She saw it then, the deep lines of worry in her brother’s face. He wasn’t enjoying this, and he’d be risking his life while she was away. With a deep sigh, she nodded her agreement. She’d do this…for the good of the pack. He opened his arms, and she accepted his embrace.
* * *
Two weeks later,Laina didn’t have time to waste worrying about her role as princess or temporary alpha. As a bartender at Monty’s,an ancient, wood-paneled lodge that reeked of ogres and human sweat, she didn’t have the luxury of thinking about much more than the next drink or the next customer. Although occasionally, like now, her mind drifted back to her old life and her days seeing patients at Four Paws, it never lasted long.
“Anna! Earth to Anna!” Jeff waved a hand in front of her face. Who was Anna?Oh, Laina thought,I’m Anna. Anna Whitehall. Her new identity.
The memory of her old life faded slowly like air from a pinpricked balloon. Jeff, a sun-weathered construction worker who spent too much time on a barstool, waved his hand again. “Can I get another?”
Laina tightened her ponytail and forced a smile. “Sorry. Guess I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”
He grinned. “Someone keeping you up, babe? Who’s the lucky guy?”
“No. Nothing like that,” she said bitterly. It was impossible for her to talk about her current situation without sounding bitchy and resentful. “You want another amber ale?”
“Must not be worthy. If you’re going to spend the day asleep on your feet, there should be a damn good reason, a reason to brag about.” He lowered his chin and bobbed his eyebrows twice.
Laina dug his beer from the refrigerated bin and popped off the cap, skimming it across the bar into Jeff’s waiting hands. The scrape of glass against polished wood reminded her she’d forgotten to turn the music on when she opened that afternoon. It was too quiet.
“You should try me on for size.” Jeff shot her a flirty smirk. He was nothing if not persistent.
“I wouldn’t be able to handle your mad skills,” she said flatly.
He erupted into laughter and raised the bottle. “Damn straight!”
Laina added the drink to his tab, then turned her back on him, fussing with the bottles lined up along the shelves for longer than necessary in an effort to kill any chance he might try to reengage in conversation. Eventually, Jeff became bored and wandered to his preferred seat near the window, where he made a habit of watching the Sable Creek Savings and Loan in hopes of catching a glimpse of the young teller he fancied. She slid back into the groove when a biker at the end of the bar cleared his throat and raised two fingers to order a rum and Coke and a slice of apple pie.
Uncle Monty’s lodge was the only restaurant and bar in Sable Creek, which wasn’t surprising. The town was barely large enough to support a grocery store, let alone a restaurant. But Laina had learned the town’s traffic far exceeded its population for a few key reasons. It was conveniently located off a major thoroughfare between Chicago and Minneapolis. Truckers flocked to Monty’s like flies to honey, mostly for the pie, which was enchanted by a local fairy to be mildly addictive. The place was legendary among biker gangs for the same reason.
Monty’s also bordered some of the best private hunting grounds in Wisconsin. As an ogre, Uncle Monty was unconcerned with licenses, endangered species, or hunting seasons. Hunters came from far and wide and frequented the area year-round, for a price. There were rumors he’d stocked big game on his grounds—buffalo and mountain lion.
And then there was the enchanted safe zone and lodge for supernaturals. Laina was as likely to see a vampire lying low after a particularly messy feed as she was to see a human construction worker like Jeff, one of the rare townies who frequented the place.
Laina sniffed the air as the stench of ogre grew stronger, not surprised at all when Monty’s head appeared in the service window to the kitchen.
“Where’s your brother?” The ogre’s gritty baritone had the sandpaper feel of plunging her ear into a litter box. Ogres could pass as humans—hulking, unhygienic humans with bad teeth. Monty was no exception. At six foot four and over 300 pounds of portly flesh, he dwarfed Laina. So did his smell, which was as overpowering as his presence. Still, there was nothing overtly supernatural about him, and if she hadn’t known better, she’d have assumed he was an ordinary man. His heavily hooded eyes gave her the impression he was perpetually skeptical, and perhaps he was. Ogres were the loan sharks of the supernatural world. Thanks to notoriously harsh business dealings, they were hated by many and wished dead by more than a few.
“Late,” Laina answered. No point in lying. Jason, new identity Jay Whitehall, was hardly discreet about his escapades. “He didn’t come home last night.” The wordhomestuck in her throat like a dry piece of gristle. The apartment above the bar that Monty had loaned them was an ancient relic that could barely be called shelter, let alone home. She’d spent all of her free time cleaning the place, and still, walking through the front door was the most depressing part of her day.
“Your brother has a penchant for the ladies.”
“You could say that.”
“That place you’re stayin’ in ain’t free. One of you will have to make up his hours, or I’m going to need more cash.”
Cash was one thing Laina had plenty of. The society had made sure of that. But anyone with half a brain knew it was folly to admit to an ogre you had money. She’d locked the cash in a fireproof case and secured it to the underside of her bed, intending to use it to pay off any unforeseen expenses that might crop up. Monty was notorious for accruing undisclosed charges in the amount he thought his victims were capable of repaying. Until she moved on from this purgatory, her apparent poverty was her best weapon for limiting her liability.
“I’ll work a double,” she said. She made herself busy, hoping he’d drop the subject and leave. Instead, he hovered as she filled the bar sink with scalding hot water and poured in the sanitizing chemical necessary to wash the barware.
Monty growled. “That’s too much, Anna! What am I made of? Money?”
It wasn’t too much. She’d used exactly the amount prescribed on the back of the bottle. Any less and it was impossible to get the lip prints off the glasses. Monty knew that but didn’t care. He’d never met a germ he didn’t like. “Bottle got away from me.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Monty scribble himself a note, no doubt charging her for the extra cleaning product. “Don’t let it happen again.”
ChapterEight
“You can’t keep missing work, Jason. I’m not covering your shift next time.” Laina kneed her sleeping brother in the ribs, knocking the sofa bed he was lying on hard enough to give his body a creaking, spring-loaded bounce.
