5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Zan

He was in hell.

It was nearly impossible to share the small space behind the bar with Rissa and not touch her. His inner mountain lion was desperate to rub against her and cover her in their scent. His human side wanted to hug and nuzzle her. He could feel Anatoly’s desire through their soul link and was desperate to drag her upstairs and push her into bed with the vampire so the moment the sun went down, they could start having naked fun times.

Right now, he was staring at her ass as she leaned over to stock one of the small fridges. He should look away. If she caught him admiring her butt, she might get annoyed and leave.

His eyes were trapped.

“Is it like this every night?”

Her question helped him force his gaze to the front door. “No. Wednesdays are usually the busiest.”

“Wednesday?” she asked. “Do you offer some kind of deal or special?”

“Never,” he said with a dramatic flair, making her chuckle. “My drinks are too perfect to discount.”

“We’re going to pretend you don’t give half of them away for free,” she said dryly. “I’m still curious about Wednesday though.”

“There’s a sl–uh, group of friends that show up every Wednesday and they take up almost every seat.”

Damn, he’d almost said slither! He needed to be more careful, or she might think he wasn’t entirely sane. As a mountain lion, he didn’t congregate in formal groups and never understood why wolves and nagas felt the need to create packs and slithers. Hanging out with others was nice, but who wanted to be obligated to do group activities? Not this cat!

Still, it could be fun to be invited to their parties. No one partied as hard as wolf packs!

“With so many people arriving, I think now is the time for me to show you my bar bible,” he said, forcing his expression to be serious.

“Bar bible?”

He pulled out the beaten-up notebook he kept hidden behind the bar. Holding it up, he said some fake Latin. “That means holy is the drink that giveth joy to all.”

She pursed her lips, obviously trying hard not to smile. “Sure it does. What’s in this bar bible?”

“Only the most sacred of recipes,” Zan explained, setting it on the bar top and opening it up. “When I create signature cocktails for my customers, I put the recipe in here. See, this is Cora. She likes it sweet and with lots of decoration. Here is Jennifer’s cocktail. Notice the dash of red wine. It’s not much, but she’ll notice if it’s missing.”

Rissa flipped a few pages with a frown. “Is there any kind of order going on here?”

“Of course there is,” he said. “The recipes are in the order of when I created them.”

Rissa snorted. “Great, so I’ll need to ask people what they first ordered, and I’ll be able to figure out where they are in this tome?”

“You must study the bar bible, my disciple,” Zan said.

Rissa mumbled something about fixing his organization system when his phone chirped. Pulling it out of his back pocket, he saw a text from Titan.

Will has a bunch of veggies he’s willing to donate to the rescue. Can he leave them with you, and I’ll pick them up later tonight?

Sure. What time will you be by to pick them up?

I’m not sure. I got a call on a stray dog, and it might take me a while to catch it. Then I’ll come straight to you.

Okay. I’ve got a human working for me. She doesn’t know yet. Don’t say anything.

The only response he got from Titan was a shocked face emoji. Putting the phone back, he noticed Rissa watching him.

“Will is going to drop a bunch of food off for donation and a friend is going to pick it up,” he explained. “The Pack House is a breakfast and lunch place, so they’re closed right now and cleaning up. Titan can’t get there in time before they leave for the day.”

“Titan, interesting name,” she said.

“You’ll understand when you see him. The guy is massive,” he explained. “He’s also the gentlest soul you’ll ever meet. He’s even a vegetarian because he can’t stand the thought of anything having to die to feed him.”

He wished he could tell her how odd it was for a wolf shifter to be a vegetarian so she could truly understand how unique Titan was.

“Is the food for a food kitchen?” she asked.

Zan shook his head. “For his rescue.”

“He works at a rescue?”

“He doesn’t just work there, it’s his rescue. It’s his entire world. He’s got a few dogs, cats, chickens, a donkey, three horses, and a goat that live with him permanently, along with all the animals he has for adoption. He also rehabs some species of wildlife, like squirrels and opossums.”

She tilted her head. “Opossum? You mentioned that last night.”

He chuckled. “That’s why I wasn’t behind the bar when you came in last night. A friend found an opossum in a crawl space but couldn’t get to her, and Titan had a sick goat he couldn’t leave alone. I pulled the opossum out and took her and her babies to Titan.”

“Really? I don’t think I’ve ever seen an opossum in real life,” she said.

“They’re cute.” He pulled out his phone to show her pictures. “This is Mama and babies.”

