He looked up and down the run-down hallway before locking the door and walking away. He lived at one end of the hall, and Patch lived at the other end. Nobody else had a reason to be upstairs.
He clomped down the creaking, wooden stairs and opened the door to let himself into the barroom. The door that led upstairs was on the far side of the room from the bar itself, and tucked away into a little alcove that housed mops, brooms, a couple of buckets and some cleaning solutions. Lazarus paused and locked the door that led to the stairs as well. He knew Patch was aware he was coming down. He’d intentionally made a lot of noise so he’d be heard. He’d always believed it was to his benefit to keep certain abilities to himself — like being able to move silently, like the phenomenal hearing and scenting that being a shifter afforded him, like the fact he could detect a lie simply by the scent of the person telling it, and of course his strength and the fact his human body housed a sometimes feral Panther.
Walking toward the bar, he called out. “Direct me.”
Patch was squatting down behind the bar as he cleaned the bar and prepared to open their doors.
“Still needs to be swept and mopped,” Patch said. “Candy’s late, naturally. And I’m restocking the bar now.”
“That girl ever do anything but hang around and hit on the customers?” Laz asked as he turned and walked back toward the alcove and door leading upstairs, to retrieve the push broom.
Patch chuckled. “Occasionally. Can’t fire her, though.”
“Why’s that?”
“My sister’s kid. Worthless pretty much, but, she’s the only family I got left. Promised my sister I’d keep an eye on her. Wild ass kid — keeping an eye on her is about the best anybody can do. Can’t make her do a damn thing, and taking anybody’s advice is like a fucking punishment to her.”
“You ever try whipping her ass?” Lazarus asked. “Over your knee, I mean. Not like I’d whip a man’s ass.”
“I knew what you meant. Considered it, but she’s grown. What good would it do?” Patch answered as he lifted a large plastic container of ice and dumped it into the stainless ice bin set into the bar.
“You’d be surprised,” Lazarus answered.
“Who knows? Maybe someday some man will strike her fancy enough she’d pay attention when he puts her in her place,” Patch said. “Maybe it’ll be you!” he said, chuckling.
“Aw, no. Aw, hell no!” Lazarus objected.
“I do not need my ass beat, and you couldn’t be so lucky to have me even give you the time of day,” Candy snapped, walking out of the kitchen.
“Ahhh, the princess arrives,” Lazarus snarked.
“I’m not a princess. I hold my own and work for my living,” Candy answered.
“When? And where would you be doing that? I’d like to see it,” Patch said.
Candy spun around and pinned Patch with a glare. “You’d think as my uncle, you wouldn’t be encouraging somebody you just met to beat me!” she said passionately.
“He’s not gonna beat you, just whip your ass like an unruly child,” Patch said. “Somebody’s gotta find a way to get some sense into your ass.”
“You might find you like it,” Lazarus said. “Had more than a few females try to follow me across the country after I gifted them a case of the red ass. From my hand I mean, not from being angry,” he said. Then he stopped sweeping and leaned on the broom handle while he thought about it. “Come to think of it, they may have been angry. They weren’t the only ones that just couldn’t let it go once they got a little taste of old Laz.”
“You just keep your bragging to yourself. You lost your chance yesterday. I only give one opportunity — you don’t take me up on it, you lose,” Candy said haughtily.
“Oh honey, I was definitely bragging, but I wasn’t offering. I’m still not interested — at all,” Lazarus said, returning to his sweeping.
Candy slammed down the napkin holders she was filling and went stomping back into the kitchen.
Patch laughed. “Man, if you could see the sparks flying between the two of you…”
“She’s alright,” Lazarus said. “Got some growing up to do, but she’s strong, she’ll be fine. But like I said, it won’t be with me.”
“You got a woman waiting on you somewhere?” Patch asked.
Lazarus swept the dirt and dust he’d piled up out of the front door, then turned