Time Mends (17 page)

Ashley waited until he walked off to turn on
me. “LIT? Seriously?”

“
Yeah, I like those.”
Assuming that LIT stood for Long Island Iced Tea. And basing that
assumption on the fact that I like iced tea, as long as it has lots
of sugar in it. When I saw it on the list of the ten most popular
drinks ordered in a bar, I decided it was the one for
me.

“
LIT? The drink with like
four different kinds of hard liquor in it?”

Four different kinds of hard liquor? Crap. I
should have done better research.

“
Yep. LITs and Scout. They
go together like rum and Coke.” Which was totally what I should
have ordered. At least it only had rum.

“
Here you ladies go,”
Bobby said in his adorable twang. “Enjoy.”

There was little chance of that
happening.

I took a tentative first sip and had to
fight the urge to spit it out. It tasted like liquid nasty and
burned the entire way down.

“
How is your
LIT?”

“
Good.” I cleared my
throat, hoping that would make the pain stop. “Bobby mixes a mean
drink.” So mean it had teeth and wasn’t afraid to use
them.

She clanked her glass of what looked like
harmless orange juice against mine. “To a night of fun.”

“
To us,” I murmured
through gritted teeth. She took a big swig of her drink. I braced
myself and did the same. Amazingly, the second swig was easier. And
the third even easier. By the time I started my second glass, I
could manage it without making a face.

“
Maybe you should slow
down a little,” Ashley said as I took a big gulp. “Downgrade to a
more light-weight drink? You would like Amaretto Sours.”

“
I like these,” I said,
shouting to be heard over the band that had begun to play some
music that sounded like Billy Joe Armstrong and Barbara Streisand
got together and had a tone-deaf child. “And I feel
fine.”

“
Really, Scout. You should
drink some water or something.”

Now, that did sound like a good idea. Water
would keep a hang-over away. I didn’t want a hang-over.

“
Bobby, I need water and
another LIT,” I said as I chugged down half my current
glass.

“
Scout,
really—”

“
I’m fine. Sheriously.” I
giggled. “I said sheriously, didn’t I?”

“
Yes, because you’re
drunk.”

“
It’s just a buzz. I can’t
get drunk. Who has ever heard of a drunk werewolf?”

“
Is this some
Twilight
thing? Because
you know I skipped that whole craze.”

I laughed again and the motion made me
realize my bladder was on the verge of bursting. “I gotta pee!
Where’s the bathroom in this place?”

She nodded to a dark corner on the other
side of the room. McGuire's was a fairly posh place for such a
rural area. The big, open room was divided into three areas - the
bar, the dance floor/stage, and a section that reminded me of a
coffee house with its plush couches and dark wood tables. I was
trying to slide between two of the couches when a coffee table
stuck out its leg and tripped me. I managed to not land, as Grandma
Donovan would have phrased it, ass over tea kettle on the floor.
Instead, I sort of just sat down… in the lap of some guy with a
crew cut.

“
Sorry. The table was out
to sabotage me,” I slurred as I waited for the room to right
itself.

“
It’s alright.” He looked
way too young to be hanging out at a club, but I wasn’t one to
talk. He also seemed to be glowing red.

“
Hey, you’ve got elf
ears.” I touched the tip of an ear that come up into a little
point. “How cute. Hey, you’re not really an elf are you? Do you
work for Santa Claus?”

“
N-n-no,
ma’am.”

“
Are you sure? You can
tell me.” I leaned over and whispered in his pointy ear. “I’m
special too.”

One of the elf’s friends, a squatty looking
guy whose parents obviously didn’t love him enough to spend money
on an orthodontist, was ogling my pasty white legs which were
sprawled, rather unladylike, over the elf’s own set of legs. I
quickly corrected that problem. “You certainly look special,” he
said with a wink.

“
I’m not talking to you,
ogre. Me and the elf were conversing privately.”

The ogre boy chuckled and punched his friend
on the shoulder. “Hear that, Cayton? She wants to converse with
you. Privately.”

