Chapter Nineteen

In Which We See If We Can Get Through A Halloween Without Drama

H alloween falls on a Thursday. It’s not the best day for Halloween, but it’s certainly not the worst.

I leave for the Wild Hare ahead of Marcus to get set up. It’s been a while since I worked as a cocktail waitress and while it’s not a hard job, I still want to get myself organized before the craziness begins.

“Are you ready for tonight?” Zach Lamar asks as I step behind the bar and start working on my tray. On big nights like Halloween, when the club is full and they try to get women in too, we end up selling drinks like vendors at a baseball stadium–with these trays that strap around our neck and across our backs for support. Fortunately, we aren’t carrying the 40-60 pounds those guys are, but it still will be a long, exhausting night.

“I’m ready for anything,” I reply too confidently.

“Good. Darla can’t make it in tonight, so I’m going to need you to stay as close to the bar as possible.”

I bite back the sigh that threatens to escape my lips. Of course I’d need to stay by the bar. We can’t miss any opportunity for a dollar, but we also can’t trust the employee we’ve known for over a year. I stop filling my tray and look up at Zach. “Are you sure you don’t just want me to work behind the bar?”

He shakes his head. “Naw, we’ve got enough help back here tonight. Just keep within a few tables of the bar, pick up what you can from the people close by.”

What I’ll be picking up is absolutely nothing. People sitting by the bar tend to just go up to the bar for their refills where there are more options than the few things I can carry around.

“If you still don’t trust me to be here, then you should have just told me to stay home.”

He frowns. “It’s not that. It’s just that it’s going to be a crazy night. Anything can happen and we can’t afford for you to have another incident–”

“One, it wasn’t an incident. I was being sexually assaulted. I’m not out here attacking random customers.” I feel my cheeks heat as my voice grows louder with frustration. “Two, I thought you were giving me an opportunity to make up some of the money I’m losing, but now I’m going to be making nothing. Everyone close to the bar is just going to want bar drinks. They’ll tip when they cash out.” I can feel the anger rise up in my chest. I suck in a breath and release it slowly. Setting Zach Lamar on fire will not help anything.

“Steely, I’m sorry, we just can’t–”

“Can’t or won’t? I’d appreciate it, if you and Randy were just straight with me. If you don’t feel like I should work here anymore, then–”

“Hey, don’t stress,” Zander says, appearing out of nowhere. It’s as if he has discord radar. “I can guard you for a bit tonight,” he says to me. “We’ll rotate everyone’s areas a couple of times so no one ends up in a shitty area. I’m sure all the girls would appreciate that.”

Zander looks between me and his brother. Zach sighs. “Do you really have time to follow her around?”

“Does Red have time for you to interview new dancers right before the wedding because you’ve pissed off our current ones?”

I look down at my feet and bite my lip to keep from smiling in front of them.

“The first sign of trouble–” Zach starts.

Zander holds up his hands. “There will be no trouble tonight, Alpha Lamar.”

Zach rolls his eyes and walks away towards the back.

“What’s that all about?” I whisper, my inner nosiness winning over my annoyance at Zach. “Won’t he become the Alpha when he and Red get married?”

Zander snorts. “He doesn’t want to. He’s trying to convince Randy to keep the title a little bit longer. Says he wants to have time to enjoy being married.”

“As someone who’s walked in on him and Red in the office, I think they have been enjoying all that marriage has to offer already.”

He laughs. “Yeah, and their birth control game is strong. If he knocked her up, he’d have no choice to take on the role of Alpha, but as long as they don’t have a kid the Wolf Council doesn’t really care what happens. Poor Randy can be a fucking ninety-year-old Alpha, for all they care.”

“They wouldn’t just give it to you?”

He shakes his head. “No, and I wouldn’t want it. It sucks to be stuck like Randy is as the Beta who had to step into the Alpha’s role. Your pack loses its Beta and you’re on your own.”

I’d never really considered all the weird family workings behind the pack I worked for. “Why isn’t Randy forcing him to take over?”

He shakes his head. “That’s not how Betas are built. We worry about the pack. We protect them at all costs. It’s why we suck as Alphas…we’re people pleasers, at least when it comes to our pack.”

