The Supernatural Client

Mercury Ramirez and Annie Mikaelson lived together not far away from Cavite Estate - Bacoor City, Cavite. They molded their lives as being together and living the way they wanted to be. Mercury, together with his Pack needs to be with humans to help whatever they could extend aid with regard to supernaturals.

Mercury Ramirez POV

Bacoor City, Cavite. Not a massive Metropolis like Manila, but one that shows a certain potential to be as developed a city. For division between two areas, by a coastal line named Coastal Exchange. I’m sure it has other “advantages,” but traveling by car from Springville to downtown airport isn’t one of them.

The boys and I arrived about an hour ago. Narciso and Manny rented an SUV and after we loaded our bags, we navigated to the Manila, Marriot Hotel where our client Kenny Mijares met.

"Can I get you a drink, sir?" Said the Bartender.

I looked up, at the man sliding a wet and slightly sticky cloth over the thick amber-coated counter. He stopped, his gray eyes gaping at the scar I carried on the left side of my face. You think he noticed this when I first arrived, but there was definitely a change in shift. This bartender looks older than the man who was there earlier.

His confused expression — the one I saw again — convinced me that he was thinking about how I had gotten such a mark. Perhaps he thought it was because of a dangerous job I had. That is partly true. And again, he probably thought I had been the victim of a horrible tiger or lion attack or werewolf attack. I wasn’t about to volunteer the information so I kept thinking about him.

He finally realized he was staring and uncomfortable before resting his weight on the side of the bar with both hands, which gave me a fake semi-encouraging smile, suggesting to order something or find another seat. Having sat there for a while without commanding, I don’t think I can blame him. But I also couldn’t help but wonder if he wanted me to leave the chair to give people who really wanted to order a seat or because he was afraid I would scare his potential customers. My cynical side decided if it was too late. But I will not move.

Kenny Mijares left a paper note with instructions at the lobby desk to meet him in the hotel lounge at 9:30 p.m. I noticed the time on the wall above the Bar. It’s past 9:30 p.m., happening at 10:15 p.m. The bastard didn’t even have the decency to call and say he was late.

The bartender sighed, catching my attention as he raised his eyebrows in impatience. "Anything?"

My eyes reluctantly stared at the top of the shelf behind him, and jumped down, I knew they couldn’t get my favorite. The warm blood with Ambrosia mixed with a hint of mint is more of a rarity. It is close to insanity in the eye of a mortal.

I let out an agitated breath, an irritation, not only at the bartender but also at the constant buzz that had been building up on my nerves for several months now. My inner wolf also didn’t receive the annoyance gushing beneath the surface and his pacing didn’t help much. It keeps me on edge, just enough to give me a nasty habit when I don’t need to.

I ran my hand through my hair. "Just ... double whiskey is okay."

"Make it two." The woman's warm voice added from behind me. Naturally, I turned to the owner. "Sorry, I'm late." He added.

Did he talk to me? I tried to resist the urge to look over my shoulder but it was useless and I quickly noticed the people near us sitting.

There weren't too many people in the lounge. A couple sitting on a sofa quietly talking and two men at the other end of the bar, confirming my earlier theory that the bartender really wanted me to leave but neither of them was close enough to actively engage in his greeting.

I turned my attention back to the mysterious woman. I didn’t recognize who she was, but her warm smile suggests otherwise.

It's hard not to stare. I mean, she's beautiful but a different kind of beauty than I'm used to. Her skin was pale ivory, with the red lipstick she wore distracting my attention from the very beautiful opening of her mouth. Her narrow nose gracefully dropped, complimenting her high cheekbones. The sides of her ebony bob kiss her long neck as she pulls out her long black coat showing off a red fitted sweater with black slacks and red shiny heels. She slid her rear on the stool next to me with such grace, for a moment I thought she might be Kenny?

The bartender placed two glasses in front of us and poured whiskey into half of each, her eyes carefully moving between the two of us.

What's her problem?

A rosy smell of flowers echoed in the air with a charming charm, which dispelled my frustrations at the bartender. Her gaze was pinned to me, and the slight smile brought a sharp edge to her mouth, sexy as hell. I would have asked if we would have met when she said--. "My name is Kenny Mijares." She held out a slim, well-manicured hand, nails polished red. I closed my eyes. Kenny Mijares ... is a woman. No problem, I know the name Kenny is unisex, but I prepared myself to meet a, Her ... Woman?

She felt maybe a little startled by me as she lifted her head to the side, amusing the flickering in her frosty gray eyes. "Maybe you're expecting a man."

I held my hand to hers and gave a quick handshake. "I wasn't expecting you." I simply said.

"I'll admit, I wasn't exactly sure when I left the note in the front lobby on the phone. My full name is Quintana Joy Mijares, but Kenny is what most people call me." She handed the napkin to the small pile lying on the counter, then nodded to the bartender. I probably missed their quiet exchange, because when I looked in her direction where she was lost in a corner. I went back to Kenny, who folded the napkin in half and pressed her lips to their crease, leaving a trace of her red lipstick behind. She returned the napkin to the counter next to her drink.