Just when you thought there was no way a
person could turn any redder, the elf proved you wrong.

“
Hey, maybe you’re a
Shifter and you Change into a pointy-eared animal. Are there fox
Shifters? You could be a fox.” Foxes are red.

“
I-I-I’m just a soldier,
ma’am.”

I knew lots of soldiers, but most of them
were pompous asses. Maybe the “not an elf or a fox” boy was
different because of his stutter. I wondered if Toby would have
been a bit more bearable with a stutter.

“
You’re not an
elf?”

“
No, ma’am.”

“
And you would not Shift
into a fox, not in a box, not wearing socks?”

“
N-n-no,
ma’am.”

I sighed. “Then I have no use for you.” I
tried to get up and only managed it with some assistance. “Thanks,”
I said once I was fully erect. “It was nice meeting you and your
cute ears.”

He tried to stammer out a reply, but he was
having all sorts of problems with his stutter. I felt bad for him.
I hoped the other soldiers didn’t make fun of him too much.

I made it to the bathroom without further
incident, unless you count having trouble turning the door knob,
which I do not. I decided to cut back to the bar through the dance
floor to avoid any further run ins with the ornery furniture. I was
winding my way through a mass of bodies I’m sure hadn’t been there
just moments before when I got the feeling someone was watching me.
I looked around and found a pair of grey eyes trained on me.

“
Excuse me. Let me
through.” I started pushing people aside, no longer concerned about
being polite. I had more important issues to address. “Move. I have
to talk to him. I have to tell him I’m sorry.” Why wouldn’t people
let me through?!?!

He was already gone by the time I made it
through the crowd.

“
Who are you looking for?”
Ashley asked, sneaking up beside me. I cursed the new moon and the
noise of the club. I hate being snuck up on.

“
No one. I thought I saw
someone I knew once.”

“
Well, I’ve found you
someone new to know.” She wound an arm around my back and led me
back towards the bar. “I need you to do me a favor,
okay?”

“
Sure.” Why not? Unless it
involved sacrificing babies, I was game.

“
Can you try really hard
to be nice? I know it’s hard for you, but if you could be a little
less Scout-like, I would really appreciate it. These guys are
super-cute, and I don’t want you scaring them away.”

I was offended. “I’m always nice. And I
don’t scare people.”

Ashley smiled sweetly and patted my back
where her hand was resting. “Of course not, sweetie. You’re always
sunshine and rainbows.”

I was going to sunshine and rainbows her
face if she didn’t watch it.

I was also going to have to get her to visit
an optometrist. After seeing what she qualified as “super-cute” I
was fairly certain her lasik surgery had worn off and she needed to
reconsider the glasses she ditched years ago.

“
Scout.”

“
Makya.” No growl. No
right hook. See? Friendly.

Ashley’s face fell. “You guys know each
other?”

“
Makya is Jase’s cousin.”
And a member of the Hagan Pack. I could take him, but he would call
Toby faster than you could say “severe punishment”. And as Bambi’s
mama proved, I was incapable of shutting him up
permanently.

“
Yeah, me and Harpy here
go waaaay back.”

Or, then again, maybe I could manage it.

“
Oh, so you’re that
Makya,” Ashley said, grabbing onto his bicep with the hand that
wasn’t already hooked into what I hoped was the belt loop and not
the pocket of the poor creature who must have been Makya’s friend.
“Scout has told me soooo much about you.”

I gave her a
What the crap?
look. She
responded with a
Play along or
else!
glare.

Makya’s smile was feral. “That’s our Scout.
Quite the little chatter box.”

Ashley tilted her head back and gave a
tinkling laugh which I knew for a fact she practiced just as Bobby
placed a fresh glass of booze in front of me. I vowed to give him
the entire contents of my wallet as a tip.

“
So, you want to
dance?”

He had to wait for my reply since I was a
little busy guzzling down some alcohol goodness. “Umm…not really,”
I said as I wiped my upper-lip. I felt Ashley’s boney elbow dig
into my rib. “I meant, I’m not really a very good dancer.”

