Marked by Magic (The Baine Chronicles #4)(18)

It’s for the greater good, a voice whispered in my head, and I nearly laughed out loud. How absurd, the idea of having sex ‘for the greater good’. But there was no denying that something needed to be done, and it needed to be done with someone else. Masturbation didn’t work – it was that living, human connection that the heat sought, and the heat responded to. After all, self-pleasure didn’t result in procreation, now did it?

I hopped on my bike and headed to The Cat’s Meow, a diner run by the Tiger Clan. After parking my ride in the back alley, I changed my illusion to that of the blonde tiger shifter female I’d used the last time I came here. But instead of a sweater and jeans, I put on a skin-tight leather corset beneath a black blazer, leather pants, and boots. No, it wasn’t the kind of attire one usually wore to a diner, but I wanted to make my intentions clear to the males inside.

It was mid-afternoon, so I didn’t expect the place to be packed, but it was still a lot emptier than it should have been. Over two thirds of the tables and booths were empty. But as soon as I stepped in, every single male’s gaze swung my way. Yellow, orange, and blue shifter eyes glowed with hunger as their nostrils flared, catching the scent of my heat. Other eyes, female ones, flared with jealousy, and several females bared their fangs in my direction as I walked past, swinging my hips a little as I headed for the bar in the back. The mated males all hastily averted their eyes as I sauntered past, but several gazes remained glued on my back. The single male seated at the bar, a handsome tiger shifter with orange eyes and shaggy dark hair that I remembered meeting here the last time, licked his lips, showing a hint of fang as he looked me up and down.

“Hey,” he greeted me as I sat down on the barstool next to him, his deep voice rougher than I remembered. He leaned in, nostrils flaring as he inhaled my scent. It would be nearly irresistible to him. “Visiting from Parabas again?”

I pretended to look sheepish at the reproach in his eyes – I’d lied to him the last time about where I was from, and had given him a false phone number to call. Because I’d used my magic to disguise my scent, he hadn’t been able to tell, a fact that no doubt confused him.

“Sorry about that, but I was involved with someone else at the time.” I didn’t even really have to lie about that – I was involved with someone else. Just not the level of involvement that I wanted it to be. “I’m alone now, though,” I added with a feline smile. “You could buy me a drink if you like.”

“How do I know that’s actually true?” he asked, arching a brow as he picked up his glass of teca – one of the few substances that could intoxicate a shifter, and that would kill a human if served to them. “You seem to be extraordinarily good at lying.”

I shrugged a little. “You don’t.” Pretending to ignore him, I turned away and ordered five cheeseburgers and a boatload of fries from the man behind the counter. I was famished from the constant use of illusion magic, and besides, I had no intention of working for tiger-boy’s affections. There was plenty of interest around here – in fact, two other males were approaching the bar already. One of them tried to sit down next to me, but tiger-boy bared his teeth and let out a ferocious snarl, and the other male backed off. I pretended not to notice, but inwardly, I sighed in relief. If the other male had been more dominant, a fight would have broken out, and I had come here for sex, not bloodshed.

“So, is this your spot?” I asked as the first two burgers arrived.

“Huh?” he asked as I bit into the food.

“Mmm,” I moaned, closing my eyes as I savored the juicy burger. The reaction was genuine, but I played it up a little for him. And then I made him wait until I’d finished the burger.

“That barstool you’re sitting in.” I pointed a greasy finger at it. “You were sitting in the same one the last time I was here. Does it have your name on it or something?”

He grinned. “If you can actually remember which stool I was sitting in, then I must have made a big impression.”

“You’re cute,” I said with a shrug as I picked up burger number two.

“The stool doesn’t have my name on it, but it’s a little more comfortable than the others, so I always use it.” He smiled a little. “My father owns this diner, so I’m in here a lot.”

I nearly choked on my burger at that. So much for picking a random guy, I scolded myself. If he were telling the truth – and my nose told me he was – then he would be well known in the community.

Suddenly, I had a flash of an earlier memory, from six years ago. It was one of the times I’d been in here with Roanas, and a gangly teen with shaggy brown hair had been serving us. He was probably no more than nineteen at the time, his face still thin, his shoulders too wide for his still-growing body, but there was no mistaking him. He’d always been our server, and he had been one of the few shifters to go out of his way to make me feel welcome.

“You’re Nimos Barakan?” I asked, putting my burger down.

His eyes widened in surprise. “You know my name?”

I swallowed hard. “Yeah, I do.” No longer hungry, I slapped some coin on the counter, then slid off the barstool. “I’ve gotta go.”

“Just one second,” Nimos growled, grabbing me by the upper arm. “You’ve already walked out on me once. I’ll be damned if I let you do it again.”