Zander wanders off to the back, leaving me alone at the bar. It’s still early, and only a few of the regulars are here at the bar–Atticus, who’s a–you know, I’m not sure what he is. He’s green, but not the same green as the huge Gobelin, Norm, that sits next to him. I walk over to that end of the bar and lean close to them.

“Are y’all going to be here tonight?”

“I am,” Norm says. “Wife’s got to work.”

“Same,” Atticus says.

“I invited my man to come here tonight. He’s new in town. Do you think y’all could keep him company?”

“Sure thing, kid. What’s he do for a living?” Atticus says.

“He used to be in the military. Now he’s thinking about starting an animal sanctuary.”

Norm puffs up a bit and sits taller on his stool. “I spent some years in the Marines. He wasn’t in the Chair Force, was he?”

I laugh at his name for the Air Force. “No, sir. Army. He lost his leg in Afghanistan, so he’s a civilian now.”

“Well, in that case, he’s welcome to hang out with us. We’ll keep him occupied and the ladies away,” Norm says with a wink.

“I’ll keep him occupied. Norm will keep the ladies away,” Atticus corrects.

Norm gives him a look. “Back in my day, the ladies couldn’t get enough of me.”

“I think you mean they couldn’t get far enough away from you,” Atticus counters.

I laugh. “I appreciate you both.” Hopefully Marcus doesn’t mind me finding him buddies for the night.

I finish setting up my tray and then head to the dressing room. The room is full of girls in all sorts of crazy costumes. It’s an annual tradition among the dancers to try to come up with the most insane costumes possible if you’re taking the stage. Unfortunately, I came too late for it last year, and this year, I just wasn’t up to it. The Wild Hare just seems less and less worth my effort lately.

“Hey, stranger,” Shania teases as I take a chair next to her dressing table. “Is your man coming by tonight?”

“Yeah, I’ve got Norm and Atticus holding him a seat at the bar.”

She stops fussing with her makeup and meets my eyes. “What’s wrong? Is he already pissing you off? Just say the word–these heels can kill a man–”

I smirk. “No, no, Marcus is great.” I run my hands over my face and sigh. “I think I’m pretty close to being let go.”

“Do I need to go talk to Randy?”

I shake my head. The last thing I want is for anyone else to get caught up in this. “No. It’s just…Zach asked me to come in tonight and then just told me he wanted me close to the bar. Zander had to volunteer to follow me just so I could get a shot at a decent area.”

“That motherfucker.”

“Maybe I should just leave before my schedule gets worse..”

She sits down at the table and leans in close, her sexy excavator costume getting in the way as the hat with the digging arm falls between us. Despite myself, it sets me off giggling as she has to turn away from me for a moment and stick a dozen more bobby pins in to keep it in place.

“As I was about to say,” she says, leaning in and speaking in a whisper. “I know some girls who’ve gone to the city to dance. It’d be a drive to see your man, but the pack that runs it is a lot less squeamish about customers dying than the Lamars are.”

I’m afraid to ask, but can’t help myself. “Why are they less squeamish?”

“The clubs are all owned by the Degarmo family. I can get you an audition. You’d get picked up in no time.”

“The Degarmo family? They’re real?” I’d heard people talk about a mafia family that ran things in the city, but I thought people were just being overdramatic. So many people are constantly convinced crime is occurring right under their noses. I figured that it was probably just rumors.

“I can’t work for the mafia.” I whisper back.

She shrugs. “It’s not like you have to dance a set then go out and tie bricks to a guy. It’s stripping, just like here, but for guys with more money. Your boss there wouldn’t give a damn if you took out some scumbag.”

I sigh. “I don’t want to take out anyone, and I don’t think I can work for the mafia, but thanks.”

“If you change your mind, let me know. Like I said, I know some girls and I’ve been thinking about auditioning myself.”

That stops me. “You? You’d move to the city?” Shania has lived in Black Raven County her whole life. I can’t imagine her becoming a city girl, but maybe she’s tired of the same old, same old. But still… working for the mafia?

“Are you sure? It’s the mafia… What if you want to leave? Won’t they take you out to the docks?”

She snickers. “It’s a business like everything else, Steely. They’re not letting you into the pack, they’re laundering money. If their strippers constantly died, there’d be a lot of people asking questions.”

“True…just promise me, you’ll be careful.”

She winks. “I’m always careful.”

I laugh. “That is a lie.”

