Chapter 5

Charlotte Sanguinite

I know better than to mouth off to an Alpha of a prominent shifter pack, but the way he looked at me, as if I were nothing more than a pesky insect, pissed me off.

I didn't know that vampires were no longer allowed to conduct business in shifter territories. I have always tried to stay away from any establishment owned by my former clan, and they had no reason to inform me of such a decision.

I press my fist to my mouth as I look at job postings in the city. The problem is that, even with the map in front of me, the lines between each territory aren't clearly marked. As an exiled vampire, I will not be welcome in any vampire clan territory. And the wolves won't let me work in theirs.

What am I supposed to do? Where do I go?

What if Robert decides to come back this evening and just deal with me once and for all? He probably won't, but I can't help but imagine worst-case scenarios right now.

I could always do the one thing I've never been able to before: sell the apartment and leave. Move elsewhere. But wherever I go, it's either going to be shifter territory or vampire territory. And if Robert has such a problem with me simply working at a job in his territory, what's to say other shifters won't share his feelings?

I bury my head in my hands, feeling lost and overwhelmed. I should have controlled my temper. I shouldn't have snapped at him. Now he's just going to find a way to kick me out. And who knows if he'll even leave me alive and in one piece? It's the idea of finally finding a place where I'm happy and have friends and then being told I don't belong here that has my blood boiling.

"Everything good with you, Charlotte?" Shelby Brown, the woman who works here part-time, asks as she mops the floor. Shelby is a heavyset woman in her late fifties. She has a soft heart and a jovial personality.

"Yeah." I stare at my laptop anxiously.

"Doesn't look like it." She makes her way over to me. "What're you looking at?"

When she sees the job search website, she gives me a confused look. "What're you doing searching for a job? You already got one."

I wish I could just open my mouth and lay bare my heart, but Shelby is a human, and sharing anything with her would also put her life at risk.

"It's complicated," I finally sigh, resting my cheek on the palm of my hand. "I think I should get a job at some farm in the middle of nowhere."

Shelby pats me on the cheek. "Sweetie, you're too young to have an existential crisis. Go have some cake. There are a few leftover slices in the fridge."

"I'd rather have my existential crisis, thank you." I turn my attention back to the screen.

She leans on the handle of the mop. "Do you really want to leave so badly? Has somebody said something to you?"

"It's—I don't feel very safe…"

As always, Shelby comes to the worst possible conclusion. "Oh, God. Don't tell me you have loan sharks chasing after you?"

Safewas probably the wrong word to use here.

"Of course n—"

Before I can deny anything, the door opens. It's almost 9:00 p.m. We're about to close in half an hour, and it's very rare to have a customer at this time of night. The moment I look up, my face twists in a grimace.

Robert Montgomery.

Wasn't it bad enough that he ruined my past two days? Why does he keep showing up all the time?

"We're closed," I say tightly.

He looks over his shoulder at the writing on our door, looking amused. "That says you're open."

"Well, our kitchen is closed."

"Charlo—" Shelby begins, knowing I'm lying, but I cut her off abruptly.

"In fact, the coffee machines have also just been unplugged, so it would be better if you just left."

Instead of taking offense and walking out, the Alpha slides into the seat across from me. "Then I'll take you out to get a bite to eat. It'll give us time to talk."

I press my lips together into a thin, hard line. "I have nothing to say to you."

Shelby is slowly inching toward us, wanting to overhear. I look at her. "Can we have a moment, Shelby?"

Sighing in disappointment, the woman says, "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

As soon as she is out of earshot, I frown. "Look, I'm already searching for jobs, okay? Once I find one, I'll be out of your territory."

"I didn't come here because of that." Robert Montgomery studies me, his expression calm. Yet, there is something behind his eyes that has me on edge.

"What do you want, then?"

"Your last name, what is it?"

My fingers dig into my palm. Everyone knows about the bad blood between my family and the Montgomery and Wolfguard Packs. Even though I'm no longer part of my clan, I can't escape the whispers and the rumors.

Revealing who I am is going to be nothing short of a death sentence.

"Beaumont," I lie. Although, to be fair, it is my legal name.

"That's your fake name."

"Excuse me?" I stare at him. "It's on my birth certificate."

