Chapter 1

Uncontrollable drunken chatter and laughter rented the air in the overcrowded, foul smelling little building. Mia stared at the watch on the wall and groaned. It was only nine in the night and one of the bar’s regulars was already too drunk to control.

The old man, Jim, usually held his alcohol for at least another two hours before he reached this level. She could only guess that he had skipped out on his lunch again. Probably on his breakfast as well. Unless it had been a liquid one of similar properties as the glasses of liquor he had been consuming for hours, Mia thought. Damn, this was going to make the next four hours before closing time hellish, she grumbled silently to herself.

Mia grabbed a rug and wiped down the counter even as another patron shouted an order from the other end of the bar. From the slur in the voice, she could tell the person didn’t need another drop, just like Jim.

Mai had been working at Red Eyes bar for the last six months. It wasn’t a job she would have chosen or recommended to any sane person. One didn’t need thick skin to work in a little bar in the middle of a tiny shitty town. They needed a fucking brain transplant for even considering the job in the first place. That said a lot about her for not only having taken the job, but staying for six entire months.

A bunch of courageous, bored young men seated in the corner of the bar chose that moment to entertain the entire bar with their Bluetooth speaker. Mia heard the tunes of Nick Jonas and Nicki Minaj bom bidi bom cut through the stale air. The corner of her lips twitched even as she fought a smile. These guys were definitely trying to irritate the older regular folks in the bar. And for their trouble, the entire bar turned and glared at them, but amazingly no one said a word or demanded the music turned off immediately.

Mia focused her attention back on pouring another drink for a woman who clearly looked like she didn’t need it, but hey, who was she to judge? She placed the glass of whisky with a tiny ice cube floating in it on the counter in front of the woman and moved away to attend to another customer.

The routine was always the same. She knew all the regulars, knew all their stories too. It was true what they said. A bartender was also a therapist. People came into the bar loaded with their problems and they all expected her to listen to them without judgement. Most of the time, she did. After all, it offered some form of entertainment.

The only problem was, Mia was also a werewolf, but of course, nobody knew that. So, that meant she could tell when someone was just spinning a story to get some sympathy or get into her pants. In short, it was hard to hide anything from her. Mia thought of the woman she had just served, offered the perfect example. She could smell the arousal from the woman all the way from where she now stood attending to another drunk client. Mia knew for a fact that the woman’s husband was currently seated three tables away and not only looked bored, but smelled like it, too. Shooting the woman a glance from the corner of her eye, Mia realized the woman’s state had nothing to do with her husband and everything to do with the young men playing music in the corner.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath. The woman looked old enough to be one of the boy’s mothers, but neither she nor the boys seemed to care about that tiny detail. Mia watched as one guy jerked his head inconspicuously towards the restrooms. Barely ten seconds later, the woman placed her glass back on the counter and started walking in the direction.

Mia shot a look at the poor husband nursing his fifth or sixth bottle of beer. He looked just like all the ordinary folks in there every night. Over fifty years old, with a grim expression on his face that told of long hours of work and little pay. He looked like life had slapped him around one too many times.

Mia looked away. It was none of her business. Her job was to serve drinks. She did her job, and she got paid, simple. Besides, she had her own problems. Ones that made cheating wives look like a joke for kids. Her problems kept her awake most nights and gave her nightmares on the nights when she actually managed to shut her eyes.

The music faded from the bluetooth speaker before another started, filling the bar with bass loud enough to vibrate the glasses on the tables and counter. Mia cringed and bit her tongue. At least no one would be able to talk with all that noise, she thought. But it still hurt her ears.

After a moment, however, she managed to tune out the noise and her thoughts wandered back to her problems. She was a runaway. And two wolf packs were looking under every rock, searching for her, and things wouldn’t be pretty if they found her. 

Nope, cheating wives and ignorant husbands were not her problem. She continued to serve and looked the other way.

An hour before closing time, the front door opened. Mia immediately looked up. She had worked here for six months; she knew the routine and no one ever came in an hour before closing. Her heart froze with fear that they had found her despite all the effort she had put into staying off the radar. Her feet were already moving towards the back when the person who had entered came into view.

It took her a few seconds to confirm the man that had entered was not a werewolf. Her heart resumed its normal beat with relief. She moved back to the counter and began to wipe the surface as she watched the stranger make his way through the tables and drunk patrons.

Her wolf within her purred. Well, her human side could also appreciate that the man was indeed good to look at. That was a rare commodity in these parts. Mia was sure if the man had been in the bar half an hour earlier, the married woman would have picked him over the boy she had taken to the restrooms in the back.

