Page 38 of Wolf's Gambit

Not even my brother.

Sy, the cook, came in through the back door, fresh from his smoke break. I grimaced as he bypassed the sink and went straight back to the grill without washing his hands. I could smell the stale scent of smoke on him, and I didn’t want to think about the hygiene issues of his cooking after smoking.

I had nothing against smoking. If that’s what you wanted to do, then that was up to you. But if you were a cook, simple decency dictated you washed your hands first. Didn’t it?

As the door closed slowly behind him, I caught a strange scent in the air. The double sinks I spent my days in front of had two large windows that faced the woods and surrounded this small town at the base of the mountains.

I’d left my pack, but I hadn’t left the mountains I was born in. The Rockies covered a vast range, and I knew my pack and their footprint of the mountain well. I was several hours from them, confident that our paths would never cross again. Kris had said it himself—Bale wouldn’t come looking for me.

None of the Anterrio Pack would.

Yet, as I stood frozen in front of the sinks, I searched the woods in front of me. Pushing away from the sink, I crossed the kitchen to the back door.

“Zia?” Sy asked gruffly. “You okay?”

Nodding, I reached for the handle. “Yeah. Just need some fresh air.”

“Left the faucet on,” Sy grumbled, reached over and flicked it off. “Using all the hot water.”

I ignored his grumbling, pulled open the door, and took a deep breath as I stepped outside. Turning slowly, I scented the air, jumping slightly when the door banged closed behind me, knowing it was Sy being a dick.

I could smell the kitchen and the chargrilled, overcooked meat Sy served in the bar. The smell of the fryers, the grease always making me feel nauseous for the first thirty minutes or so of my shift, hung in the air. I could also smell the car fumes from the trucks, bikes, and other vehicles in the parking lot.

In the distance I could hear the passing traffic on the freeway that bypassed this town. Another reason why I picked this one—no one rarely came here. The freeway whisked drivers past this small town, leading them to bigger and better places.

I inhaled again. My wolf came forward curiously.

Do you smell it? I asked her. There’s something in the air.

We inhaled again as I once more turned in a circle. I felt her huff as she retreated. The scents of the small town’s pollution were enough to dissuade her.

Once more, I took a deep breath, but whatever I thought I’d smelled was gone.

With one more look over my shoulder, I returned to the kitchen. Back at the sinks, I reached over, and with no word of protest from Sy, I pulled the thin netting across the window, hiding the view outside and me from it.

When I first started working here, Sy and I had a two-week fight about it. He liked them closed for the glare. I preferred them open. I eventually won the argument because Sy didn’t have the energy to push for what he wanted about anything unless it was the bar menu.

Then he became more stubborn than a mule.

As I predicted, he said nothing, and I resumed my dishes, my eyes on the windows and my senses alerted every time Sy went out for a smoke break.

Closing time came, and as was my custom, I took my pay and declined the offer to sit and have a drink. All employees were paid for their work that day and allowed one staff drink.

Cash in hand suited me. I never knew if I was coming back for the next shift, and it was perhaps the only thing I had in common with my coworkers.

On my way out, one guy who worked the bar was still cleaning tables. “Surprised to see you walking,” he said quietly.

His words caused me to slow, looking over my shoulder in case anyone else heard. “Why’s that?”

I should’ve kept walking.

“Took quite the beating,” he said. Stacking up his tray of glasses, he looked me over. “Not even a limp,” he added, gesturing to my knee.

“Looked worse than it was,” I told him coolly.

“No amount of makeup can hide the shiner,” he told me, straightening. “No stitches though, not even a mark.” His eyes searched my face, coming back to my eyebrow that Bullet had burst open last night.

Careless, Kezia, I chastised myself.

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