Page 95 of Unnatural Fate
The entrance looked like any other bar, disused, as what we did wasn’t exactly on par with the law. There were private rooms for cards and all manner of ways to bet, but they were far from the main attraction.
The hidden basement, where we hosted an underground ring for supernatural fighting, was the main draw. All kinds of beasts, half-human and half-animal, pitted against one another. The smell of it permeated the walls. Rage drenched the carpets, and hunger echoed in the walls. Even empty, the stench of it stayed. Easy for most to ignore. The only sign they’d notice was an uncomfortable feeling upon entering.
Sadness struck me when I laid eyes on Laura, bent over the books. She had a pencil clutched between her teeth, and her soft brown hair slipped from her bun, falling in waves in her eyes. She kept trying to sweep it back behind her ears, but the strands were a little too short and came free again after a few moments. She huffed a sigh out, blowing the hair out of her eyes.
“Laura.” I kept my voice low so as not to startle her.
Her eyes stayed on the paper, and she held up a finger, in the middle of something.
I headed toward the office I kept on-site to find some shorts to pull on. Laura wouldn’t have minded my nudity, though. Wolves didn’t think of skin like humans did. Clothes were decorations, but bare was natural. We interacted so frequently after runs; from a young age, it trained us to feel comfortable with it.
When I returned, Laura sat back with a crease in her brow. “Boss?”
“You finished?”
“Just checking the numbers from last night. I think one of the bartenders is stealing.”
“Oh?” I asked.
She shrugged. “His numbers never add up, but his drawer is always on.”
“What’s not adding up?”
“Quantities after his shift.”
“Aren’t they always a little off?” At least at the bar, there was never accounting for over pours or wasted alcohol. As long as things were close.
“No, that’s the bad part. His bottles are always exactly right. It’s too clean, and he does half the service of other people who work similar shifts. Makes me think our back stock will be off, and he’s selling bottles or something.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” I had faith in her, which is why she ran this place.
“I’m so close.” She tucked the pencil behind her ear, and I absently wondered if it would come loose like the endless battle with her hair.
It made me nostalgic for a time when things were simple. It was her and me against the world, and we’d fought back-to-back to create this one. We’d build this life with our blood and sweat.
“Laura...” I didn’t know how to start this with her.
“What?” Her eyes narrowed enough that I knew she suspected why I was here.
Raf walked around me, heading to the bar. He’d hung back until now, but I felt his judgment. He wanted me to spit it out. He made himself a drink, not taking his eyes off us.
I rubbed a hand over the back of my head. “There isn’t an easy way to ask this.”
Laura stared at me, and then her gaze flickered to Raf. “Are you two here to gang up on me?” Hurt colored her tone.
“No...” But weren’t we?
“After all I’ve done for you.” She shook her head, eyes hardening.
“I’m only here to address rumors, and I brought my brother because he heard them, not me.”
“As long as we’ve known each other, and you still think you need him here?”
“He heard them,” I said again.
“I don’t give a damn what anyone heard. I’m your fucking second, and you don’t respect me enough to have a conversation alone with me.” All the hurt faded, replaced with anger.
I didn’t blame her.