“Oh fuck, they’re adorable!” she cooed.

“I thought they were ugly until I met one in person,” he said. “Then I saw how sweet she was. Even scared and hurt, she didn’t try to bite me. She only wanted to be left alone and care for her babies.”

“What was wrong with her?”

“Infected wound on her rump,” he said. “Titan said she’d be fine in a few weeks, and he had the perfect enclosure for her recovery.”

The door opened, making both of them turn to see another customer walk in. “Hi Ally,” he called, recognizing the pixie. “You want your usual?”

“Yes, please,” she said, casting Rissa a curious look.

“This is Rissa, she’s new,” he explained.

“Hello, Rissa,” Ally chirped, then headed to her favorite spot.

He flipped through the book until he found Ally’s drink. “I’m going to let you mix this one.”

Her brows furrowed as she read. “Three shots of honey liqueur? That can’t be right.”

He was forced to press in close to see where she was pointing. Grinding his teeth, he tried to ignore her soft body. “That’s correct.”

“That’s a lot of honey liqueur,” she noted.

He didn’t point out that Ally would probably have four of the drinks before the evening was over. Even though they were often small and delicate looking, pixies could handle massive amounts of alcohol without being affected. They had some of the highest tolerances he’d ever seen, and it was fun to watch a pixie drink someone twice their size under the table.

“Don’t worry, she can handle it,” he said as she started mixing.

Will and his mate Jesse walked in loaded down with bags of food.

“Put them in the office,” Zan said, waving Will and Jesse to the back.

Will nodded his head to one of his bags. “This one needs to be refrigerated.”

“Cram it in the fridge in there as best you can,” Zan said with a shrug. “Titan’s donkey won’t care if some carrots get squished.”

“I don’t know. Earl Gray is a picky donkey,” Jesse said with a grin as he headed for the office, followed closely by Will.

“Earl Gray?” Rissa asked as she put the finishing touches on the drink. “That’s a weird name for a donkey.”

“He’s gray, and he thinks he’s royalty, it works,” Zan said with a laugh.

More familiar faces walked in and stopped just inside, all staring at Rissa with surprised expressions. Any of the shifters could smell she was fully human without a whiff of the magic that she’d have when she shared souls with Anatoly. She didn’t even smell like him or Anatoly because they hadn’t had a chance to rub their scents on her.

It was then that Zan realized how much dancing he was going to need to do to keep anyone from saying something that would make Rissa suspicious. They needed time for her to trust them before revealing their world to her.

“I’ll see what they want to order,” he said. “Could you see if Will and Jesse want anything when they finish in my office?”

She nodded and waved at the guys to sit in front of her as they walked back into the main area. A pair of druids walked in, followed by a group of four coyote shifters.

He couldn’t wait for nightfall so Anatoly would be down here to help him with Rissa.

***

Anatoly

The bar was full when Anatoly entered. He’d been tempted to come down earlier, but didn’t want Rissa to see him weak. There were heavier wards on the third-floor apartment, which allowed him to move better as the day progressed, but down here in the bar, he’d stumble and might even seem drunk during the day.

Now that the sun was fully down, there was nothing keeping him from being with his cat and human.

Both Rissa and Zan were behind the bar fixing drinks. Every table was full and all the seats at the bar were occupied except for the one Zan kept empty for him.

Sliding into it, he cleared his throat. “I’d like a drink, please.”

Rissa paused in her task to smile broadly at him. Zan didn’t look up from what he was doing but grinned.

“What can I get you?” she asked.

“Zan will get it for me,” he said, realizing his mistake. She shouldn’t be handling the blood wine he drank. “Why don’t you take a break and join me?”

He moved his gaze to the gargoyle drinking a beer next to him. The gargoyle wasn’t impressed. Gargoyles were one of the only species of supernaturals that vampires couldn’t put in thrall.

“Ask nicely,” the gargoyle said.

“Heya, Mason,” Zan said, pointing to a newly empty chair. “You could move here so Rissa could be next to Anatoly.”

The gargoyle’s harsh expression gentled when he looked at the human. “Sure, Zan. No problem.” He moved his bulk away as Zan urged Rissa to take a break.

The moment she sat down next to him, Anatoly could see how tired she was. He wanted to pick her up and carry her away which felt odd because caring about a human was new territory for him. Zan was a shifter and far more robust than a human so he rarely witnessed the mountain lion as tired as Rissa appeared.

“You’re done working for the night,” Anatoly growled, casting an accusing glance at Zan. The mountain lion shrugged and went back to serving drinks.