We aren’t huggy friends, but I reach out anyway and squeeze her quickly before I stand up. “I’ll miss you when you go.”

She smiles. “Times are changing and so are we. You’ve got a serious man, Ella’s about to head off to law school, and I’m itching for something new. It’s a good time for us all.”

Randy knocks, forcing an end to the conversation. He steps in to give everyone one of his big night pep talks before they start the show. It’s my cue to get on the floor, but I’m not eager to talk to either Lamar Alpha tonight. Not when I’m this close to just not showing up tomorrow. I pause to let him get a few dozen steps ahead of me before giving Shania a kiss on the cheek and head out myself.

In the time I’ve been backstage, the club has already started filling up. It’s early, but that hasn’t stopped people from coming in dressed as every possible thing one could imagine. There’s several T-Rexes, bears, anime characters, sexy versions of every profession you can imagine, and even some hobbits–at least I hope that’s a costume. With the fae living in the back lot, you never know who or what is in the club these days.

I spot Marcus right away. He’s early, of course, because, just like Lugh, you can take the man out of the military, but you can’t take the military out of the man. He stands near the door, looking hot and uncertain in his scarecrow costume. I walk around the bar to sneak up behind him.

“I’ll get you, my pretty and your little–” I start to say in the worst witch voice that’s ever been attempted, only to have him turn and pull me to him.

“That is the absolute worst witch impression I’ve ever heard. Are you sure you’re the real thing?” he teases.

I slap him on the butt. “It’s the thought that counts.”

He laughs and kisses me on the forehead. “So, this is where you work?”

“Yep. Come on, I’ve got you a place at the bar already next to some regulars.”

“Is it the old people's area?”

“Maybe… but you’ll like them, I promise.”

He laughs. I take his hand and guide him to the bar. “Norm, Atticus, this is Marcus.”

Norm and Atticus stand and shake his hand. “Don’t worry, Steely, we’ll take good care of him for you,” Norm says, elbowing Marcus with a wink.

“More like Marcus will have to help me keep Norm’s wife from having to come get him,” Atticus mutters.

Marcus chuckles. I set up Marcus’s bar tab under my card, give him a kiss and head off into the crowd. Things are already getting a little rowdy as the first dancer comes out, but the Lamars seem to have the crowd mostly under control.

Tables that are normally close to the stage have been moved away to make room for people to dance. Several wolves stand at intervals in front of the stage, keeping an eye on those who come forward to get a closer look and tip, but for the most part the area around the stage seems to be fairly tame. I try and fail not to feel a little jealous as men and women toss so many bills on the stage for each dancer. They spend more time trying to find ways to seductively pick up the cash than actually dancing.

The hobbits, or whatever they are, are a different story. They spend all their time in my section being…weird. I know it’s a dumb thing to say about a person in a strip club at Halloween, but that’s the only way I can describe it.

I circle through the section closest to the bar several times, checking on people sitting at tables and standing near the dance floor. Zander, of course, is nowhere around as the hours drag on, so I’m stuck in the section with the little guys. They sit for a lot of the night, nursing beers and just watching, their giant feet just barely hitting the floor.

“Can I get you another round?” I finally ask on my fourth trip through the section. They look up at me with suspicion in their eyes. A couple heading to the bar scoot behind me, bumping me forward, and I reach a hand out to balance myself. My hands land on the forearms of two of the men. Their skin is incredibly hot to the touch.

“I am so sorry,” I apologize. No one at the table says a word, so I back away and head to the bar. It’s time to refill my tray, anyway. I lean over the bar to give Marcus a quick peck on the cheek, then turn to Norm. Thankfully, the DJ is further away than normal and I only have to half yell.

“Norm, have you ever met a hobbit?”

“A what?”

“A hobbit.”

He shakes his head. “We have some hobbit-looking men over there and they’re being weird.”

“Do you need me to say something? I’ll–” he starts to stand up, swaying.

“No, no, I’m fine. They’re not being inappropriate, they just seem out of place.”

“Maybe they’re related to the fae out back?”

I nod. “That’s probably it. They probably don’t get out much.”

“You okay?” Marcus mouths and I nod. Coming to a bar and being grumpy isn’t a crime.

I finish filling up my tray, give Marcus a side hug and a kiss since the tray’s in the way, and head off back into the crowd. The hobbit-men are just getting up from the table as I make my way back through my section. I pause and watch them melt into the crowd, feeling off about the whole situation, but having no recourse.

