register. Well, what I thought had been a shadow was in fact the world’s poofiest gray cat.
I reached once more, but the dark gray paw swiped again, jangling the keys so loud, I was afraid rude counter chick would hear.
“I’m just borrowing the keys for a few minutes,” I told the cat, feeling ridiculous, but when I reached again, the creature only hissed and glared at me.
The girl didn’t even glance up from her book when I returned with pink hair, a pair of tight jeans, V-neck shirt, and cowboy boots.
“Here you go,” I whispered to the cat. The little devil watched with menace clearly reflected in her glare as I hung the key behind the counter and left.
In a ten-minute walk around the streets of Grayhaven, I discovered dozens of two-story Victorians and not a single hotel. It didn’t take me long to find the only other open business in town. The bar took up the first story in a not-quite-refurbished large clocktower in the center of a small downtown area. There was no name on the peeling exterior walls, only an open door and a crowd inside. The group within the walls were an odd mix of everything from road weary bikers to women in flowing bohemian gowns with flower crowns on their heads. At one end of the bar, I even saw a man in a tweed jacket smoking a pipe.
A live band played an old Rockknot cover that I used to listen to back in high school, but the crowd before the band clearly had no clue how to dance to grunge music. One lady twirled her arms around trailing scarves while another dancer did some sort of jig. When I dropped my bag and climbed up on a bar stool, at least three sets of eyes narrowed in on me, and I could feel the attention itching across my skin.
Every set of eyes was a potential informant.
A bartender looked up from where he was cleaning a glass behind the bar with a dishtowel, and his dark eyes met mine. He looked young, maybe early twenties, and he had a nerdy sexy look about his face.
“What are you having?” he called across the bar with a smile that was just this side of flirty.
Attraction bubbled up in me, but I quickly stuck a pin in it. This guy might look five years younger, but I was likely a good fifteen years older. Meaning, I could technically be his teen mother. Also, it felt plain disingenuous to flirt with a human. Werewolves slept with humans all the time, but revealing our true nature to them went against every supernatural law ever written and just plain brainless unless you wanted to end up dead or locked away in a secret government lab.
I’d taken too long to answer, and the sexy bartender set his hands on the bar and raised a dark brow. His teasing look was definitely flirty now. “Are you just going to stare at me, or did you want something?”
“I do want something.” I leaned onto the worn-down wood and called over, “A job.” I punctuated the words with a smile. “If you have any in stock.”
“You don’t waste any time.” His brows shot up over his thinly rimmed glasses. “You look like you barely stepped off the bus.”
Shock hit me, and I leaned back on my barstool. “How do you know I came in on the bus?”
“Lucky guess.” He poured an amber liquid into a cup and set it in front of me.
“That’s quite a guess,” I said as I took my beer.
“All right, you’re carrying your possessions, so you didn’t come in by car. Your bag is too big for a motorcycle and too clean for a long-distance hiker. And, Western Bus Lines tagged your luggage.” He nodded to the large white tag hanging off my bag.
“Oh, shit. Sorry.” I grimaced before taking a sip of the amber liquid.
“Relax, stay awhile. I can take your bag behind the counter if you want. There are more professional thieves per capita in Grayhaven than in any other city in the world.” He opened his arms, and even though I didn’t want to be parted from my gun, the chances of it being stolen were much higher on this side of the bar.
The moment I passed it over, I felt ten times more vulnerable in my seat, as if I’d passed over invisible armor along with all my earthly possessions.
Taking a small sip of my beer, I