“And you must be Mercury Ramirez, Mixed Pure Breed and Alpha Werewolf from Barrio Anting-anting, the ancestors destiny child. Nice to meet you at last. If I wanted the world to know my business, I met the right man who would do it," her voice seemed to carry the jazz music playing in the background from the stereo buried in the walls. And my eyes inevitably turned carefully around to see if anyone had heard of the mortals.

She approached, and gently placed her hand on my thigh under the counter and I looked down but I didn’t move it. "Forgive me, sometimes I forget to lower my voice at the right time." She shuddered. "But I don't think anyone here is worried about our business."

A slight tug pulled in a corner of my mouth, a smile strained and formed for no apparent reason. But I resisted it, raised my eyebrows, and glared at her. "You're late."

She laughed and smiled broadly, a mouth full of pearls flashing as she leaned over and held out her hand.

I was irritated by her movements, but she was damn beautiful when she did it. And all I could do was sit there and stare at her all night. Observing the dim light catches frozen eyes.

"And you're brave," she leveled. “I pay for your team, remember? I can afford to be… fashionably late.”

I barely sniffed, but she had a point, and I couldn’t argue with it. She pays my staff heavily, more than she needs, and I winced inside raising it.

"Do not worry. I'll let it slide and you can make it up to me later." She gave me another sensual smile and the smile I tried to suppress, finally disappeared as well. Her eyes noticeably dropped to my mouth, heated them with a thin look, and slowly blazed a path back to the left side of my face. She eyed my scar, just as the bartender had but there was no trace of disgust on her face, in fact, our eyes met again like she was, instead interested.

"Your scar gives you character." She said, "Like a warrior from battle. It is, it becomes sexy."

Although the comment flattered me, my self-loathing did not allow me to fully feel the pride in what she was saying. I know how I got the scar, and it wasn’t because of being a warrior.

There was a strong strength that I liked in her. The way she carry herself, and the bright-colored clothing she dared to wear suggested she was just as bold and most likely as aggressive as me. My type definitely revolves around strong, independent women with experience. A woman can give me a good fight, the cold shoulder and a rough round of makeup, and sex afterward. Yes, I have issues.

My eyes dropped to her sweater. Red isn’t just a color for lust, it’s a color of rebellion, and my mind inevitably wonders if she’s wearing a red bra underneath.

Kenny straightened up, naturally pushing her chest out and crossing her legs under the counter. She probably saw me gaping.

"I hope your flight went well." She says.

So, she would pretend she didn’t notice me and I could play. "Good." I nodded. "We have no problem finding a hotel but we won't stay here." I continue. "Narciso, one of my staff, has a condo near the Plaza that will allow us more privacy and mobility if needed. Better than being stuck on the sixth floor of a busy hotel. At least they will have some room for error if something unexpected happens. It is better to prepare than to repent."

She made a short “Hmmm” sound of recognition as she reached for her glass of whiskey, bringing the edge to her lips. It’s hard to read what she might be thinking in “Hmmm”.

She slid her tongue over her lower lip as she finished and I stiffened, my imagination playing with pictures of the other way she could use her mouth.

"It's embarrassing if you don't stay." She said putting down the glass, using her other hand to forget her fear.

Is this her way of approaching me? I’m not sure, but she affected me. She’s been flirting with me before and I’d given a few flirtatious smiles in return, but now she just seems to be teasing me. She knew I was watching.

The irritation returned and when my inner wolf stood up and started walking again, I realized she had been settled for a while. And I was even more nervous about it.

Anyways what matters? The whole reason she met was so she could give me the assignment. She is a paying client and I am her employee. Nothing else.

"Are you leaving tonight?" My attention was caught by the question and our eyes met.

No. Yes. Sure.

"It depends." I decided, the huskiness in my voice practically giving me away. I like her and the truth is not alarming. She was sexy and attractive, and I really wanted to see if she was wearing a red bra against her white skin.

Kenny Mijares didn't seem surprised at my half-ass proposition and in response she let the tip of her tongue touch the top of her lip. She watches me, watching her with every splitting of the hair in seconds of strange motion. I couldn’t stop staring when I was tired and the lump in my jeans was proof of that, which made me suddenly uncomfortable sitting.

Surprisingly, Kenny came over and took my glass of whiskey from the counter.

"Depends on…?" she asked, lengthening the sound of the "n", waiting for my reason.

With my glass in her hand, she gently wiggled it in front of me, urged me to drink with her. I honestly didn’t plan to even touch the drink. Whiskey isn’t really a favorite of mine and the only reason I ordered it was to remove the bartender from my case.

I glanced at her glass on the counter and noticed that her lip-printed napkin was gone and it didn’t bother her anymore.

“My comment earlier about you being late. Do I have to recoup for it?" I took my glass in her hand and lowered the flesh into a gulp of fire. I honestly don't remember burning whiskey so much.

She wrapped her coat around her elbow. "Why don't we go to my room and talk about it."

XXX