“I’m not done,” she argued even as she rested both elbows on the bar in front of her. “My shift isn’t over.”

Then Zan was in front of them, pushing two glasses across the bar top. “Smokey and smooth for Rissa and a fresh vintage for Anatoly.”

“I probably shouldn’t drink this,” Rissa said even as she accepted the drink and chuckled. “Fresh vintage. You’re funny. I bet that’s old as fuck. Probably from some fancy French winery that supplied kings or something.”

“It’s not French, I promise,” Zan said, opening a bottle of beer and taking a long draw. “Damn, that tastes good,” he said, leaning against the bar, holding the beer loosely by the neck.

Rissa frowned at him. “We can’t all take a break at the same time.”

“Sure we can,” Zan answered. Straightening up, he addressed the patrons of Sanguine. “I’m on break for the next twenty minutes. Got it?”

“Does that mean I can serve myself?” someone asked, making a few people laugh. After the humor died down, everyone went back to their conversations.

“I guess you can do that in a place this small,” Rissa murmured, looking relieved.

There were dark marks under her eyes, and her slumped shoulders screamed her fatigue. It made him want to put her in his bed and hold her until she slept.

Zan caught his eye and shook his head. The shifter could feel his impulses, but they weren’t there yet.

“Did you grow up in San Diego?” Zan asked.

“Yes.”

When she didn’t say more Zan chuckled. “Don’t drown me in details!”

A small smile twisted her lips. “I don’t like talking about my past.”

“Why?” Anatoly asked. “Did someone hurt you? I’ll make them pay.”

“Down boy,” Rissa said, giving him a tired smile. “I just didn’t have the best childhood, and people act weird after hearing about it so I don’t talk about it.”

Anatoly felt Zan’s urge to comfort Rissa through their link. The mountain lion shifter was better at dealing with emotions and communication. Anatoly kept silent to let Zan work his magic.

Zan leaned forward a little, his eyes full of genuine kindness and sincerity. “You don’t have to tell us, but I’d be honored if you would share.”

“It was only ever Mom and I, and sometimes life was a struggle,” she said with a small shrug.

Anatoly was surprised. Humans didn’t form packs, slithers, or flocks, but families did tend to take care of each other. “You don’t have any other family?”

She took another small sip before answering. “My mom grew up with really strict parents. I only remember meeting them once. That was the day they refused to let me live with them when I was eight.”

“I’ll end them,” Anatoly growled. He felt Zan’s displeasure through their link. “Sorry, please continue.”

“I’ve felt the same,” she admitted. “I was so angry with them for a while. Now I want to be successful and rub it in their faces. Bonus points if they’re poor and sick, and I get to refuse to help them.”

“What happened to your mom that you needed to live with them?” Zan asked.

“Mom went a little wild when she was sixteen,” Rissa explained. “She never told me much, but she ended up addicted to meth, and her parents kicked her out.”

“How could parents do that to their child?” Zan asked. He’d never known anything but a loving family. Anatoly had seen enough to know it wasn’t hard for some to turn their backs on the most helpless.

“They weren’t nice people.” Rissa took another sip. Her glass was almost empty now, and Zan was quick to pour her more.

“Was she pregnant with you?” Anatoly asked. “When she was kicked out?”

“Not then,” Rissa said. “I happened a few years later. She was in and out of rehab, group homes, and foster homes until she turned eighteen. Then she was on her own. She tried to get jobs but didn’t even graduate high school. Then she became a sex worker and got pregnant with me.”

Once she’d said her mother was an addict, Anatoly expected the story to turn in that direction. “Did she give you up for adoption?”

“Never!” Rissa said, her expression proud. “Mom fought like hell to keep me. She got off the meth, applied for every program she could, and even asked her parents for help. Sometimes we had a home, and sometimes we lived in a car. She worked her ass off to take care of me.”

“She was so young, and there were so many things going against her,” Zan murmured, pouring another three fingers into Rissa’s glass. “She must’ve been an amazing woman.”

“She was,” Rissa agreed. “There was one Christmas when we ended up living in the car again, but she was determined that it would still be magical. She found a small fake Christmas tree and glued it to the dashboard. There were two wrapped presents under it when I woke up on Christmas day. She took us to eat at two different soup kitchens that were putting on big holiday meals. We ate until we were full and smuggled out enough food to last for another two days. It was the best Christmas.”

“She made something that could’ve been traumatizing into a special day,” Zan said. “That’s admirable.”