"Yes." Robert doesn't look very impressed as he crosses his arms. "How strange that your parents don't exist, then. I did a deep dive into your background, Charlotte. Your parents do not exist. In fact, there is no record of you, aside from that one birth certificate, before the age of fourteen. What I also find intriguing is that neither of the two vampire clans in Portland have any child registered under your name. There is no girl or woman with the first name Charlotte within your age range in either of those clans. So, why don't you think over my question again?"

His words take me by surprise.

If he looked in the registry of my clan, he would have found my first name, along with my birth date.

All supernatural beings have to register their families. It's a way to keep track of everyone. The information is easily accessible. Removing someone from the register is a long hassle and very rarely done. It's been eight years, but the shock of his revelation leaves me reeling.

They struck me from the registry.

The thought stuns me, and my chest tightens with raw emotion.

I never thought my father would go the extra mile and actually remove me from the family register. To the Nelo Clan, I basically no longer exist, nor did I ever exist.

I feel my eyes burn with tears, and I lower my gaze.

Useless.

That's what my father called me when he dragged me by the arm, my siblings watching and grinning.

"You are a disgrace to this family!"

He threw me outside the clan territory as if I were nothing more than garbage.

He must have really despised me to have wiped my entire existence from the clan.

"Charlotte?"

Robert's voice sounds concerned, and I look up.

"What?" I wipe my eyes furiously. "You just don't give up, do you? You want to know the truth? My family didn't want me, okay? I'm a defect. I'm a defective vampire! If they went and struck me from the family register, they clearly don't have anything to do with me anymore. I don't have a clan. I don't have a family. I don't have anyone. So just—" my voice cracks, "just leave me alone! I just want to be left alone." I get to my feet, my heart throbbing with a pain that has never really died. "If you want to get rid of me, just kill me. Stop wrecking whatever life I'm trying to build for myself!"

Turning on my heel, I run toward the back room.

He can catch me easily if he wishes, but he doesn't.

I run past a startled Shelby, straight into the storage room, and slamming the door shut behind me, I sink to the ground, trying to regulate my breathing. I can feel the panic attack coming; it's hard to think, hard to breathe past the suffocation that is strangling me.

I was never enough.

For my father, for my siblings, for my clan, I was never enough. And no matter how hard I work, how many plans I make for the future, the constant reminder of how unwanted I am never stops looming over my head. My heart feels like it will burst out of my chest, it's beating so painfully hard.

Like packs are important to wolf shifters, vampires thrive in their clans. Without a clan, we are nothing. I feel like nothing most of the time. Sometimes, when I look at myself in the mirror, I want to smash the reflection. I want to hate the tired-looking woman staring back at me.

Why does no one want me?

The fourteen-year-old asked that question over and over again as she wandered into the city, shivering, her heart broken. The twenty-two-year-old woman I've become still asks this question.

I've worked at a number of places, but this one, this cafe, and the shelter I volunteer at, they helped me find my footing. This little coffee shop, the people who work here, they gave me a place to belong. Maybe for Shelby and Jazz, and even Gina, this place might just be another job, but for me, it's stability. I've never had that before. I've found people I consider friends, something I've always wanted. It's not much, but it gives me some peace. And now…Now, I'm being forced to give it all up again.

I wipe my eyes, and there's a knock on the door.

"Charlotte, sweetie, you okay?" Shelby sounds upset. "Please open the door."

"I'm fine," I say, trying to breathe through the panic. "Give me a minute."

Silence from the other side, and then Shelby says, "Your boyfriend is gone."

A choked guffaw bubbles out of my mouth. The sheer absurdity of her words makes me want to both laugh and cry, at the same time.

It helps.

I press the heel of my palm against my forehead, a small, humorless smile playing on my lips now. Sometimes I feel like a broken ship drifting on a vast ocean, with no anchor. I'm just floating, trying to find a place to land.

I get to my feet and open the door.

Shelby's worried face is the first thing I see.

"I drove him out!" she says fiercely. "Told him to take his attitude with him. If he bothers you again, I'll give you some pepper spray to use on him."

"Thanks, Shelby, but he's not my boyfriend."