For a human, the man was quite a specimen. Even in the lowlights of the bar, she could make out the muscled body under the black leather jacket the man wore. His blue jeans fit him like a glove and the man actually had gloves on, which he removed as he approached the counter where she stood, trying not to stare. 

He was easily six feet tall. His dark brown hair was plastered to his scalp from sweat, which she could smell clearly above all the foul odors in the place. He smelled like fresh air, spice and motor oil. Quite some combination. 

He reached the counter, and his chocolate brown eyes smiled at her.

“Hi there,” he said easily and took the stool that was vacant. He had a firm voice, one that managed to be heard above the music and chatter.

Mia snapped out of her appraisal and gave the man a nod. “What can I get you?”

Without warning, the man’s eyes lowered to her chest for a second before he quickly lifted his eyes back to her face. 

Red fiery anger began a slow flow through her veins. The pervert. He had looked at her as though she had just offered herself as part of the menu. Her hand tightened on the rag she used to wipe the counter and glared at him.

Asher cleared his throat. He had no idea what had just gotten into him. And unfortunately for him, the woman had noticed his slip. Maybe this resulted from months without sex; he was now checking out the bartender in the shitty bar in the middle of nowhere. Not that she wasn’t good enough to look at. Gosh, how had someone like her ended up in such a dump? He wondered.

She was a beautiful young lady. Her beauty was further emphasized by the long black hair she left loose over her shoulders. The tips of her hair were dyed red; it made her look hot and just a little bit wild. Of their own volition, his eyes traveled her body again for a quick second. She had a lean build, but her breasts, which he hadn’t been able to resist a peek at, were generous enough to make a man have dirty thoughts. Her caramel colored eyes, which now glared at him, were mesmerizing. Asher had to give himself a mental slap to get his mouth to form words.

“Just a coke, please,” he ordered. 

Five seconds later, she placed a bottle in front of him with just a little more force than was necessary. Then she walked away and went to fill some orders on the other end of the counter.

Asher took the opportunity to draw in some air and clear his head. He took a drink from his bottle and watched the bartender, while trying not to be too obvious about it, and he was probably failing miserably.

Actually, he knew he was failing when a drunk old man next to him poked his shoulder with a finger and leaned in to whisper, not so quietly, something in his ear.

“Don’t hold your breath over that one, sonny. She doesn’t give it to anyone… I should know… I have tried several times to get it, but she just says ‘no’.” The man shook his head and drank the last of the brown liquor in his glass. 

To Asher’s horror, not only had the man said it loud enough for the woman and half the bar to hear, the old man went a step further and raised his hand to get her attention and shouted at top of his voice. “Isn’t that right, Mia? Your legs are slammed shut tighter than the nuts on a heavy duty tractor.”

Asher took a large gulp of his coke and wished the floor would open and swallow him whole. Mia; at least he knew her name. She glared at him and walked back very slowly.

“Why are you discussing my legs?” she asked.

“I wasn’t,” Asher immediately said with a placating raised hand.

The old drunk man either didn’t realize how pissed she was, or simply didn’t care. He carried on as though whatever he was saying was completely normal and deserved everyone’s undivided attention. Which he, unfortunately, already had.

“Mia, dear, don’t bite the young man’s head off,” he slurred. “He was just appreciating your beauty, and I was just offering him a little advice.” 

The old man then placed a hand on Asher’s shoulder and leaned in close to his ear. Why the old man bothered to get closer, Asher wondered, because he still didn’t lower his voice. “I bet you are hard as a rock in your pants right now… have you seen those tits?” He shook his head. “Wait till you see the ass she got… you will blow a load in your pants.”

“Okay!” Asher exclaimed and abruptly stood from the stool and stepped away from the counter. He moved so fast, he nearly caused the drunk old man to lose balance and fall off his own stool. As far as Asher was concerned, that would have been a small price to pay for the man’s inappropriate words.

The woman in question looked at him as though she wished they were somewhere in the woods alone, so she could kill him and bury his body. He was only slightly consoled when he saw she shot the same look at the old man. Who was now laughing and demanding another drink.

“I think you have had enough, Jim,” she said through her teeth. 

Mia looked at the watch on the wall, half an hour to closing time. She took a deep breath. She only had to make it through another thirty minutes than she was done for the day. Her eyes landed on the handsome human who still stood away from the counter and seemed unsure of what to do. 

Mia glared at him. He wasn’t so innocent. He may have not said a word, but she could smell his interest in her in his scent. Arousal. It was thick and screamed from all his pores. It was obvious he found her attractive, and he wanted her.