“You sureit’s all right if I leave early?” Natasha asked.
Jono looked up from wiping down the bar counter where their only customer of the night had sat before leaving. He gestured pointedly at the empty bar; even the event room downstairs was quiet to his ears beneath the music.
“Not like we have much of a crowd, and if you have finals to study for, I don’t mind letting you go,” Jono said.
Natasha’s shoulders eased up a little. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
A werelynx, Natasha wasn’t part of Emma’s pack, though Emma had argued for her right to stay employed at Tempest through at least the end of the semester. Looking for a new job while juggling university would’ve been too stressful. Estelle and Youssef had eventually agreed, needing to at least appear like they cared about the packs they were supposed to protect.
Natasha retreated to the small back office to gather her things and clock out. She waved to Jono as she left, heading into a night that smelled more damp than usual. Jono took a deep breath as the swinging door blew a gust of air into the bar. He frowned, rubbing at his nose.
It smelled like snow.
Shaking his head, Jono started putting things to rights behind the counter, needing to keep busy. The bar being so empty was depressing, but there wasn’t anything he could do about that. Sunday nights were always slow, but they’d become slower since werecreatures had been ordered to give Tempest a wide berth.
Considering who Jono was meeting for the first time tonight, maybe slow was better. Being introduced to Patrick’s former commanding officer in a loud crowd would’ve made focusing on the bloke difficult when Jono needed to work. It wouldn’t matter that Emma, Leon, and Marek would also be joining them and had given him the okay to take an extra-long break. Jono took pride in doing his job and not slacking off.
Jono’s mobile buzzed in his back pocket as he took inventory of some of the bottles on the shelves. He pulled it out, seeing a notification for a text message from Patrick. He unlocked his mobile in order to read it.
On the way. It’s snowing. Not normal.
Jono frowned at that warning, glancing over at the closed door again. It hadn’t even been raining when he opened the bar a couple of hours ago.
Jono texted back a response.What do you mean by not normal?
We think it’s magically created.
Jono grimaced. “Brilliant.”
He was about to text back when the door to the bar was pushed open and a stunningly beautiful woman stepped inside. Jono straightened up, nostrils flaring as he took in her scent—something almost rancid that seemed out of place with her appearance.
In the back of his mind, Fenrir stirred.
Jono took that warning for what it was.
The woman unwrapped her scarf from around her neck, a bit of snow falling off her shoulders as she did so. “Getting cold out there.”
Her Irish accent was familiar enough to Jono’s ears, and it made him think wistfully of the city he’d left behind. New York City had the same sort of madcap bustle, just not quite the same mix of accents he’d lived amongst in London for most of his life. Jono put his mobile back in his pocket and gave her a friendly enough smile.
“So I hear. What can I get you?”
Shrugging out of her coat, the woman came over to the bar and slung her things over an empty stool before taking a seat. She was gorgeous in a model kind of way: tall, thin, fashionably dressed, with brilliant blue eyes and thick blonde hair tied back in a trendy braid. Her clothes were fashion forward and not office wear, the silk blouse she wore too thin for the December chill.
She had all the appearance of a hip New Yorker, but Jono didn’t trust her for a second.
“Slow night?” the woman asked.
“Is it just you?” Jono wanted to know, figuring the answer to her question was obvious in the empty bar.
She smiled at him, the rose pink of her mouth parting around even white teeth. “Just me. Saw you were open and thought I’d get a drink to warm me up before I venture home in the snow.”
“How bad is it out there?”
“Oh, just little flurries right now, but I think it might get worse.” She tilted her head, looking up at him through her long eyelashes. “You won’t close early, will you?”
Flirting came with the job, but Jono preferred when it didn’t come from some creature playing at being human. Besides, the only person he was interested in for the rest of his life was shorter than her, a ginger, and constantly getting into fights.
“Nah, love. We don’t close for a bit of snow. What can I get you?”