"He's not?" She doesn't sound very convinced. "Are you sure? Because I saw the way he was looking at you…"

I shake my head at her. "Trust me. I'm nothing more than an inconvenience to him."

The older woman gives me a troubled look and then says, slowly, "But he's still bothering you, isn't he?" She doesn't wait for a reply, adding, "My sister and nephew run a farm up in Washington. If you want, I can talk to them about a job. The problem is, it's a little isolated out there. The closest town is a half-hour drive."

My head shoots up, "Really?"

That might work.

Shelby looks a little taken aback at my apparent enthusiasm. "Y—You want me to talk to her?"

"Will you?"

Her sigh is heavy as she puts a hand on my shoulder. "You're a good girl, Charlotte. I wish you hadn't got caught up with those loan sharks. I always tell my kids: never borrow money that's not from a bank. But you lot are just young and hot-headed."

At this point, I don't even want to correct her.

Robert really is gone when I head to the front of the coffee shop. But under my laptop, he's left his card. I stare at it.

Does he think I'm going to give him a call?

What is this, an interview?

I crumple the card, but before I can toss it in the trash, I hear my phone go off.

It's Ricky.

I'm not due at the shelter today, so I wonder what he wants.

I press the phone to my ear, my voice a little scratchy. "Hey, Ricky. Everything okay?"

"Charlotte, can you come cover for me for a couple hours today? I've got some family stuff to deal with. It's urgent. I tried Estelle, but she's not picking up."

Estelle is the vet who works in the mornings and afternoons.

"Um, how long?" I ask uneasily.

"I don't know," he admits, sounding tense. "It might be morning before I'm back."

I groan inwardly. "Okay, but Ricky, Mano is home alone. And I was just about to head home to her—"

"Bring her with you. I'll pay you. I can't leave the shelter unattended."

I sigh. "Okay, alright."

"Look, I'll book you a taxi. It'll pick you up from your workplace, you can go get your cat, and then it'll drop you off here."

My brow furrows. The situation must be really bad for him to be springing for a taxi.

"Okay, don't worry."

As soon as I end the call, I absentmindedly stuff the crumpled card into my pocket and look at Shelby. "I'll finish wiping down the tables. Do you mind locking up tonight? I'm needed at the animal shelter."

"Of course!" Shelby seems a little too relieved, for some reason.

Ricky knows where I work because sometimes I bring him free coffee and leftovers from our bakery section. I'm drying the coffee pots when the taxi arrives.

"I'm leaving, Shelby!" I call out.

In response, the older woman hurries out of the kitchen, holding a bag. "Here. We have a lot left over."

The smell of the beef buns makes my mouth water. Shelby has gone the extra mile and heated them up for me.

"You're the best, Shelby." I beam at her, feeling much better.

Grabbing my things, I make a beeline for the taxi waiting outside. Fortunately, there's not much to pack for an annoyed Mano when I reach my apartment. But I slide my pajamas and a shirt into my bag. Ricky is waiting outside the shelter for me when the taxi finally arrives there, his arms crossed and anxiety radiating from every pore.

"You're here." He looks relieved. "Sorry, my sister's baby. He's not doing well. They're both hospitalized, so I have to go."

My eyes widen in shock. "Wait, what?"

"I have to go!" He gets in the taxi. "Thanks for this!"

I watch the car drive away, bewildered and concerned at the same time.

I don't know much about Ricky, except that he owns this shelter. He's mentioned his sister a couple of times, but I've never met her.

I hope everything turns out okay.

Carrying Mano's crate, I walk inside and close the door. Ricky has left a note for me on the front desk.

Charlotte,

Everything is done. The animals are resting. You just need to feed the kittens according to their schedule. I just fed them. I've left a folding mattress in the back office for you in case you want to sleep.

Sorry, and thanks,

Ricky

A small smile on my lips, I set down the note and head to the bathroom to change into my pajamas, but not before opening Mano's cat box. She's been here plenty of times; she jumps out and explores the office, sniffing around. Putting my hair up in a messy bun, and feeling more relaxed in my loose pajamas, I check the fridge in the kitchen. It's always stocked because Ricky likes to eat at night. I pour myself a glass of milk and warm it up before looking at all the baked goods I got from Shelby.

