She Will Be Mine (New Horizon Book 2)

Chapter 8: Jason

In the morning, I have to fight the urge to grab my phone first thing and shoot Ronnie a good morning text. I know I did good letting her send the first one yesterday and then backing away when she decided to end that conversation, and I’m not about to blow it. I’ve resolved to take this at her speed by letting her lead, so now I have to wait for her to make the next move.

Instead, I get up and take a long, hot shower, spending extra time shaving and primping, getting every individual little hair perfectly in place. Then I make my bed and clean up my room, unpack some of my things and hang them in the closet, and even step out onto the little patio area accessed through the rear door of my room so I can do some stretches and exercises.

After all that, the time on my phone tells me it has barely been an hour since I got up, and there are still a few hours until lunchtime. My fingers itch to bring up my conversation with Ronnie and send her a new message just as much as they did when I started, and I still have the rest of the day to get through.

Coffee. That’s what I need. There’s a cute little coffee maker in my room, and I busy myself with preparing a cup. And then I take the whole thing apart, cleaning each individual piece in the sink in the bathroom for no other reason than it’s something to do. I need some way to pass the time. Back home, I’m used to being busy from sunup to sundown with all the responsibilities that come with my job.

And with that, a light bulb goes off in my head. I should find myself a job around here, some way to help pass the time while I’m hanging back and letting my relationship move at the speed of Ronnie. She’s busy with her own things, and I should be too. I won’t last long just waiting around like this.

I should probably also join a gym somewhere nearby to help me work out all this physical angst, and to keep myself in shape while I’m away from the pack and the daily training sessions. While I’m at it, I need to look up that woman Aly told me about, Clarice the witch. It makes me a little nervous since I don’t know when Ronnie will be there, and I don’t want her to think I’m stalking her or anything. I could use the help, though, if Aly is right about Clarice. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to scope out this area a bit and start coming up with ideas of places I can take Ronnie when she seems to be craving a getaway.

With my new plan in place, I decide to text Aly, since she has spent more time with humans than I have and might have some insights about how to blend in, and how to describe and present myself to a prospective employer.

Do you have any pointers for how I should fill out a job application? And will you vouch for me if I put you down as my former employer?

You don’t need to do that. I’ll make sure your expenses are covered.

I’m going to go insane if I just sit around waiting. I NEED a job. Unless you’ve come up with some way for me to work for you remotely?

Good point, and I can’t do that. It would involve sending sensitive files back and forth over unsecured connections. But working for a coffee house will keep you on your toes, and the scent is strong enough to cover up all the artificial smells of all the crap that humans like to drench themselves in.

Good idea. But you still haven’t answered my original questions.

So demanding. Give me like twenty minutes and I’ll send you something to help you.

As promised, it’s not long after that she sends me a document filled with helpful descriptions and phrases to use when talking to humans about where I come from, what I’ve done for work, and my skills and experience. And then she lists the information she wants me to put down for previous employment, including her name and contact information.

Thank you, Alpha Aly. This is perfect.

With my cheat sheet folded up and securely stowed away in my wallet, I gather up my keys and sunglasses and head out, ready to face the day. Hopefully, I don’t look as much like an imposter as I feel.

*************************

A couple hours later, I’ve filled out employment applications at the three coffee houses in the town where I’m staying, joined the local gym and signed up for a kickboxing class, and made it over to Ronnie’s hometown where I put in another application at this cute little café on Main Street. That one is a risk, and I know it. Not only is it dangerously close to my mate’s stomping grounds, meaning we might bump into each other accidentally and unplanned … wait, I actually like that idea. It’s a risk, but one I could explain away, and one that might mean more chances to see her.

I’ll have to run it by Aly to see what she thinks of it before accepting the job, assuming the manager even calls me, but I’m silently hoping that’s the job I get. It will be less ideal than what Aly suggested, though. They serve more than coffee there, meaning I’ll likely have to do more than just rapidly cranking out coffee orders over a counter that separates me from the humans. But on the other hand, they’re looking for a prep cook and a dishwasher. I figure there’s no better way to learn my way around a kitchen and improve my culinary skills than working in a professional kitchen.

Now, it’s time to move on to visiting Clarice at her shop. I can’t help wondering what I’ll find in a shop of wonders, since I’ve never been to such a place and Aly didn’t give me many details. I know the woman’s a witch, though, so I’m guessing that what I’m about to discover will turn out to be a lot of stuff I know nothing about.

I turn down the side street that my GPS navigation directs me to, and it doesn’t take me long to spot the place. It helps that there’s a big, gaudy sign in the front yard announcing it. The sign is ugly, but what is most interesting about it is the part where it states in plain print that Clarice is a witch and lists the services she offers. She’s also a self-proclaimed “Supernatural Expert.” Has this woman never heard of a thing called hunters?

There’s a smaller sign that I notice once I get out of my car, and it directs me down a sidewalk that runs alongside the house and leads to the back, so I follow it. I find it strange that Clarice’s business model seems to consist of two parts: proudly displaying a giant eyesore of a sign out front, and hiding the actual shop at the back of a large, plain-looking house. The two strategies seem to directly contradict each other, and yet, I have to admit it kind of works. I’m here, aren’t I?

Things only get stranger when I step inside. Opening the door sets off a sound that reminds me of windchimes. It’s mystical and would be inviting if it weren’t so sudden and directly overhead. I suppose humans wouldn’t mind it, though.

