Chapter 7 Roman 6
The shop was full, it had been for days. Not that Rory could complain, but she was officially rushed off her feet from open to close every day.
Full of shifters.
Out of town shifters.
Wolves from Roman’s pack were sent to watch over her, and even though she flopped into bed each night exhausted, she really couldn’t complain. They really could put away some food, meaning her daily takings had almost trebled, and that was a good thing. But there was no sight of Roman. Not since that night he had held her in his arms and let her sleep. He had been gone before she had opened her eyes that morning and she hadn’t heard a word from him since. Not like her husband who had texted her one simple message.
“He can’t be with you all the time.”
Creepy ass ex-husband had been watching her house, he had watched Roman leave and knew she was alone. Rory should have been terrified, but for some reason, she wasn’t. Maybe it had something to do with the wolves that had started turning up that day. It seemed her little bakery was now the unofficial packhouse for a bunch of shifters that didn’t even live close by. Now Rory didn’t know much about wolves or wolf shifters, but she was pretty sure they were territorial, and this most definitely wasn’t their territory.
She just hoped it wouldn’t cause trouble for Roman in the long run. With everything going on, she wasn’t really in the mood for some shifter brawl to erupt in her little shop. No, she paused as she wiped down the counter, she was being silly. There was no way Roman would allow that to happen. Not when he was the one to send them here. For her protection as well, and they did make her feel safer. In work hours at least.
“Hello.”
Glancing up she smiled, another shifter but somehow this one was different. For one he was meeting her eyes. None of the wolves would look at her face at all, they kept their eyes downward. At first, it had been a little unnerving, but it quickly became apparent that it was a respectable thing. Roman was their Alpha, and she was his woman. Mate…whatever he thought of her as. It made sense that they would show her the same respect. And who knew, maybe he had ordered them to keep their eyes to themselves.
It sounded like something he would say.
But not this guy, this guy looked her full in the face. His eyes met hers, crinkling in the corners before they swept over the rest of her. A grin erupted over his face.
“Hi,” Rory knew she was turning red; this guy might meet her eyes, but he had been checking her out just seconds before and it was pretty obvious he approved. “What can I get you?”
His unnaturally sea-green eyes roved over the cakes on display. Yeah, he was definitely a shifter. No humans had eyes that colour. Like tropical waters. Today they were calm, but Rory had a feeling that, like the tropical seas they reminded her of, this man could get deadly pretty quickly. She just couldn’t put her finger on what he was. Not wolf, though he was as tall as Roman, though not as wide through the shoulders. Probably not a bear, all the bears she had ever met had been much thicker. Which made sense in a totally weird way.
“Coffee.”
“Latte, cappac…?” She didn’t get to finish.
“No.” his voice held a trace of disgust. As if the thought of drinking some frothy coffee totally offended his manhood. Rory stifled a giggle. “Coffee, black.”
“Like your soul?” Rory threw the joke over her shoulder without thinking. What the hell was wrong with her, that she would speak to a customer she didn’t know like that.
A loud laugh, and he held out a hand to her. A huge black rose was tattooed across it and every finger had a ring on. She shook it lightly. “I’m Reaper”
Rory took a step back. Reaper? What kind of name was Reaper?
“And yes, I’ll take it black like my soul.” He winked at her. Making her laugh. It was a nice change to actually be able to have a fun conversation with a shifter for once. Her giggle had drawn several pairs of eyes from the tables around her.
Accusing eyes.
Seems that the wolves of the Brentwood pack didn’t like her laughing at another man's joke. Rory hung her head. Why did it make her feel guilty? They weren’t even flirting, and she wasn’t Romans woman, no matter what he said. As if sensing her discomfort, the man turned slowly. Almost too slowly and pinned every single one of them with a stare that lowered the temperature in the room several degrees. Rory shivered.
“You didn’t need to do that.” She said softly, as more than one of her customers lowered their heads. One made a sound in his throat that sounded awfully like a whine.
Reaper shrugged. “Wolves recognize power, and I’m an Alpha; plus I won’t have them making you feel uncomfortable. There’s no need for that.”
“Honestly it's fine, they mean no harm. I think…” How could she explain to a total stranger why her shop was full of out of town shifters, when she didn’t fully understand herself. “Are you a wolf then?” She quickly changed the subject.
“God no!” He seemed honestly offended as he leaned against the counter, coffee forgotten in front of him. “Definitely not one of those mongrels.” He laughed loudly, again causing more than one wolf to give him the stink eye. He rolled his eyes in return. Nonchalant. And most definitely antagonizing the wolves on purpose.
“I’m something so much better than a wolf darling,” he leaned over close. A growl erupted behind him. Turning so sharply he almost knocked over the full mug with his elbow. “Pipe down dog boy.”
“Sorry. Sorry,” the man in question raised both hands as if about to ward off some blow. Leaving Rory staring between them. Reaper hadn’t threatened violence and yet the wolf who was broader and bigger seemed as cowed as a kicked puppy.
“Do you know each other?”
“Not personally, but he knows who I am, most shifters do. There aren’t many of me about.”
Well, that got her attention. “And what are you?” She knew it was rude. That she was prying into a total stranger's life. It was on par with asking someone about their sexuality when you had just met them. Rory didn’t know what had come over her. As if reading her thoughts, he laughed again. The lines around his eyes deepened again. This was a man who laughed a lot. “Don’t worry about being rude, I’m a Siren.”
