15
2005 Words
Robert Montgomery
“So, you work here?”
“I volunteer,” she replies, setting down the phone.
“You don’t get paid, then?” I study her, pondering something. “Why do it at all? I doubt this is easy work.”
The caution in her eyes is unmistakable. “I like animals. I’m saving up to go to veterinary school.”
“You mentioned it. A vampire vet?” I chuckle.
When her eyes narrow, I instantly clamp my mouth shut, repentant. “I didn’t mean—”
“What’s so odd about that?” She looks miffed.
“Nothing, it’s just—”
“I am very good with animals, and I have helped Ricky with plenty of his surgeries!”
“Who’s Ricky?”
“He runs this shelter,” Charlotte shoots at me, “and he’s a very good vet. He’ll help me with my entrance exam once I finish my prerequisite courses.”
“You’re a student, as well?” I blink in surprise.
“I’m going to enroll in community college next semester.” Charlotte glowers at me, eyes flashing.
I enjoy the show of temper. “Good for you.”
She seems a little taken aback by my encouragement, and the look on her face has me asking, “What?”
“N—Nothing.” She tries to move her shoulders in a shrug. “I don’t usually get that response.”
“What kind of response do you usually get?”
Charlotte looks reluctant to answer but does so. “That I’m aiming too high. Once a waitress, always a waitress.”
Annoyance stirs within me. “What kind of bullshit is that? Don’t tell me your colleagues at the coffee shop said that! They seem to like you.”
She laughs lightly, as if the very idea is ludicrous. “Not them. I’ve never told them.”
No more information is offered, and she sits behind the front desk. “Anyway, I’m going to become a vet. I have a plan. I’m very good at planning.”
Her confidence is endearing, and I smile. “I bet you are.”
Her head shoots up. “There’s no need to be condescending.”
“I’m not,” I protest with a chuckle, getting up and bringing her cat over to her. “I truly do think you are good at planning. After all, you’ve survived without a clan all these years. That couldn’t have been an easy feat.”
Charlotte takes Mano from me, but the cat seems to be in no mood to return to her owner. Instead, she jumps to the ground, and with her tail up in the air, she wanders off. I move to pick her up again, but Charlotte shakes her head. “It’s fine. All the doors are locked. She’s probably going to go into the back office to take a nap.”
It’s just the two of us now, and the silence that falls between us is awkward.
“So,” I begin, but Charlotte cuts me off.
“Are you really going to leave me alone now?”
I blink slowly. “Is that what you want?”
Her fingers pluck at the threads on her shirt. “I told you, I just really don’t want to get involved.”
I nod. “I understand. I can guarantee that none of my people will bother you. I’ll make sure they know you have permission to work and live in my territory.”
Charlotte looks relieved and gives me a faint smile. “Thank you.”
“That doesn’t mean you won’t be seeing me from time to time,” I say, grinning. “It is the closest cafe to my office, you know. And I enjoy the baked goods and the coffee.”
“I guess that’s okay.” She gives me another small smile.
A sudden flurry of barking has us both looking toward the back of the shelter. Charlotte jumps to her feet, rushing toward the source of the sound. I follow her. She switches on a pair of dim ceiling lights in the furthest room in the back, revealing a line of cages. The barking seems to be coming from a cage in the corner, and after Charlotte opens it, she brings out a small puppy.
“There, there, Zeno. There’s a good boy.”
The puppy seems to be a mixed breed.
“How old is he?” I ask curiously, watching her pet the shivering little dog.
“A couple of months. A teenager found him on the side of the road and brought him in last week. We’re trying to find him a home, but he’s got anxiety. I don’t know if anybody will adopt him. It doesn’t help that he’s a mixed breed. People prefer pure breeds or prominent ones. These little fellas slip through the cracks.” Her hand strokes the anxious puppy’s head, and her voice is sad, a little wistful. “Nobody wants you, do they, Zeno?”
Seeing her press a kiss on the top of the quivering puppy’s head, I feel a strange stirring within my heart. “What’s going to happen to him?”
Charlotte meets my gaze, and there is a heavy sadness in her eyes. “I don’t know. Thank heavens we are not a kill shelter. We’re trying our best to get him adopted. I’m not going to think about what’s going to happen to him in the future. I’m just going to do whatever I can to make sure he gets into a good forever home.”
I hold out my finger to the puppy, who sniffs it. Suddenly, his little tail begins to wag.
“He knows you’re an Alpha,” Charlotte realizes. “He feels safe around you.”
He’s kind of cute, I muse to myself. I ask, “May I?”
