Another temporary stop on my endless journey. Southport, right by the Long Island Sound. I suspect I won’t be sticking around here long either, but I’ve got to admit, it’s pretty cozy. I’ve been dreaming of getting close to the water for a while now, to the hustle of the port and the cries of seagulls. They say folks by the coast are more welcoming and friendly. Well, let’s find out.
My routine is something I’ve honed over time. First things first, I need to find a job and a place to crash for me and Pru.
Pru is my raven and my only companion. I always lug him around in a cage on the passenger seat next to me. He was a parting gift from my grandmother, Ember. She said there’s a piece of our ancestors’ souls in this bird. Here’s the catch—ideally, my job and living space should be close by, or even better, in the same building. I’m not sure about the ancestor thing, but Pru and I have developed a strong mental bond. We’re a pack. He senses when something’s off and raises the alarm—squawking at the top of his lungs. And for him, danger can be as simple as someone around me having the wrong vibe. That’s why I need to stay near him, to calm him down before he hurts himself banging against the cage. Once, Pru broke free, flew into the bar where I was working, and nearly pecked some jerk’s eye out.
I usually look for work in the service industry, most often as a waitress in a café. It’s the kind of job that lets me see everyone while staying invisible to them.
My golden rule? Don’t get close to anyone. Don’t open up. Getting attached is a no-go—cutting those ties hurts like hell.
The café-bar sits right by the dock, and its name struck me as pretty ironic, almost taunting—“The Maw.” Perfect spot for a shifter, right? I decided to give it a shot, even though there’s no “Help Wanted” sign out front. A little bell jingled cheerfully as I pushed open the door. I hate bells. With my hypersensitive hearing, that sound is pure torture!
“Hey there, guy with the gorgeous, sad eyes. You wouldn’t happen to be the owner of this fine establishment, would you?” Oh, I’m good at talking to people, especially when it benefits me. I’ve got a knack for picking just the right words, the ones they want to hear or that make them warm up to me.
It’s one of the perks of being an alpha—knowing how to win people over. My set of supernatural traits also includes a sharp sense of smell, hearing, sight, strength, and speed. Sitting at the bar, I can already hear what’s cooking in the kitchen and make out the chef’s grumbling. Luckily, I can tune it out, or this super-cool baggage would drive me nuts.
I flashed a smile at the guy behind the bar, and to my pleasant surprise, he smiled back—genuinely. Most people in his line of work wear a fake mask all the time. I’m also pretty good at reading emotions, another quirk of my kind. It’s hard to fool me. I can tell when someone’s nervous, lying, or angry. Though I’ll admit, sincere, warm feelings directed at me always throw me off a little.
“Didn’t know it showed in my gorgeous eyes. You could say I’m part owner. I’m the owner’s son. Does the mysterious stranger have business with us?”
“I’m looking to sign on as a waitress,” I said with a nod, keeping up the sweet smile. “Fair warning, I’m a hard worker. And my biggest strength? I’ve got an incredible tolerance for people’s flaws and weaknesses, which makes me a natural with customers. I’m responsible, quick on my feet, and I’ve got a great memory. Oh, and I’m humble, as you’ve probably noticed.”
“Sure,” the guy laughed. “A real saint. Sorry if that sounded rude. You’re funny.”
“And you’re a sweet, well-mannered specimen, the picture of the perfect guy.”
Open, trusting people like him get to me right away. Personally, I can’t help but feel a soft spot for them.
“I’m Nikki!” I said, extending my hand, which was met with a firm, masculine grip.
“Edward Carter, but call me Ed. Truth is, Dad wasn’t planning on hiring anyone extra, but I’ve been telling him for weeks that we could use an extra pair of hands during peak season. Maybe you can convince him.”
From the constant background noise, I picked out the sound of hurried footsteps coming from the residential part of the building connected to the café. Ed’s gaze shifted to the stairs, where a gloomy, visibly stressed guy appeared, smelling oddly of baby oil.
“Hey, Ed, could you watch the kid for a bit?” he tossed out, barely glancing at me. “I’ve gotta run into town, urgent.”
“Peter, how am I supposed to leave the bar? Paula’s not here yet, and Dad’s out.”
“The café’s empty. Customers won’t start trickling in until evening, and I’ll be back by then!” Peter insisted, looking at Edward with pure desperation. Even without my heightened senses, his frazzled state was obvious.
“I can watch the bar. No problem,” I chimed in, drawing their attention.
“No, that’s not how it works. I can’t do that without Dad’s okay,” Ed said, shaking his head.
“Who’ve we got here?” Peter asked, already seeming to side with me.
“I’m Nicole, trying to land a job here. No need to worry, guys. I doubt there’s enough cash in the register to tempt me, and I’ll be more useful here than either of you right now.”
