Chapter 4: The Shifters of NYC

Robin’s POV

Robin had agreed to let his friends take him out. He was usually absent-minded and in a bad mood whenever he got back from his annual trip to Venice. As much as Robin declined, preferring to spend the night in bed, his Alpha was the one to convince him.

The whole pack lived in a lakeside community outside of New York. It granted them privacy and access to the forest. That also meant that they were always in each other’s business.

“Get out of here, Rob. Your depression is stinking up the whole house,” Wyatt had told him, practically shoving him out of the house.

Of course, he couldn’t ignore a direct order. He fidgeted with his wedding band, spinning the gold ring around his finger again. Tanner and a few of the guys offered to take him to their favorite bar.

It was open mic night, which would be loud and not contusive to his current mindset. But this bar always offered the best beers on tap. He could deal with some talentless acts as long as he got to enjoy his drink.

“I’m sorry, man. I know it doesn’t get easier,” Tanner said from next to him as they walked with a few other pack members that decided to join them.

Robin didn’t reply right away, thinking about how he had just laid flowers on her grave the day before. He couldn’t stay long, but he spent all night just talking to Emma’s gravestone. It had been five years since she died, but it never got easier. If anything, each passing year just hurt more. “No, it doesn’t.”

When they got to the bar, Robin ordered a drink. They found a table in the crowded bar. They got there just in time for the next act. Among the muddled scents in the room, there was one that he recognized. His eyes snapped right up to the stage and met Olivia’s.

He was not expecting to see Olivia again. Her lips pulled into a sideways smile as she saw him. She had these stark blue eyes that seemed to twinkle playfully as she introduced herself and started performing.

After meeting her on the plane, he felt something. He knew what it was immediately. He felt his accelerated heartbeat seem to thud even harder, a spark igniting deep inside him.

An inhuman, guttural voice from deep inside him claimed: Mine.

And it was wrong. It felt wrong. So, he shoved that voice deep, deep down. Buried it. Any other thought was a betrayal to Emma.

Olivia had this thick, wild curly hair that matched her tongue. She looked nothing like Emma. Even her scent was something spicy and intense. She smelled human, but also different. It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t see her again after this anyways.

He kept his thoughts to himself. At least his head was a private place, unlike his house. As Olivia began to play, he found himself getting roped into the hypnotic melody. The sound was full-bodied and rich.

She expertly played the chords like it was all she ever did. Like she was born to play. If it wasn’t impressive enough that she could play a twelve-string like it was child’s play, she had insane control over her voice. Robin didn’t think he had ever heard something so exquisite in a live forum.

And he should know. He tried to learn guitar once and learned very quickly that he lacked the patience for it. Well, that and the stage fright. He could barely even utter the vows at his own wedding.

He remembered her gentle smile as he stumbled over those words. Her hand reached out and touched his face, making him forget what the rest of his packmates thought. Her opinion was the only one that mattered. She was perfect in every way. His match. Then she was gone.

That beautiful memory was shattered when the audience erupted with applause. His heart sank, the memory of Emma was the only thing that kept her alive. As he looked across the room at Olivia, the guilt was overwhelming.

Robin knew that Olivia was going to come over and greet him, but he wanted to come up with an excuse to keep as far a distance between them as possible. He could smell that peppery scent that was just as emphatic as she was. He stood up as she approached him, noting how small she was.

Cute wasn’t the right word for her. She was too forthright to be cute.

“I’m going to get myself another drink. Do you want anything?” he asked out of politeness, but really, he just wanted to get away from her.

Thank God she passed on it.

He made his way over to the bar and ordered himself another drink. He rubbed his face, pinching the bridge of his nose with an unfamiliar emotion. Then he smelled something. It was cloyingly sweet like a flytrap.

Vampire.

His eyes darted across just a few seats down to a tall, lanky pureblood with a nasty scar across his bottom lip. Robin knew this vampire. Claude Romano. Moved here a few years ago. Wyatt wanted his pack to keep close tabs on Claude. He wasn’t a member of any nearby covens. Not that that would save him if he stepped foot on Wyatt’s land.

Rumor had it that his family let him get away with trying to start a changeling army and murdering college girls out in Portland. Those girls would have been about Olivia’s age.

That thought made Robin unreasonably angry. His eyes darted over to where Olivia was standing, but she was already gone. Good. That meant she was far away from this monster.

Claude’s dark brown eyes shot up and met Robin’s. They stared at each other for a moment, before Robin said, “What’re you doing here, snake?”

Robin watched a tic form in Claude’s jaw. “Same as you. Neutral ground, remember?” Claude spat, instantly aggressive. “Or are you just as stupid as the rest of the mutts?”

Robin’s upper lip curled, but he knew the rules. No fighting within the city limits. New York City is dangerous enough without a turf war. Claude grabbed his jacket off his stool and shoved past Robin.

“Oh, excuse me,” Claude muttered insincerely as he left through the front doors. Robin glared at him as he left, resisting the inner urge to be at his throat.

“What was that the Romano vampire again?” Tanner asked, approaching the bar.

“Yes,” Robin bristled, his voice a low rumble in his chest. “I don’t like him.”

“I don’t like him either, but don’t get into it with him again. You know that we can’t do anything unless he actually hurts someone,” Tanner reminded him.

The last time he ran into Claude, it wasn’t pretty.

“How do you know Olivia again?” Tanner asked.

That question blindsided him. “We met on the plane, why?”

“From Venice? That explains the accent,” Tanner mused. He was getting at something.

“What, Tanner? What?” Robin wasn’t in the mood for twenty questions.

“She just looks familiar. Something about the eyes,” Tanner continued. “And she was checking you out, like hardcore.”

“Oh?” Robin asked, clearing his throat. He tried not to sound interested, even though that inner voice was chomping at the bit.

“Yeah, I said that she’d be wasting her time. You still wear your wedding ring. That should be a loud enough message to tell any person to back off.”

Robin nodded, grabbing his new drink from the bartender.

Tanner continued his train of thought. “Talented girl though. If we had just a little of that talent, our band could have been something.”

A rumble sounded in Robin’s throat as he took a gulp of his drink. “We needed a lot more than a little talent, Tanner. We were godawful.”

Tanner put his hand over his heart in mock shock. “That’s hurtful, Rob. But anyways, come back over to the table. We’re not leaving until you’re either happy or drunk. Let’s go.”