She lets me hold him. Zeno can’t wait to jump into my arms and begin licking my face, his tail thumping against my arm.
Charlotte is smiling broadly when I look at her; her eyes are on the puppy. “This is the first time he’s behaved like this. He’s usually so docile and terrified. I can’t believe he likes you.”
It’s not just the puppy who’s begun to let their guard down around me, it seems.
Pleased, I pet his head. “How do you even look after one of these?”
“It’s not so hard,” Charlotte tells me. “If you have a backyard, that’s great. Otherwise, you have to take him out to relieve himself. Bring him in for a checkup at the vet every other month, give him food and water and loads of attention.”
Zeno whines and licks my chin as I rub his head. “What would I need? Like, a bed or something for him?”
“Yeah, you’ll need to get him his own bed, some chew toys, a leash—Wait.” Charlotte stops in her tracks, giving me a bewildered look. “Are you planning to adopt Zeno?”
I scratch the puppy under his chin. “If nobody wants him, I don’t mind taking him. But of course, since I don’t know the first thing about taking care of a puppy, I’ll have to come to you for guidance. That won’t be a problem, will it?”
“No,” she replies after a moment. “But if you want to adopt him, I have to fill out the paperwork, and Ricky has to give Zeno another checkup before we can hand him over.”
She seems pretty happy, and the knowledge that this little puppy is most likely going to chew through most of my furniture doesn’t seem all that bad in the face of that bright smile right now.
As Charlotte takes Zeno from me and puts him back in his cage with a few treats, my eyes keep straying toward her. She’s got a soft heart, softer than typical for her kind or even for shifters. She’s also undeniably strong, given the circumstances she has clearly overcome. She should still be wary of me, but she seems to have forgiven my intrusion into her life quite easily.
It worries me.
How is she going to survive like this? In my eyes, she’s little more than a defenseless kitten, hissing at the world when it corners her. I doubt she’d like that description of her, though. She also has pride.
I hear the faint sound of footsteps out front. “I think the delivery guy is here.”
Charlotte looks surprised. “He is?”
She can’t hear him?
Now that I think about it, I don’t know exactly why her clan considered her defective. Her healing is slow, sure. But what else?
“I heard him knock,” I lie. “You finish up here, and I’ll go get the food.”
I’m already reaching for my wallet.
When I reach the front office, a teenager is standing outside the glass door holding two plastic bags filled with containers of food. I unlock the door and step outside, not missing the look of annoyance in his eyes. “How much?”
“Twenty-four dollars, plus a ten-dollar tip.” The boy puts the bags down on the street and holds out his hand expectantly.
I raise a brow. “Why don’t you carry the food inside then, if you want that tip?”
“I don’t have to do shit.” He makes a face.
I smile pleasantly. “Then I don’t have to pay shit.”
“I’m bringing my wallet!” Charlotte calls out as she walks outside. “Fred! How’s your arm?”
Fred flushes. “Hi, Charlotte. It’s okay. I went to a doctor. He said it was just a light sprain. You don’t have to worry about me.”
Charlotte looks concerned. “You really shouldn’t be carrying anything. Tell your father you can’t do any more deliveries till the sprain heals.”
Fred looks pleased, shooting me a smug look. “I’m really strong. And I like bringing you your orders. I put in an extra order of dumplings for you.”
He whispers the last part to her, giving her a small wink.
Charlotte beams at him. “Thanks! How much is the tot—”
“I’ve got it,” I interrupt her, glancing down at the boy’s arms. There looks to be nothing wrong with them, nothing swollen whatsoever.
My eyes narrow.
This little brat.
Before I can say anything, an icy smell reaches my nose.
“Charlotte, why don’t you take these inside?” I suggest, keeping my voice pleasant. I pick up the two bags and hand them over to her in the doorway before she can protest.
She shoots me a look but thankfully doesn’t say anything. As she goes inside, I hand the boy the money, including his tip. “Where exactly is this restaurant?”
“Down the road,” he glances behind me, probably looking for Charlotte. “I was still talking to her.”
“Go.” I put my hands on his shoulders and whirl him around. “Walk.”
He huffs, and I advise in a low voice, “If I were you, I would run, kid. There was a stray dog out here earlier. He didn’t look too friendly.”
Fred looks around anxiously. “You’re not kidding?”
“Do I look like I would joke around with you? Now, go.”
He hightails it out of there, and I walk to stand in the middle of the street, my eyes on him. I see him round the bend, and then a minute later, I hear the slam of a door. I smell no blood.
My gaze darts around.
I can feel the eyes on me.
Someone is watching.
By the smell of it, it’s a vampire.
- Writer
