Page 17 of Hawke

I gazed at them in amazement. It had been a while since I could pull them out of my body. They were sharp, black, and in good working condition.

“Shifter flu, must be some shifter flu?” I whispered to myself as I strategically pushed my finger over the screen.

There she was—Delilah’s face solemn as she entered the building.

She was just as miserable as me.

My claws retracted from my fingertips, and I leaned up against the brick wall. I felt my cut snag against the tough surface and fall to the floor.

“What the fuck am I going to do?”

Chapter Six

Delilah

TwoYearsAgo

I walked along the sidewalk, softly humming a song as I went. It was just past midday, and the day couldn’t get any brighter. Even though this town was located further north than I had planned on traveling, I expected the clouds to block the sun. I was still taken aback by the beauty of the cloudless day.

As I reached the edge of the new town, I didn’t realize how tired I was. I only had ten dollars to my name along with only a few sets of clothes and other personal items in my bag, but that wouldn’t stop me. It wasn’t going to stop this fantastic feeling of freedom and new life ahead of me. A new place, a fresh start, a place to call home.

Despite the sharp rocks that dug into the sole of my feet, I continued walking on the pavement, which should have felt hot and rough beneath me. My endorphins were running high, and the physical pain was dull. My newfound determination fueled me, and with the first few stores in town havinghelp wantedsigns, I knew I was in the right place.

I glanced around town, it was smaller than the last city I was in. This was more of a suburb, a smaller town feel, but the right size to keep the street streaming with people. They were going about their business, stopping in shops, and even laughing with each other, walking side by side.

Yup, this was the right place.

Instead of stopping in front of the first store I saw with a help wanted sign, I trotted down the sidewalk. I was looking for a sign, not just any help wanted sign but some unworldly push where I needed to go. And that was what I was following, that push, that lured feeling to comehere.

Besides my bare feet, I was fairly clean. My hair was pulled back into a rather fashionable bun. My jeans weren’t ripped, and my shirt was clean. As much as I wanted to dress up more, this would have to do.

As I ventured further into town, the buildings seemed to get more decrepit and worn. Large trees hung over a lot of the empty buildings. Moss grew in alleyways, and stray animals even rummaged through the trash.

Any sane person would have turned their butt right back around, but of course, I was following my gut. I took pride in my gut because it hadn’t steered me wrong, yet. I was surrendering to this fate, destiny if you will, and I was going to continue on until I was in blatant danger.

And like a beaming light glowing over one lone building stood a bookshop on the corner.

Bingo.

The bookshop was small, with large potted flowers on either side of the door and a handmade decorative welcome sign made on a two by four and written in a beautiful script. I rubbed my hands together in excitement. I peered inside to see one lonely old man flipping through a giant book that might be a ledger, and I stood up straight.

How was I going to present myself accordingly with no shoes? I rubbed my forehead, listening to the street sounds behind me, but the voices of the patrons walking by grew quiet. Instead, I heard the roar of a motorcycle and the quick kill of its engine. I paid no mind though. I was on a mission. I was going to get this job, first time, first go around and, on top of it all, get to read books all day.

What could be better than that?

As I intently focused on the name of the bookstore, trying to remember when it had been established, I gradually became aware that the warmth of the sun on my back had faded. Instead, an enormous shadow appeared over me, and I heard the stretch of leather boots.

I leaned my head back into the darkness and noticed two deep, dark eyes fixed on me. His face was covered in scruffy facial hair, with his eyebrow raised, leading up to the top of his bald head.

“You have no shoes, woman,” he grumbled.

I straightened myself and turned around. He was the source of the noise. His bike, or hog I guess bikers called them, was large, and I didn’t think I could hold that thing up to ride it if I tried.

Now this guy may look rough and was lacking manners, but hell, he was eye-catching. For the first time in years, I squeezed my thighs together.

Hubba, hubba!

Tattoos raced up his arms as they stayed folded over his chest. The guy was massive, hovering over me like I was some doll, and I wasn’t the shortest woman, but yet I still came up to just below his chest.

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