They aren’t doing anything wrong. They’re just… weird. I head over to the table to clear it off for the group that’s wanting to take it over, when I see it–the cloak of one of the men is still there, draped over a chair. Hesitantly, I pick it up. It’s incredibly soft and as warm as Marcus’s enchanted costumes were the night before. Using magic isn’t illegal, and if I was going to come across random magic in the wild, Halloween night seems to be as good a day as any.

I drape it over my arm, intending to find one of the guys and hand it back, when suddenly the room starts to spin.

“You okay, miss?” a voice says from my side.

My head feels hot and I feel nauseous like the one time I tried to donate blood in college and nearly passed out. I put a hand out to steady myself, and a pretty girl dressed as Alice in thigh-high lace stockings stands up and grabs me by the elbows. She sits me in her chair, grabs one of the water bottles from my tray and opens it for me. I take it blindly and manage to get some water in my mouth, all the while the world continues to spin.

“Did she get drugged?” I hear a girl ask.

“She looks like it. What the fuck is wrong with men?”

The conversation rolls on over me. The table suddenly looks incredibly inviting. I’d love to put my head against it and just sleep, but the tray is in my way. My body is too heavy, too slow to move it out of the way, so I just lean closer and closer until the tray is cutting into my stomach and the cloak drops from my arms.

All at once, everything returns to normal. The heaviness, the spinning, the nausea…it all stops. I blink in surprise and find four really hot girls staring at me from around the table. “You okay? You looked pretty rough there for a second,” sexy Alice says. She notices the cloak on the floor and leans over to pick it up.

“NO!” I find myself screaming above the noise.

She backs away from me and the cloak, slowly, as if I’m going to attack. “It’s got something on it,” I try to explain. “It made me sick. Don’t touch it.”

She kicks it with the toe of her shoe and it slides across the floor and right into the path of a sexy T-Rex. At least I think that’s what the costume is. The woman stops in her tracks and stares at the cloak for a long moment before reaching down to pick it up.

“NO!” the girls at the table join me in shouting at her, but she merely pinches it between two fingers and holds it up as if it is the most disgusting thing she’s ever seen.

Her large eyes meet mine and I realize I know this T-Rex. “Where are they?” she asks.

“Esmer?”

She smiles and turns, “You like the fit?”

I nod. “Th-they are on the dance floor, I think.”

“Show me.”

I leave my tray at the bar and then head into the crowd with Esmer still holding the cloak up as if it’s a soiled diaper. The crowd parts for us, eager to get away from the garment. The hobbits are nowhere to be seen.

She shakes her head as we find ourselves on the other side of the room. “They’re still here. I can feel them.”

I’m tempted to ask her what they are. This seems to be a lot of trouble for dudes dressed as hobbits, when I see Zach Lamar making a beeline for us. “Steely, where’s Zander? I thought he was guarding you?”

Esmer turns to him and gives him a disgusted look. “She’s helping me look for trows. Be useful and help us, wolf.”

“Trows? What’s a trow?”

“A predator, looking for a mortal wife to steal. So unless you want to be known as the place where women go to disappear, I’d suggest you start helping us look now, too.”

“Fuck, what does this trow look like?”

“There’s four. They look like hobbits. They’re wearing cloaks like this,” I tell him, pointing to the fabric Esmer is holding. “Don’t touch the cloak, it’s like being roofied.”

Esmer shakes her head. “They can look like anything or anyone they want. The cloaks won’t change, though. Have people look for the cloaks.”

Zach looks horrified. “I’ll make an announcement from the DJ’s stand.”

He wanders off and I follow Esmer as she makes a large circle around the room. There aren’t many exits in the building. In fact, I’m not even sure this building is built to fire code. We work our way through throngs of drunk people. Most move out of the way of the sexy T-Rex, but several men try to stop her as we pass, and are sent away with just a scathing look.

The club has quickly become packed–everyone’s costumes are making it that much harder to move through the crowd. We dodge tails and inflated plastic outfits, and cardboard cutouts left and right. As we move closer and closer to the door, she moves faster and faster. I don’t know why, but I keep on her heels, eager to see what this confrontation will look like.

“You!” I hear her shout above the crowd. “Stop that man there!”

