it was his eyes that drew her in. Dark, tortured eyes that she swore she had seen before. And yet, she couldn’t quite place why he seemed so familiar.
“What will it be, honey?” she asked, taking the tip the couple had left her and sliding it into the pocket of her jeans. It was coated in dripped alcohol from the bar, but hey! Money was money.
The man stared at her for a moment, to the point where it was almost uncomfortable, until finally, Amara cleared her throat. “Whiskey,” he said, his voice deep and almost gravelly. She couldn’t help but find the cadence extremely sexy. “On the rocks. Make it a double, please.”
Oh, yeah, she thought. Definite sex appeal. Too bad most men found her wolf paranoia to be a turn off. She poured his drink and set it on the bar in front of him. “There you go, handsome.”
He watched her for a moment, as if he was deciding something. Then his lips curved in the echo of a grin. “Why don’t you have one for yourself?” he offered. “It’s on me.”
Interesting. “Don’t mind if I do. Thanks.” She held a shot of whiskey up, tapping her glass to his. She smiled. “Cheers.” Then she threw it back.
Chapter 5
Nova watched her while she worked, inexplicably drawn to the grace with which she moved. She was a pro behind the bar, charming tips out of patrons, laughing easily with regulars and tourists alike. It was interesting how much of a people-person she could be at work, when he knew from his years of watching her that she had all but turned into a recluse since the attack.
She rarely had company over to her small apartment, save the weekly visits with her mom, and the occasional Chinese dinner and movie night with Mitch. Though he suspected the bar owner had feelings for Amara, he seemed to understand the only relationship she was interested in was friendship. For some reason, this pleased Nova to no end.
Not that he was interested. She was human, after all. The pack still had rules. And he still had to follow them.
The door to the bar opened, bringing with it the icy breeze of the season, and a dark-haired woman in a long fur coat. Stripping it off, she kissed Sam on the cheek and hung it on the hook behind him.
Zoe Hamilton.
Nova would have recognized her anywhere. Since the attack, she had stayed around Strathford, bringing one scandal after another to the attention of the town. From what he could tell, Zoe hadn’t walked away from the Valley Clan’s attack as unscathed as everyone wanted to believe. While it was true that she had little more than a few scars down her back, and one small one lining her chin, Nova had seen firsthand the toll the attack had taken on her. It was rare to find Zoe without a drink in her hand or alcohol on her breath. He had frequently witnessed Amara haul her out to her car to take her home after a heavy night of drinking at Murphy’s. And it was common knowledge that Zoe Hamilton went through men the way other women went through socks.
Not that he was surprised. Zoe was a knockout. Her long, dark hair and makeup were always pristine, her fit and toned body proudly on display. Looks, however, were unable to hide the fact that she was an emotional wreck.
Nova chuckled to himself as he watched her saunter across the bar in her skin-tight jeans and climb up on a stool, flashing Mitch her signature sexy smile. Mitch nearly dropped the bottle he held as she leaned forward in her low-cut shirt, showcasing her voluptuous rack. Nova couldn’t stop the grin from creeping across his face.
Amara followed his gaze. “Classy, huh?” she scoffed, filling a mug with beer. She turned the cup with an expert hand, keeping the foam to a minimum, and slid it down the bar to Ole. “I keep telling Mitch that one’s only going to end badly, but he refuses to listen to me.”
Nova raised a brow. “You don’t approve?”
“It’s not that,” she said, pursing her lips. “I just think Zoe is, well, Zoe. She’s a mess. And Mitchell could do so much better.” Stopping, she thought about it for a moment. “Okay, so maybe it is that.”
“Sounds like you’re jealous.”
“Hardly,” she replied with a laugh. “Another?” He nodded, taking the shot she handed him.
Nova knew he was pushing his luck, being this close to her, but he couldn’t help it. After ten years, he could still see her lying there on the pavement, blood gushing from her neck. He had hoped that after he made sure she was safe that he would be able to leave her alone, yet he had found himself drawn to her over the years. His visits to her home had become more and more frequent, even though he tried telling himself he was just keeping her safe. He even found himself thinking about her when he was out on patrol. Or in a Council Meeting with his pack.
He kept trying to tell himself that if he could just see her in person, talk to her as himself, that he could get over his infatuation with her. So far, no such luck.
“So, Cowboy,” she asked, leaning against the bar, “do you have a name to go with that grin? Or are you the strong silent type who’s just going to sit and stare at me?”
“Well, it’s working so well for me,” he said, tapping his fingers slowly on the bar, “why mess with success?” Her laugh was loud and boisterous, and he couldn’t help but want to hear it again. Snickering to himself, he held out a hand. “My name is Nova.”
