Kathy Love: I Only Have Fangs For You

Except when wet, he amended. She'd definitely been noticeable then. The image of her sitting in that puddle, dress hiked up to the tops of her pale thighs, appeared in his mind again.

He gritted his teeth, annoyed with himself. He wasn't irritated with himself for noticing. After all, that's what he did. He always noticed women. It was the fact that the image was still so clear in his mind, and kept replaying. He'd seen far more provocative displays of skin from far more beautiful women, yet something about-what was her name?

Wilhelmina.

He grimaced. But something about Wilhelmina had captured his attention. Again and again over the course of last evening, and again tonight.

He'd obviously been depriving himself. Time with his holier-than-thou brothers really did cramp his style. And last night, the sprinkler incident had put a damper (no pun intended) on his plans. By the time he was finished cleaning up the backroom, he'd decided just to head up to his apartment to relax. Alone. He'd been too preoccupied: with who could have called the cops about serving minors, and then as much as he hated to admit it, Wilhelmina. He'd thought about her more than the damned cops.

He sighed, turning his thoughts to the threesome of women he'd turned away. That had been stupid. He wouldn't still feel so uneasy if he'd spent last night feeding his hunger and burned off his extra tension with them. Maybe they'd be back tonight and he could make up for his bad behavior. They would forgive him. Women always did.

Again, the new waitress popped into his head. Except for her, maybe. She definitely didn't respond to him like most women, whether vampiress or female human. Even Nadine was more receptive to his charm-and Nadine was one tough she-wolf.

Nadine's a wolf, understanding dawning on him. That had to be why Nadine was championing the weird waitress. Wolves were protective by nature.

"Nadine, I appreciate your decision, but I'm not sure she's cut out for a job here. I mean look at Greta." He gestured to the leggy blonde, leaning on the end of the bar chatting with Crystal, a curvy brunette. "And Crystal. Our cocktail waitresses are part of the allure of the place. They are supposed to be a draw for the patrons."

"Give her a chance. This is where she needs to be," Nadine said, certainty in her husky voice.

Sebastian studied his right-hand woman and friend. Finally, he nodded. Nadine was a good judge of character, another trait of werewolves. Animal instincts and all that. And he'd trusted her for years with all his hiring. It didn't make much sense to question her now.

Still, while there was something that intrigued him about the vampiress, there was something that made him uncomfortable as well. His gut told him he should bypass Nadine's opinion and give the little waitress her walking papers.

"Hi, Wilhelmina," he heard Greta greet the waitress in question.

Sebastian glanced down the bar to see her rush into the club. Her hair was again knotted in that peculiar, messy, hornlike hairstyle and her black plastic-framed glasses slipped down to the tip of her nose. She scurried in a graceless way, the large knapsack on her back causing her to stoop forward, making her look like a hunchback.

"Hi," she murmured to the blonde as she hurried past.

As she approached, she hesitated slightly when her eyes met his. Then as she started forward again, the toe of her left foot caught on one of the nearly nonexistent grooves in the marble flooring. She tripped forward but managed to catch herself on the back of a bar stool before she fell.

Sebastian started to stand to make sure she was okay, but before he could rise, she scampered past him toward the employee lounge.

"Wilhelmina," he called, turning his bar stool in her direction.

He'd expected her to be reluctant to speak to him, but instead she spun to face him.

"Y-yes," she said, her gaze darting from him to Nadine and then back to him again.

"Are you okay?" he asked. As in his apartment, he got the vibration that she was scared.

"Yes," she said quickly. "I–I just need to call my roommate before my shift starts. I–I forgot to tell her-something."

Just then her knapsack shifted, and she reached a hand to one of the straps to secure it. She backed away from them. "I, um, I need to make that call."

She continued to back away a few more steps, then turned and literally fled into the small lounge.

Sebastian glanced at Nadine. "I hope you are right about her."

Nadine gave him a bemused look that stated she currently had her doubts as well. "Me too."

Wilhelmina rushed into the employee lounge, a relieved sigh escaping her as she saw the room was empty. Thank God. She started to sag back against the wall, her heart pounding and her knees weak. But at the last moment, just as her back would have connected, squeezing the backpack between herself and the wallboard, she caught herself.

Pushing straight, she reached for the straps of the pack and eased it off her shoulders. She placed the large sack on the floor, watching as the nylon rippled and undulated like a living thing. Of course, the creatures inside were alive. And judging from the squeaks and clawing, they were also more than a little upset. The woman at the pet store had looked a little upset, too, when Wilhelmina had asked to buy all of their rats, and then had stuck them in her knapsack. Oh well. This had to be done.

"Sorry guys," she murmured to the bag, "but you can't be any more distressed than I am."

The last person she'd expected to be in the bar was Sebastian. She'd just assumed that the great Sebastian Young didn't make an appearance until the place was bustling with his next round of human victims. After all, that was the importance of the nightclub for him, wasn't it?

Wilhelmina hadn't expected him to be sitting right there at the bar, watching her with those intense, golden eyes.

She'd been prepared for the rest of the waitstaff, and how quickly she was going to have to race through the bar, so they didn't sense the animals in her backpack. She'd almost blown it when she'd seen Sebastian and their eyes met. It was a sheer miracle that she managed to keep her footing when she'd tripped. And then he'd called her, and she'd been certain that he'd sensed the rats. But he hadn't. Her hope that the waterproofed knapsack would buy her a little time had worked. The scent of the rodents hadn't easily filtered through the rubberized material.

But she knew she didn't have much more time. The werewolves' sense of smell was very keen. She needed to get this done, fast.

Creeping back to the doorway, she looked both ways to make sure no one, especially Sebastian, was around. The coast was clear. She ducked back into the lounge and hurried over to the backpack.

As she unzipped the nylon, a fountain of rats sprang from the growing gap. They scrambled over each other and over her hands, their little claws scratching her skin in their desperation to escape.

"Sorry guys," she whispered again. "But you're free now. Scurry wherever you like."

The dozen or so rats seemed to take her at her word and scuttled away, heading to the corners of the room rather than exposing themselves to the middle. She watched them for a second, feeling a strange connection to them. She'd lived much the same way for most of her life. Clinging to the edges, trying to remain unnoticed. Never exposing herself to the world. That was how she'd survived.

But she was putting herself out there now. She rose suddenly feeling less nervous and more positive that this was the right thing to do. The brave and strong and honorable thing to do.

She unzipped the side pocket of her bag and pulled out her cell phone. The number for the New York health department, which she'd gotten before she left her apartment, appeared in her call list. Arrowing down to it, she hit Send and the phone began to ring.