Page 8 of Rescued By the Beast
"Sandra, table two!" The witch mixologist calls me, and I go over to take the order.
"Thank you," I say, but she is already turning away, heading for the shelves displaying a collection of unusual bottles filled with shiny, steaming or strangely viscous liquids.
"A Bubbling Blood and a Blood Shake," I announce, placing the drinks on the table of a demon and a vampire.
The brass bell above the door rings, announcing new customers. I walk between the irregular tables, serving the newly arrived humans. Few mortals venture here on their own; most only find this place through the company of a supernatural being or by accident. To the rest of the world, a spell makes the tavern look abandoned, with dusty windows.
The newcomers look around, asking for vampires. From the look on their faces, they want to be the drink rather than order one.
"Sweetie, are you okay?" the mixologist asks as she hands me other orders, after calling me several times. "You seem distracted today."
Damn, I need to hide it better.
"Yes, just a little tired." I force a casual smile, trying to sound carefree.
"A few extra hours of sleep can work wonders. I hope you feel better tomorrow."
"Thanks, I will."
But I know I won't be any better, my mind races to the countdown, I have two days to pay the rent.
If I don't, I'll be back on the streets or I'll have to take measures I promised myself I would never consider again.
The idea of being a street cat again, breaking into houses in search of food, turns my stomach.
I did it to survive, but I thought I would never sink so low again. Still, it's better than the alternative — one that cost me much more than my pride. It cost me my dignity. The cause of the rumours and disgusting looks directed at me.
Desperation led me to agree to go out with some of the tavern's regulars, just to ensure a good meal. I made it clear from the outset that the encounters would be nothing more than that; at most, a few kisses, and nothing else.
Some men were gentlemen, while others... well, not so much.
Last week, I gave in to the pressure from one of them.
He was a rabbit shapeshifter, new to Salem, and during the three dates we had, he treated me like I was someone important. He took me to fancy restaurants and made me feel special in a way I didn't know how to handle. And it was in that moment of vulnerability that I felt a strange obligation to reciprocate, as if I owed him something in return.
On the third date, I gave in. I let him take me to his house.
I only found out he was married when his wife showed up unexpectedly, arriving ahead of schedule for the move. She caught us at the exact moment we were taking our clothes off.
I fled in my animal form, leaving behind both my clothes and my dignity.
I promised myself I would never put myself in that kind of situation again.
The woman, who I discovered was a witch, found out where I work and showed up the following night, threatening me right here, in front of everyone.
Char, my boss, said that if she continued, she would be banned from the tavern, only then did she calm down and leave.But that doesn't mean she hasn't come back, or that she hasn't been giving me threatening looks ever since.
Right now, the couple arrives and sits at table seven.
The woman's deadly stare meets mine, and my stomach tightens. I quickly look away, but I feel my cheeks burning.
Just when I think my day couldn't get any worse...
I turn my back and approach Luther.
"Can you do me a little favour?" I ask, with a begging look.
Luther raises an eyebrow, flashing a lazy smile that makes half the patrons give him absurd tips. His silver eyelashes and the provocative sparkle of his blue eyes are almost mesmerising.