“Might be a solution,” Peter muttered, frowning as he gave me a closer, more scrutinizing look. “Consider this a lucky break, Nicole. We’ll talk to Dad.”
“Cool. One more thing—do you ever rent out a room to travelers?”
“The second floor is where we live, our family,” Ed said with a shrug, exchanging a glance with Peter. “We’ve never rented out space.”
“What about the attic?” I pressed, noticing a resemblance between the two. “Are you brothers?”
“Yup. The attic’s full of junk. No way to live up there,” Ed continued to resist.
“Trust me, I’ve seen worse. I’ll take your attic, and we can clean it up together. Plus, I’ll always be close by, and I won’t be late like this Paula of yours.”
“Your initiative is starting to scare me,” Peter said, though I could see relief in his eyes. He probably already figured he’d be offloading some of his responsibilities onto me.
“You’ll get used to it!” I said, gracefully hopping off the stool and rounding the counter, grabbing a clean, dry towel. “I’ll polish the glasses, and then you can show me where to put my stuff.” Calm, authoritative. Ed just threw up his hands helplessly, accepting the situation.
The bar counter and glasses were polished to a shine, the tables and floor mopped. I was just surveying my work when a heavyset older man appeared on the horizon, looking around with the same proprietary air.
“Don’t tell me, young lady, that you’ve done all the work instead of my good-for-nothing boys. Where the hell are Ed and Paula?”
“Ed’s looking after the kid, no customers yet, and I’ve got no clue where Paula is. I tidied up, and I’m glad you’re pleased. By the way, I’m Nikki.”
“I didn’t say I was pleased. This ticks me off something fierce.”
“Well, I’m ready to help out, keep things in order. This place could clearly use a woman’s touch. Will you take me on, Mr. Carter?”
“Look at you, quick on the draw! Can’t deny you know how to work. Trial period, minimum pay,” the old man relented grudgingly, seeing that no one else seemed to care about his business today. “Nikki, huh. Alright then.”
Just then, hurried footsteps echoed from two directions at once. Ed came flying down the stairs, holding a six-month-old baby, while a flushed girl burst into the café from the street, immediately drawing the grumpy Mr. Carter’s attention.
“Ah, there you are, Miss Slacker! You’ve got no shame, Paula! You think I don’t know how many times my boys have covered for you? One more time, and I’ll fire your sorry butt! Get to work, now! And you,” he jabbed a finger at me, “I expect the same hustle from you tonight!”
“What’d he mean by that?” the girl asked, heading toward me with a curious look.
“Said I’m his right-hand woman now. Mr. Carter personally brought me in from the central department of floor-scrubbers to teach you all about quality and diligence,” I deadpanned.
“Is there really a department like that?” As the naive Paula processed it, Ed and I burst out laughing together.
“Looks like the old man took a liking to you. That’s rare. Come on, I’ll show you the attic, but you’re telling him about that yourself.”
What I saw was a sorry sight—a corner of forgotten echoes from the past, covered in gray dust and laced with cobwebs. Discarded junk, broken toys, boxes of old magazines, and piles of rags.
“Can all this be tossed?” I asked skeptically. While I surveyed the attic, charming Ed was surveying me, thinking I didn’t notice.
“If you find anything worth keeping, go for it. Need a hand?”
“Nah, I’ll manage after my shift. Pru will like it here,” I added, catching his puzzled look. “That’s my bird. So… Peter has a son?”
“Yeah. Little Jack. Please, don’t go asking Peter about it. His wife, Linda, passed away. It’s a really painful topic.”
“Got it. Gotta be sensitive with Peter.”
“How old are you, Nikki? Or is that a rude question?” He’s easy to like. You can sense a good person, just like I can smell the whiskey Mr. Carter’s gargling downstairs.
“Twenty-two. I’m not at the age where I need to hide it like some embarrassing problem. And I don’t like talking about myself either,” I said with a smile, making it clear that despite my friendliness, I keep people at arm’s length.
I barely had time to move my stuff in and apply my masking solution to my skin when Ed knocked on the door, holding my apron and name tag.
Every day, morning and evening, I spray my skin and hair with a special potion based on my grandmother’s recipe. It’s a complex brew of rare herbs that temporarily neutralizes my scent. I don’t want to be sniffed out by other wulfen before I sense them. Usually, if there are others like me in town, I leave. Or bolt. I just don’t want to get tangled up. Relations between locals and outsiders are always tense, especially if you stumble into a pack.
“Well, good day to show what you’ve got in armor, right?” Edward’s smile is so disarming. Now I get why they put him in charge of the liquor—this guy draws customers in, maybe without even realizing it. You can’t help but want to trust him, spill your guts, like people often do with bartenders.
“A girl like me isn’t scared off by drunks or troublemakers!” I shot back with a challenge, heading downstairs with determination.