She rushes forward as the man hurries to the door, a person covered in a cloak leaning against his side.

This isn’t the creepy, grumpy hobbit from before, but instead a human man in jeans, a baseball cap, and a t-shirt that says “THIS IS MY COSTUME” in large black letters. He’s got his arm around a woman completely draped in a cloak similar to the one in Esmer’s hand. As we get closer, I can feel the heat emanating from him.

“STOP THAT MAN!” I call out to Eddie, our bright red demon bouncer. That gets him up and on the defensive.

“This is my girlfriend. She just had a little too much to drink. I’m just taking her home.” the man says. The woman leans against him, moaning.

“I’m going to throw up,” she mutters as we all gather around.

“What’s going on here?” Zander says, appearing out of nowhere.

Esmer turns to him. “This trow is attempting to steal a human from your bar.”

“Are you sure?” he says, getting into the man’s space. Zander and all the wolves are in their partial shift. They stand a lot taller and appear far more muscular than normal. He sniffs the air and looks between the man and the woman.

“She doesn’t smell like yours.”

The man looks taken aback. “Fuck you, man. Don’t come around me sniffing my girlfriend.” He looks ready to fight as he pushes into Zander’s space. I take the opportunity to do the only thing I can think of. I hold my breath like I’m about to open the dumpster in the back and snatch the cloak off the woman. It’s like grabbing a pan hot from the oven. From my side, I hear Esmer suck in a breath as if she’s watching me do something incredibly painful.

It’s all the warning I get.

The cloak is incredibly tight on the woman, as if an unseen belt holds it, and I find myself fighting with it, holding onto it for far too long. At last, something snaps and the cloak falls on me for a moment before I’m able to shake it off.

Instant nausea overwhelms me, and my stomach wretches violently. I manage to make it to the bushes as the effects of its enchantments wear off the hapless woman.

“What the fuck is going on? Who are you?” She’s yelling as I try not to keep my hair out of the way. I have thrown up outside way too many bars in my life, but never have I done it sober. It’s definitely a different experience.

“I’m your boyfriend,” the man is saying incredulously.

“The fuck you are, asshole.”

The yelling continues on as my stomach begins to heave again.

“Sarah,” I hear Esmer say from a safe distance behind me, “do you need a ginger ale?”

I almost want to laugh at how old-fashioned it sounds to ask if I want a ginger ale, but my stomach is heaving again.

“Marcus…” I manage to mutter. “Can you get Marcus at the bar?”

“Of course, dear,” she says before disappearing.

Seconds later, Marcus is at my side, gathering back my hair and holding it for me as I throw up for what feels like the twentieth time. “What happened?” he asks as he rubs my back.

“She fought strong magic without protection,” I hear Esmer tell him.

“I just pulled off a cloak,” I croak out.

She shrugs. “Fighting magic isn’t lights and fire and dramatics. Mostly, it’s just undoing someone else’s magic and then throwing up afterwards if you weren’t careful about it. Get some soup in her. She’ll be better in the morning.”

She turns to Zander. “Sarah’s leaving early. The pack owes her a debt. That Trow would have walked off with a human woman and your club would have been the place women go to disappear. Not exactly good for business.” She turns to Eddie and kicks the cloak to him. “Do not allow anyone with this cloak to leave. There are at least two more cloaks like this one. We need to find them. Come along, wolf.”

Zander looks between us, bewildered, but follows Esmer back into the Wild Hare without complaint.

“Is your purse inside?” Marcus asks me.

I shake my head. “In my trunk.” I hand him my keys.

“Stay here and I’ll bring my truck around.”

I lean my head against the cold, bumpy brick of the building and close my eyes. I definitely need a new job. Zach was right, even if he was just looking out for himself and the Wild Hare. This is too volatile a place for me to be. I cannot keep stepping into magical situations without even knowing what I’m getting into. I’m going to get myself or someone else hurt.

Marcus pulls up and, despite my grumbling, carries me in his arms to the open passenger door of the truck. The nausea has stopped, only to be replaced with a feeling of utterly being drained like I have a bad flu. I close my eyes and lean awkwardly on Marcus the entire drive home.

Back at the fire station, I wave him off as he tries to carry me up the stairs. Once I make it to his room, I don’t even have the energy to wash my face or take off my costume. Darkness takes me, and I’m grateful for it.