Taking his
outstretched hand, she shook it. “Amara. Have you been in town long?”
“I live a few miles out of Strathford, on my family’s estate.” Sort of.
The door opened again, and Nova’s blood froze in his veins. The man who walked in was tall, and broad shouldered. His hair was a rich, chestnut brown against his deeply tanned skin. He had an angular face with a sharp brow and tawny eyes. Snow dotted the shoulders of his leather jacket, his grin was fierce and cruel when he spotted Nova.
Kal.
Nova’s expression turned hard and stony as he watched the heir to the Valley Clan weave his way through the tables. Anger rose to the surface, and Nova clenched his fist. What the hell was Kal doing there? He shouldn’t even be in town, much less in this bar.
Kal leered at Nova as he sat down next to him. “Didn’t think you’d bother showing your face, Lowery,” he said, snaking Nova’s shot and downing it. Without a word, Amara filled another and handed it to Nova. The look on her face was carefully blank.
“It’s my town, Vann, in case you don’t remember. The border is twenty miles in the other direction.” Nova’s smile at Amara was quick and charming, but he knew it didn’t reach his eyes. He wondered if she noticed. “You know, in case you wanted to get the hell over it.”
Kal chuckled to himself for a moment, his shrewd gaze not missing a thing. He lowered his voice. “You sure watch this one a lot,” he murmured, barely nodding his head at the bartender. Luckily, she was serving a patron a few feet away. “Why is that, I wonder.”
Nova’s demeanor went hard as stone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But he couldn’t help the way his gaze darted to her face and back again. It was just for a split second, but it was enough.
Grinning, Kal leaned forward, keeping his voice near a whisper. “Oh, I think you do. I think you’ve had a thing for this pretty little bartender for a while now. The only question now is, why?” He raised a brow. “I mean, she is attractive I guess. For a human. Dark hair, tiny frame, tight body. Ripe little prize for any man to win, I suppose. But a mate? My, my. What would your brother think? He is your Alpha now, is he not? Now that Daddy’s gone. Do you think he would approve of you fraternizing with the sheep you watch?”
Closing his eyes, Kal sniffed the air as Amara walked by. “She does smell am—“ His voice trailed off as his eyes opened wide, and he gaped at Nova. “No. She isn’t.” Catching the flash of fear from his adversary, Kal rubbed his hands together, glee lighting his face. “Well aren’t you just an old hound? She isn’t just some girl, is she? She’s the girl. The one that got away from both of us.” He sniffed again. “Mmm, and Lowery, does she smell delicious or what? Tell me you’re getting some action from her.”
Nova sat on the stool, as still as he could, willing himself to stay calm as his heart began to race and his blood boiled. The only outward sign that Kal Vann’s words had even gotten to him was his hands clenching into fists at his sides.
Kal noticed.
He chuckled. “You’re not. Well, that’s your loss, Lowery. Do you mind if I do?” Kal patted Nova on the shoulder. It took everything he had for Nova not to break his hand at the joint. “Once I get her home, I think I’d like to tear into that sweet skin again. You know. Finish what I started.”
Nova snapped. Before he could think about it or tell himself no, Nova was off the stool, sending it crashing to the ground behind him. He had Kal thrown against the bar, his forearm pressed against the other man’s throat. One clawed hand sank through shirt and skin like it was nothing as he tore into the fleshy part of Kal’s stomach, feeling the skin begin to knit back together as his body began to shift around Nova’s paw.
“Don’t you touch her,” Nova growled through gritted teeth, so low he was sure no one else could hear him. Kal merely grinned, though his face was tight with pain. “I’m not fucking kidding, Vann.” His voice held as much power as it did warning. “Stay away from her.”
“Hey!” From down the bar, Mitch was heading their way.
Nova retracted his claws before anybody could see. No point scaring anyone into thinking he was the real-life Wolverine.
Kal scrambled out from under him, a mixture of hate and fear writhing on his face. “This isn’t over, Lowery,” he snarled, backing away toward the door. Nova wasn’t sure which one he’d hurt more: Kal’s abs or his pride. By the door, the big bouncer stood up, ready to stop another incident before it started. Kal shrugged off the man’s hand as he attempted to pull him through the door and out of the bar. “You better watch your back, Nova. I always finish what I start.” Nova followed his gaze to Amara, trepidation dripping down his spine. Kal smirked. “That’s a promise.” Then he disappeared out the door.
Chapter 6
Amara stood, frozen behind the bar, as the man walked out. She hadn’t liked him from the moment he walked in, as handsome as he may be, though she couldn’t quite pinpoint why. There was just something…skeevy about the man; maybe even something familiar. She shivered.
