“Yeah, Joey. Go play with your friends. I have a business to run.” Waving him away with my rag, he relented. I dropped the rag, knowing it was finally time to deal with whatever was going on with my phone. Everyone knew not to call me during business hours, so it must have been important, something I needed to know immediately or the moment I had a break. I never got calls like that.
I grabbed it from my cubby behind the bar and frowned at the name on the screen. Two missed calls and three texts. Fantastic.
None were Hasan, something that surprised me. Instead, both calls and all the texts were from Jabari, his oldest son and right hand. Jabari was also one of two biological children Hasan had. The rest of the brood were all turned, just like me.
Why is dear older brother calling me?
I was almost scared to unlock my phone and check. It took a moment, but I mustered up the courage. I didn’t have time to listen to my voicemail, but the texts made up for whatever I was missing there.
Jabari: We’ve gotten reports of two dead werecats in the PNW. Hasan is having me tell everyone to keep their heads down.
Jabari: Stay safe, watch your back.
Jabari: Let me know when you’ve gotten this.
I started typing quickly and deleted it just as quickly. What did I say to that? Two dead werecats across the country from me didn’t really pose quite the threat that a werewolf war on my doorstep did.
I continued to think, a sinking realization about what Hasan and Jabari were thinking. They were old cats from before recorded history and had survived a devastating war with the werewolves.
I started typing again, frowning. The sinking feeling didn’t stop. I ignored it as best as I could, trying to carefully word my reply.
“Good evening, Jacky,” someone said from the other side of the bar. I jumped back, then cursed as I saw who it was, my heart pounding. Heath lowered his eyebrows in concern. If he were a human, he would have gotten a laugh because men liked to laugh at women when they got spooked, but we both knew what had just happened was concerning. “I spooked you,” he pointed out immediately in a soft voice like he was trying not to draw more attention to us.
“I was a little distracted.” I waved my phone at him, hoping he would dismiss the entire thing. “Let me finish what I was doing, then I’ll get you a beer.”
“What could have distracted—”
“Don’t worry about it.” I finished my text without care and hit send before shoving the phone into my pocket. “Nothing that concerns you.” The sinking feeling wouldn’t leave. It dampened a little, but it wouldn’t leave.
“Okay.” He seemingly dropped it just like that.
I busied myself pouring him the promised beer and slid it across the bar. It was faster than I normally slid glasses across the bar, and for a moment, I worried it would go over the edge. He grabbed it before that happened, too fast for the natural human eye to see—the very behavior supernaturals tried to avoid in front of humans. He didn’t make a comment about it.
“You look good tonight.”
I looked down at what I was wearing then leveled him with a flat stare. I had on an old black t-shirt, jeans torn at the knees, and dirty steel-toed boots. I didn’t wear makeup and was certain I had done nothing with my hair that would warrant any compliments. It was in a ponytail, with pieces falling out everywhere, especially over my face. It hadn’t been the best of days before the texts from Jabari. I barely got any sleep before opening, which had started the day off on the wrong foot.
He kept an innocent expression on his face as if his statement wasn’t completely out of left field.
“Don’t try flattery,” I finally said pointedly. “It won’t get you the information you want.”
“Who says I’m looking for information?” he countered, raising an eyebrow, matching the one I liked to give people.
“The look on your face.” Shaking my head, I grabbed an empty glass and served myself a drink—water. I didn’t drink while I worked. Leaning on the bar, I eyed him warily. “What do you need tonight, other than being in my business?”
“I came for my customary Saturday night drink,” he replied, his bland innocence refusing to abate and show me what he was