Page 20 of The Gathering Storm

“See that you do.”

His shoulders slumped a fraction, but he turned around and left without saying another word. She stared after him as the knot in her stomach tightened. His clothes were veritably hanging off the poor boy’s frame. Had he lost weight recently? She pulled his form up in her memory, the long, nearly flawless memory of an immortal Daughter. When he’d first come to the IECS, George had been quite a bit heftier, and had stayed that way until just a few weeks ago. Was his weight loss deliberate then, or was something truly wrong?

She dismissed the thought as soon as it occurred. If something were wrong, George would tell her. She was his boss, after all, and the Daughter responsible for his welfare. It was his duty to immediately report to her any harm that had befallen him. He was a sensible young man, if a bit tender yet, and had never failed in his duty. There was absolutely no reason to worry over him.

This stomach bug, on the other hand, could be quite the nuisance. Twice in one day, it had plagued her. First thing next week, she’d call Dr. Phillips and schedule a checkup.

Mind settled, she returned to her work, the men in her life all but forgotten.

By Friday, Will had almost talked himself into believing Sigrid had lost her interest in him. He ignored the stab to his heart and, if he were honest, his ego as he sliced lemons ahead of the weekend crowd’s thirst. So what if his chance had been fleeting at best? At least he’d gotten a chance. It was more than he’d ever expected.

The Omega’s front doors opened and in walked Chana Wolfbane wearing a richly decorated, blue jacket over a matching shirt and loose, flowing pants. Her dark hair was held away from her face by strings of metal and hung down her back in long ringlets, and the hilt of a sword peeked over her right shoulder.

She smiled at him across the nearly empty bar and headed straight for him, followed by her daughter and nephew. Favi and Saul peeled off halfway across the hardwood floor and snagged an empty table.

Will mustered a smile for Chana as she approached. “You look nice.”

“Thank you.” Her skin shone under the lighting hung over the bar proper as she tilted her head in a coy nod. “We will be eating here tonight. Do you have a menu?”

“I’ll have Casey bring one to your table.” He dropped the paring knife in the sink, covered the lemons, and slid them into the mini-fridge under the bar. “You know, there are a lot nicer places to eat in this area. I can get you a list.”

Which reminded him. He needed to update that list and make more copies for the influx of visitors Rebecca had warned him to expect. That would come in handy sooner or later. Maybe he should make a welcome packet or something.

“We enjoy eating here.” Chana placed her slim hands on the bar’s edge, and her eyelashes fluttered down, covering her nearly black eyes. “Dancing is a custom among the People here? To dance with someone who interests you?”

Will nodded and leaned against the bar across from her. “Sure. It’s one of the more polite ways of courting.”

“Then we shall dance later, yes?”

Her request caught him off guard. Chana was, like many Daughters, a beautiful woman, athletic, intelligent, and eternally young, or nearly so. He’d been so caught up in Sigrid, he’d completely missed seeing Chana as anything but another customer to be cajoled, served, or satisfied, whatever the occasion called for. Now, he eyed her the way a man would an attractive woman, searching for an emotion, any emotion. His heart was rock steady, no desire flooded him the way it did with Sigrid, but Chana was still a desirable woman with an impeccable pedigree.

He could do a lot worse.

And what harm would it do to share a dance with her? He needed a distraction right now, anything to get his mind off of Sigrid. A light flirt with Chana might be just the ticket.

Chana’s eyes narrowed, so slightly only someone standing next to her would notice. “You have another?”

The question shot right into his heart, awakening a sharp regret. He pushed it down and shook his head. “I’d love to dance with you.”

Her expression relaxed into an answering smile. “When you are free.”

“Of course.” He hesitated a minute, then clasped a hand over hers and squeezed lightly. In for a penny, in for a pound. “I’ll come by your table later.”

She flipped her hand over in his and met him palm to palm. The friction warmed his skin, and did not a blessed thing to stir his interest.

Oh, well. Sigrid had always been the only woman to move him on sight anyway. Maybe he just needed time to shake her memory off before he tried being with another woman.

Chana slipped away and walked toward her family, just as Casey stepped up to him at the bar. His sister jerked her chin at the other Daughter. “Who’s that?”

“Chana Wolfbane. She’s new here. Long story.”

On the other hand, he might need Casey’s help soon, depending on how right Rebecca was about upcoming events. His hands were already full, between managing the bar, volunteering with Robert, and the few days he’d put into familiarizing himself with the IECS’s supplies. He hadn’t even started contacting locals yet to see where any possible overflow of visitors could be housed. An extra set of hands on this would be a godsend.

Briefly, he outlined his newly assigned duties and tacked on an overview of why Rebecca had asked him to help out.

When he was finished, Casey leveled a neutral gaze on him. “That doesn’t explain why that Daughter was holding your hand.”

Will glanced away, hiding the hurt that popped up every time he thought about Sigrid. “It’s nothing. Just a dance.”

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