Just inside the door, a black cat is sleeping curled on top of a shelf, enjoying the rays of sunlight streaming through the window. I expect the cat to immediately start hissing, which is what pretty much all cats do to supernaturals, especially werewolves, but this one doesn’t. She gets up as soon as she notices me come in, and makes a beeline for me so she can rub against my upper arm from where she perches on the nearest shelf.

“Don’t mind her,” a man who suddenly appears behind the counter ahead of me speaks up. “She’s used to strangers coming in and out of here and cozies up to pretty much everyone, but if you’d rather she didn’t, just tell her to lay down, and she will.”

The cat seems to be making an exceptional effort to sniff me and figure out my scent, which I suppose is the next best thing to hissing at me. If the man is right that she’s used to strangers, that could explain why she’s been friendlier than a cat should be with a werewolf, but she’s still being cautious because she can tell there’s something off about my scent.

Speaking of scents, I expected the man’s scent to waft over to me by now, but it hasn’t. Well, it has, but it isn’t at all what I expected. He just smells … cold. He’s not human, that’s for sure. Could he be …?

“Alright, I can see we’re at an impasse and equally suspicious of each other,” the man interrupts my thoughts, but he doesn’t sound hostile. More curious than anything. “I suspect I know what you are by your scent and the way you’re sniffing the air like that, and I also suspect that you’ve never met one of my kind before because you don’t seem to have figured me out yet.”

I didn’t mean to be so obvious about sniffing him. That’s concerning, considering that I intend to work around humans soon. I guess discretion is a skill I still need to work on.

“I’m sorry, I just … why do you smell like a freezer?” I can’t help questioning him in response.

He already knows I’m not human, he’s made that apparent, but it bothers me that I can’t figure him out. I’m beginning to suspect that he’s a vampire, though all I know of them comes from books rather than actual encounters.

The man lets out a genuine laugh of amusement that starts in his belly, and I can feel my face heat up. Why is it that every time I try to talk to someone around here, I just end up humiliating myself?

“I might just answer that for you, but first I need you to do something for me,” he responds once he has composed himself.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but I just remembered something,” I cut him off before he gets a chance to tell me what he needs me to do. “My friend sent me here, and she told me to give her name. Although, she did also say to talk to Clarice, but I feel like taking a chance on you."

"Alright," the man chuckles, seeming more amused by me than suspicious at this point. "Who's your friend?"

"Her name is Alyssa Bentley, and she told me that my mate likes to come here and hang out with Clarice,” I explain.

“Wolf,” I hear a female voice speak from behind me, startling me because I didn’t hear or smell anyone else come in. “From Aly’s pack, I would guess. Who’s your mate, boy?”

I turn and catch sight of a middle-aged woman with long, brown hair and green eyes. The strangest part about her is that she has no scent whatsoever. None. Not human, not anything. Not even the freezer smell of the man behind the counter. On a whim, I glance over at where I left the cat and realize it has disappeared, scent and all. And it finally clicks.

“You’re Clarice,” I say, my voice coming out sounding like I’m in awe of her.

Maybe I am. That was a pretty neat trick, shapeshifting into a cat so she could scent me and then transforming into her illusory form to hide her natural mage aspects, including her scent. As I feel all the clues piecing themselves together in my brain, I've never been gladder to be a bookworm.

“I am,” she chuckles, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “And you are?”

“Jason Levitt, and yes I’m from New Horizon. I’m Aly’s Gamma, in fact. And to answer your question from before, my mate is Veronica Koppel, or Ronnie as most people know her.”

Recognition flashes across her eyes, and her smile widens as she appraises me more closely.

“So, you’re the mysterious mate then. She has mentioned you, though I don’t think she realizes when she’s doing it. You seem to be on her mind a lot more than she would care to admit, I think,” Clarice tells me.

And I’m so glad she did, and so glad I listened to Aly and came here despite my reservations. Hearing that one simple thing from someone who knows Ronnie means so much, and makes the trip worth it even if I gain nothing else from my adventure.

“Thank you for telling me that,” I say with genuine gratitude, taking a deep calming breath and savoring her revelation.

“Of course. What can I do for you, Jason? You don’t strike me as the type who would be here for a reading, or for supplies.”

“I’d say that’s an accurate impression,” I chuckle nervously, anticipating how I might sound when I give the honest answer to her question. “I came because Aly told me you might be able to help me. With Ronnie, I mean. I mostly just fumble around in the dark, trying to figure out how best to handle her without scaring her away, but Aly said she spends a lot of time with you, and you might have some insights.”

She considers me quietly for a few moments longer, seeming to deliberate whether she can help me in the way I’m asking.

“Hmm, I might,” she says at last. “Or rather, I have plenty of insight, but I have yet to decide whether to share it with you.”

“Is there anything I can do to sway your opinion of me?”

“Certainly. You can start with those boxes over there,” she points to some wooden crates that are stacked up off to the side.

“What do you mean?” I have to ask, feeling stupid because she makes it seem like the answer should be obvious.

But I have no idea what to do with those boxes or any of their contents, which all look delicate and breakable, and distinctly witchy. I know next to nothing about handling witchy things.

“Good, old-fashioned manual labor, boy,” the man, who still hasn’t revealed who or what he is, laughs as he demonstrates someone bending down to pick up something heavy.

Oh, I get it. A big, strong werewolf just walked in her door begging for her help, and she recognized an opportunity to get some work done without straining her own back.

But something in me is saying there’s more to this than that. I think it’s a test. She wants to see what I’m made of and learn more about me before telling me anything more about Ronnie.

Alright, Clarice. I see you. Stand back and watch me slay this.