Present
Sheridan
“You okay?” Luka asks.
I set down the bottle with exaggerated gentleness even though I want to yell and scream and cry. It’s amateur night at the club, and a bunch of biker cats surround the cage, yelling for or at one of their friends. Trey’s nowhere to be seen. Since our meeting in the office, he’s avoided me.
And even though I’ve spent the night peering into dark corners, looking for evidence of vampire/drug activity, I’ve seen nothing. Not even a flash of fang. I’m busting my hump pouring drinks and laughing at lame pickup lines, and I won’t even have something to report to my pack. I need a t-shirt: I visited Shifter Fight Club and all I got was beer spilled on my corset dress.
“Fine.” I smile a little when he pours me a shot. Luka’s not a bad shifter bartender—