“That wasn’t the only time she did it,” Rissa said, her eyes unfocused as she looked into the past. “She’d figure out ways to celebrate my birthday or Thanksgiving. And she was at every school play and parent-teacher conference. No matter what was going on, she made sure I still went to school as best she could.”

“What happened to her?” Anatoly asked. There was only one way this story ended if Rissa kept referring to the woman in the past tense.

“She OD-ed,” Rissa said, then was quick to explain. “When I was eight, I got sick. It was bad, and I ended up in the hospital for a week. The hospital called social services, and they took me away. She lost it. She thought she’d never see me again, so she started using again.”

“Is that when your grandparents refused to let you live with them?” Zan asked.

“Yeah, they didn’t even want to meet me. My case worker couldn’t get them on the phone, so they drove me over. I was standing in their driveway when they told her to take me back to where I came from. That they had no use for the bastard daughter of a whore.”

“Who does that to a child?” Zan asked. Anatoly could feel Zan’s genuine hurt and incomprehension.

Rissa’s expression wasn’t as upset as it should’ve been. “Assholes do that.”

Anatoly would find these people and make them suffer. A quick death would be too merciful. He wanted them to hurt for every day that Rissa had to live insecure and scared. Zan sent him a worried look. The shifter couldn’t tell exactly what Anatoly was thinking, but he could sense they were dark thoughts.

“What happened after they refused to take you?” Zan asked.

“The social worker loaded me back in the car and dropped me off at a foster family,” Rissa said with a shrug. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t in foster care for long. I ran away a few weeks later.”

“You ran away?” Zan asked, his eyes wide. “You were only eight!”

Rissa smirked at him. “I wasn’t your average eight-year-old. I’d been homeless most of my life, so I knew how to get around. I packed my bag and stole all the cash and jewelry I could get my hands on. It took a few days to track Mom down. She wasn’t in great shape. She did better after I showed up, but she struggled to stop taking the meth. Looking back, I can see how hard she tried to stay sober for me.”

“Social services didn’t take you away again?” Anatoly asked.

“We tried to be careful,” she said. “It made things harder, but we managed. It helped that when they caught me, I always escaped, even the group homes. The last time I ran, I knew I couldn’t get caught because they were going to send me to one of those juvenile detention centers. Basically a kid jail.”

He could tell by her tone that being sent to a detention center had truly scared her.

“You were a child,” Zan breathed. “You should’ve been protected and sheltered.”

“It’s okay,” Rissa said. “I don’t mean it was okay that Mom struggled so much, but I learned how to be strong. By fourteen, I’d figured out how to fill out assistance forms and do my own school registration. That life taught me how to do research. That’s why I help out at Equal Under the Law.”

She went quiet for a moment. Anatoly wanted to keep her talking but was worried about asking the wrong question. He looked at Zan, and the shifter gave him a reassuring smile.

“Equal Under the Law?” Zan asked. “Are they some kind of legal aid?”

She blinked slowly as if surprised by his question. “How do you know about them?”

“You just told me,” Zan said with a quizzical look. Then he grinned and looked at Anatoly. “I think the alcohol might be taking effect.”

“Nah,” she said, her words slurring a little. “I never get drunk. I’m too careful.”

“You might not have been as careful as you think,” Zan teased. When she tried to straighten up, she almost slipped off the stool. Anatoly was quick to steady her with an arm across her back.

“Oh, hey! Why was that so slippery?”

Anatoly stifled his humor. “I don’t know, but I’ll make sure to put sticky paper on all the chairs from now on.”

“I should get back to work,” Rissa mumbled even as her eyelids drooped, and she listed sideways.

“How about a short nap?” Anatoly asked. Standing up, he carefully lifted her from the stool. Cradling her against his chest, he looked at Zan. “Do you think it would be okay to take her upstairs? She needs rest. I could put her in the bed in the spare room instead of ours.”

Zan looked torn. “The spare room is just our other room. It’s full of our stuff, and we even fuck on that bed sometimes. She could misinterpret that when she wakes up.”

“I’m not taking her back to her place,” Anatoly growled. “The rats in that building are large enough to put a leash on and walk like a pet.”

Zan snorted. “I’m not disagreeing. I don’t want her to go back there either. You know she’ll be pissed if she wakes up in either one of our beds.” Then he brightened. “Put her to bed in the second-story apartment!”

“That’s reasonable,” Anatoly agreed because he had no intention of putting her to bed and then leaving her alone. He would guard her even in her sleep.