“
Come on. It’ll be
fun.”

“
I don’t
really—”

Makya’s eyes narrowed. “I want to dance,
Scout.” He jerked me against him in a move I hadn’t seen coming.
“It’ll be in your best interest to do what I want, Wolf Girl,” he
breathed into my ear. “I would hate to have to tell my Packmates
about how you broke my heart. They might take exception to you
being outside of your territory.”

In my head I called him every single bad
name I could think of, including a few I made up on the spot.

“
Okay. I’ll
dance.”

He pulled back just enough so I could see
the smugness bleeding out of every pore on his face. “Don’t make it
sound like you’re agreeing to be tortured. My ego is a fragile
thing, you know.”

If I dropped his body into the lake near the
dam no one would ever find it.

“
I would love to dance
with you.”

“
Better, but I’m going to
need a smile, okay?”

Hell no. “This better?” I asked, using every
ounce of energy I had to pull up the corners of my mouth. Those
people who say it takes more muscles to frown than smile are in
serious danger of having their pants catch on fire.

Surprisingly, dancing with Makya wasn’t as
bad as I imagined. I’m normally very self-conscious about the whole
moving to music thing, but the band was loud and rhythmic and my
body seemed to respond of its own accord. Since Makya just danced
and didn’t run his stupid mouth, it was almost bearable. That was
until the band started playing a song that was less pounding and
more sultry. Makya closed the space between us, and soon his hands
were attempting to be everywhere at the same time.

I tried to move away and redirect his hands
to a more appropriate place, like my waist, but they just couldn’t
seem to take a hint. “That’s a no touching zone,” I said as one of
his hands brazenly groped my breast.

He ignored me and slid a finger underneath
the plunging neckline of my dress. You could barely hear the slap
over the band, but I’m certain he felt it.

His face was already turning red. I felt
confident he would be sporting a hand-shaped mark on his cheek for
at least the remainder of the night. “You bitch!” he growled,
already shifting into a boxer stance.

I attempted to do the same, but there was a
reason Mike Tyson didn’t wear a dress and heels in the ring.

“
Back off,” came a command
from over my right shoulder. Even with the multitude of sweaty,
alcohol drenched bodies crammed around me, I could smell his
familiar cinnamon flavored scent.

Another growl, this one accompanied by a
snapping of teeth. “Make me.”

I could feel Charlie tense
behind me, and then a wave of
something
washed over me, causing
the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. I knew the moment
it hit Makya. His eyes, which were trained defiantly over my
shoulder, widened and then dropped their gaze to the floor. He
looked back up almost immediately, but his eyes focused on me
instead of Charlie. “This is your only free pass, Wolf Girl. Cross
the line one more time and there will be no mercy.”

“
But there will be more
cheesy lines, right?”

Makya swung, but I managed to get my face
out of the way, making certain he accomplished nothing more than
catching Kit’s attention. Less than a minute later, Kit and his
tree trunk arms were asking Makya to leave and suggesting he never
come back.

When there was nothing left to see, I turned
around and looked at Charlie for the first time. Most everyone in
the club had on designer fashions, trying to pull off some look
they found in a magazine, but Charlie managed to look sexier and
more sophisticated than any of them in his plain black T-shirt and
well-worn jeans.

I stared into those green eyes I avoided for
so long and almost choked on the desire welling up inside. “Dance
with me,” I commanded

The muscles in Charlie’s jaw tightened, but
he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me towards him. We
quickly found a rhythm, our bodies swaying as our eyes stayed
locked together. I focused on the sound of his breathing, the
beating of his heart, both of which matched the beat of the
music.

“
Kiss me.”

He hesitated, and I thought for a moment
that he wouldn’t do it, but then his lips were on mine, hard and
unmoving. I pressed against him and eventually his lips parted and
began to work against mine. An onlooker might have seen raw passion
as we clung to one another, but it was desperation driving our
hands and tongues.