Nova bent down and picked up the stool. He cast her an apologetic glance. “Sorry about that,” he said quietly, his voice rough and thick. Whatever had just happened, it was clear he wasn’t quite through it yet.
She handed Nova a glass of water, satisfied when he took a large gulp. “I thought you might need to cool down, handsome. That looked like it got pretty heated.” Nova just nodded.
From across the room, Amara spotted her boss headed their way. He looked irate.
“What the hell was that, man?” Mitch exclaimed, storming over to Nova. Amara suppressed a groan. Mitch had a way of blowing everything out of proportion. Sure, the policy was no fighting in the bar, but it hadn’t really been much of a fight. More like Nova was putting the other guy in his place. “You can’t pick a fight like that in my bar!” Mitch’s face was red as an apple. He glared at Nova. “You need to leave.”
“Mitchell,” Amara protested, crossing her arms over her chest.
He just shook his head. “Now.”
Irritated, she rolled her eyes.
“That’s okay, Amara,” Nova said, completely calm. He set a handful of bills on the bar. Even with just a cursory glance, she could tell he had left her a substantial tip. Points for him.
Nova stuck out his hand to Mitch in apology. “Sorry, man. There’s bad blood between me and Kal, always has been. He just tends to get under my skin. But you’re right. I never should have let him get to me here. This is your bar. I meant no disrespect.”
Surprised, Mitch regarded him with caution before taking Nova’s hand. “Fine,” he said grudgingly. “I won’t ban you from the bar entirely. But for tonight…”
Nova held up his hands in surrender. Looked like he wasn’t even going to argue. “Understood.” He glanced at Amara. A slow, easy grin crept across his face. Almost like a cat that had just spotted its prey. His dark eyes flashed with amusement. “It was nice meeting you, Amara,” he said, and there was so much heat in his stare that she wasn’t surprised to feel herself blush. “It truly was the highlight of my night. I hope to see you again soon.”
She could feel Mitch’s pointed stare, she knew he was judging her, expecting her to shrug off Nova’s advances. She refused to look at her friend. She didn’t need his disapproval now. What did he know anyway? Instead, she busied her hands by grabbing a towel and wiping off glasses, grateful that the dishwasher had just finished so she would have something to do. The situation was getting more awkward by the second. Amara smiled at Nova, aware that Mitchell was seething. She would deal with him later. There was a good-looking man standing in front of her now. “You, too. You come back and see me now, handsome. Maybe I’ll even let you buy me another drink.” She winked at him.
Amara let Nova’s rich laughter wash over her as he made his way out the door. Switching to a wet rag, she began to wipe down the bar. Thank goodness it was almost closing. It had been a strange night, and she was exhausted.
“Seriously, Mara?” Mitch demanded, glaring at her. She
hadn’t seen him that angry in quite a while. “That guy?”
“Why not that guy?” Zoe asked, sidling up alongside Mitch. She slid her hand up and down his arm, letting her fingers play over his skin. Amara suppress a shudder. Zoe wasn’t exactly the type of girl you encouraged your best friend to go out with. Not anymore. “He was hot. Besides, I don’t know what you’re worried about. Amara doesn’t have a chance in hell, anyway.” The smile Zoe gave her was cold and cruel. It was like she enjoyed being mean. Who knows? Maybe it made her feel better about herself.
Always the same with Zoe, Amara thought, grinding her teeth together. Even her good mood was beginning to sour. She comes in, gets drunk, and hits on whatever guy she has her sights on at the time. It had been that way since the attack, she recalled. Becca had devoted herself to her faith, and was probably the most well-adjusted of the three of them; which was ironic, since she’d been hurt the most. Amara had thrown herself into self-defense, refusing to ever be a victim again, but Zoe had thrown herself at men and alcohol. After a while, the two of them had grown apart. Amara still poured Zoe into bed when she’d had too much to drink, but they never mentioned it, and she did her best to keep it from getting the best of her.
Until now.
Looks like this week is Mitch, the poor bastard. She shows the entire town just how easy she is, how she has absolutely no self-respect, then plays it off as if I’m the one who’s undesirable? Ugh. I’ve had enough.
“You know, Mitchell, you’ve got a lot of nerve, lecturing me about my love interests—or even just the people I’m attracted to—while you have Zoe Hamilton hanging off your arm.” Grabbing her purse, Amara made her way out from behind the bar. “I mean, come on. I know you’re into recycling, but don’t you think this is rather much? There’s only so much use a girl can take before the wear and tear starts to show.” She knew she was being a bitch, but seeing Zoe with Mitch grated on her nerves too much for her to care.
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