Rory felt her cheeks flush crimson. A siren, as in a mermaid? She hadn’t even thought that was possible. Everyone knew that Shifters existed, even vampires though she didn’t ever want to meet one of those. Shifters were pretty common, wolves, bears, certain big cats; though the cats were pretty secretive. But Sirens? She had never even heard of a siren shifter.
“And you are?”
“Human” it had slipped out of mouth before she realized how stupid she was being. He was asking her name, not her species. “Sorry, Rory.”
“Hello Human woman Rory, I should have known who you were.” And with that, he turned taking his coffee to the nearest available table. One she hadn’t cleared yet.
What had he meant, he should have known? Rory grabbed at her cloth and followed him over. Making a big pretence of clearing the table for him. He leaned back on his chair, watching her. She noticed the chain then, silver undoubtedly, wrapped around his wrist under his jacket. He caught her staring and lifted it to let her see.
“Doesn’t that burn your skin, I thought… well, are Sirens different from other shifters? Doesn’t that hurt?”
He shrugged. “I don’t mind a little pain, and you don’t need to whisper. Everyone here knows exactly what and who I am.”
Rory nodded as she wiped the already spotless table. “And you know me?” she finally asked as he kept staring at her with his dark eyebrow raised.
“Of you,” he took a sip of scalding hot coffee and didn’t even flinch, though it must have taken at least one layer of skin from his mouth. The guy really did have a thing for pain. “Everyone knows of you.”
“Oh okay,” Rory wasn’t sure why she felt so deflated. She hadn’t wanted to date the man, but she did feel unusually content in his company, like he was an old friend. If he had heard of her, then he knew about Roman and her overly complicated relationship. Even though it was her that was making it complicated. A friendship would be out of the question if he was just going to be another shifter Roman had warned off.
“I can see why Roman chose you and warned the whole community off you. You are definitely a shifter’s type.” His eyes travelled the length of her again before settling his laughing eyes back on her face. “Yeah you’re definitely every single guy in this place’s type… some of the women too.”
“Thank you… I think… wait, what?” Rory sat down heavily, ignoring the raised eyebrow that shot up towards his hairline again. “Are you saying every single customer in here is a shifter?”
He glanced around mockingly before leaning heavily onto his elbows, bringing his face closer to hers. “Yep, wolves mainly. Brentwood pack mainly though the son of the local Alpha is over there at the back, some bears, and obviously me. You have a full house of shifters darling.”
“The local wolf Alpha?”
He nodded, discreetly using his head to signal a tall man at the back. Blonde hair falling over his collar. “Byron Mackintosh, son of the Creekhill Alpha. He’s okay, though his dad is a bit of a well... I won’t pollute your ears with what he is.”
“So, this Byron is okay? He won't cause problems because of all the other… Out of town customers?”
Reaper paused; eyes narrowed. “Byron, no. His dad is an old fool though, so him being here isn’t going to be a coincidence.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. Dark brows lowered over his eyes. “Byron always does what his daddy orders,” he added spitefully.
“Isn’t that just a wolf thing, obeying their Alpha?”
“It’s a shifter thing darling, unless you have Alpha blood or you're just whipped.” He chuckled.
“Do you think they will start trouble?” she couldn’t help it. It made her nervous.
“Nah” he chuckled, for a man who answered to Reaper, he sure did like to laugh. “Not with me here.”
Rory rolled her eyes. Typical macho man.
“And they would be foolish to even think about it with Requiem in town as well.”
Requiem? What was it with all these strange R names?
Roman.
Reaper.
Requiem.
“Requiem?”
“Dragon.”
She gulped. Dragon? Did he honestly just say Dragon? “I’m sorry, Dragon?”
“Yeah you know, big things, they fly. Fire breathers for the most part.”
Rory gave a shriek. “And there’s one in town, how has no one noticed him?”
“He’s not flying around Rory, he’s probably at the gym or sorting some business.”
Yeah, now she felt stupid. “Do you know why there is a dragon shifter in my town?”
“You of course.” His words were deadpan. As if she was asking the most stupid question in the world. He didn’t need to say “Duh” it was implied.
“What, do you mean me, oh Roman asked him.” Rory frowned. What was he thinking of sending a bloody dragon in to protect her? Talk about over the top protective, “How silly, there must be at least twenty wolves watching my every move,” she motioned angrily. Then it hit her. “Are you here because of Roman as well?”
“I’m here because I was curious. He didn’t send me, but I’ll admit that I wanted to see you.”
“You know Roman then?” she scraped her chair back.
“We served together under Requiem; we all work together now but don’t go getting all offended now Rory, he doesn’t even know I’m here. In fact, he would probably bust a nut if he saw me talking to you like this.”
Rory raised her own eyebrow. What was he on about? The question must have shown on her face as he motioned to all of him. Black jeans, black hair, jacket casually thrown over a white t-shirt. The jewellery, the tattoos. The glint in his eye. The overwhelming sex appeal.
Yeah, Rory could see why Roman might not like her talking to him. Reaper was hot.
Panty wetting hot. For any woman that wasn’t her. She could see he was good looking, but he didn’t affect her like she thought he might. Like Roman.
“Nothing?” He asked seriously. She shrugged as she laughed. “Sorry but nope. Sorry to burst your bubble.”
“Well shit, looks like you really are Romans mate.”
Shit. Rory was beginning to think he might be right.