I select a beef bun and a pizza sandwich. Sitting in the back office, I have my dinner, trying not to think about the events of today. Now that I've been sufficiently distracted, my pessimism has begun to fade away. I'll get through this. I always do. I won't let some arrogant Alpha ruin my mood or my life. Besides, it won't be the worst thing to actually leave this city. And I don't even have to sell the apartment. I can just rent it out. Plus, if I can secure a job at some ranch or farm, Mano would love the freedom.

Feeling a little more bolstered, I snort. Robert Montgomery can go suck it. Just because I like the way he smiles doesn't mean he's any less of a jerk. I saved his life, and he's repaying me by trying to kick me out of Portland. If he knew it was me who saved his life, I wonder if he'd be singing the same tune?

My expression grows dark.

Not that I can tell him. I don't want to be dragged into this war between the two species.

I pick up my dirty plate and glass and wash them in the sink, my mind wandering. Angie did warn me that my future was uncertain. She seemed to be sure that there was something bad coming to Portland soon, and that I would find myself involved in it somehow.

Perhaps it would be for the best if I leave now. Now is as good a time as any. I don't have much experience aside from waitressing and working in coffee shops as a barista. Perhaps I should give farmwork a try. I might even be good at it.

My lips curve as I chuckle at myself. The image of myself in overalls, hauling around a bale of hay, is a ridiculous sight, even in my own imagination, and most likely an exaggerated one. I should probably look up what kinds of jobs are available at a farm, though.

As I put the dishes aside to dry, I feel my heart becoming lighter.

I've always been adaptable. It was the only way I could survive after being thrown out of my home at such a vulnerable age. I had to protect myself against all kinds of predators that had human faces. But beneath the hurt and the fear was a desperate desire to live, to survive.

My hands curl around the edge of the marble sink, and I press my lips together in determination.

I'm going to be fine.

I'll weather this storm as I have the others before it.

Hearing one of the dogs barking from the other room, I wipe my hands on a towel and head to the source of the sound. One of the younger dogs, a six-month-old Labrador, is frantically digging at his cage and barking. Realizing he needs to go out, I grab a leash and open his cage. He bolts for the door that leads to the yard, but I grab him and secure the leash to his collar.

Once outside, I walk him over to one of the trees and let him do his business.

When he's done, his head swivels to the side, and I see a streak move past. It takes me less than a second to process what it was, and my heart crawls into my throat in sheer panic.

"Mano!"

Damn it! I must have left the door open!

She's not listening to me, already scrambling up the tree, eager to explore.

"Mano, no!" I have one hand on the leash, the puppy barking his head off, as my one-eyed adventurer contemplates the top of the fence.

I quickly begin tying the dog's leash to the tree trunk when I see Mano jump. A strangled sound leaves my throat as she flies right over the wooden fence.

I don't have time to waste.

While Mano is mostly an indoor cat, I take her out on walks, so much so that she isn't scared of being outside. I've never let her out alone by herself. But since this isn't the first time she's outside, she won't be scared. Her instinct won't be to hide under a car. She'll go exploring.

Securing the dog, I climb up the tree and jump. My reflexes are nimble, and I land on the edge of the fence. Slipping to the cement ground on the other side, I begin calling out, "Mano! Mano, come here!"

However, Mano doesn't respond.

I've worked in this shelter long enough to know what happens to indoor cats who escape.

"Mano!" My voice breaks as I run down the street, tears burning my eyes, my heart thudding so hard against my rib cage that it feels like it will burst out of me.

"Mano, come back!" My face is wet as I stagger to a stop, looking up and down the street. I can't see her anywhere. My body is heavy with fear and grief.

"What do I do?" The words are torn out of me in a broken sob. "Mano!"

But there's no sign of her anywhere.

I'm not a crybaby, but I stand there, in the middle of the empty street, with tears streaming down my face. I feel as if my whole world has suddenly gone dark.

I can't lose Mano. She's my only family.

"Mano!" The sound is a wretched whimper. I don't know which way to turn. Where do I begin looking?

"Charlotte." A calm voice from behind me has me turning around, and I see Robert Montgomery standing there, his expression strange.

In his arms, he's holding Mano.