Changing Appalachia

2

On the south side of town in Blaid, there was a large whitewashed block building with no windows. Thursday through Sunday nights the lot was filled with bikes and vehicles of all sorts. It was the local strip club and gathering place for shifters, humans avoided it without express invitation. It wasn't as if they wanted to be near it either, the rumors that circled the human community about Blaid and the club were horrible. The most common one was that shifter males raped human females and would kill and sometimes eat human males. While there were individuals in the shifter community that were a little sketchy, for the most part these rumors were untrue.

Upon entering, the bar was the first thing in view. There was a seating area around it so that those that didn't wish to be part of the actual show could still interact with their friends without offending their mates. Female wolves were known to be possessive of their males, and vice versa. The bar was run and owned by Colleen Dawson, she had owned the bar for nearly twenty years now. Tonight her shiny red hair was held back by crystal studded silver combs, and her sharp blue eyes were lined neatly in black. She made sure the girls had basic needs and were safe, Colleen was a mother herself and most of the girls were near the same age as her daughter.

Colleen watched from the bar, her hand on a glass that contained a double shot of whiskey. Her eyes scanned the crowd as it did nightly, looking for a familiar face, a pair of eyes she hadn't seen in just nineteen years. It was useless, she knew. He wasn't coming. They lived in the same town and she still hadn't seen him in two decades; he stayed out of this area and away from women like Colleen.

That stung her, at one time she'd been good enough for him, good enough to be his lover, good enough to give him two babies. He had never seen Colleen's twins; they were conceived in their last fling before he vanished from her life forever, leaving Colleen to raise them alone. Colleen tossed back the drink and her eyes scanned the stage, she watched Trisha finish her show and put her satin robe back on to exit.

"Slow night," Trisha joined Colleen at the bar for a drink.

"Well, it's Sunday, girl. Maybe they're all over at the church." Colleen laughed bitterly. She knew better, but Sunday was always slow and she needed something or someone to blame.

Trisha took the mixed drink she'd ordered. Her hair was dyed a brassy blonde that suited her fair skin quite well. Trisha had started here a couple of months ago when her fiance had vanished for a week only to emerge newly mated with a pregnant mate. "They'll be 'round here come Friday night throwing money."

Colleen nodded softly, "Hmm, you learned well, didn't you?"

Trisha stirred her White Russian and took a drink, the darkness of the bar hid the sadness in her eyes well. She was past the tears, but far from over the heartbreak. She didn't answer Colleen, she slid off the stool and made her way to the back dressing room. Lottie took the stage, receiving a marginally better reaction than Trisha from the half dozen or so males in the front row.

While watching Lottie work the small crowd, Colleen felt the presence behind her before Ike even spoke. Before he could speak first, Colleen turned back to look up at him. Ike was well over six foot tall, his silvery hair was neatly trimmed and brushed back into waves. "How long have you been here?"

Ike shrugged and nodded towards her glass, "Not as long as you. Are you doing okay?"

Colleen sighed, she hated how well Ike knew her. She hated how well his silvery hair and olive skin set off his gray eyes and made them twinkle. She also knew she really didn't hate any of it, it just made her weak and she hated the weakness. "Yeah, just a slow night. The girls ain't making nothing. What you got going on?"

"You ain't heard? Ol' Jody was calling down the wrath of God on the shifters this morning and the throwed one of them damned snakes at ol' Hubert Small. He fell plum out with a heart attack." Ike laughed lightly, winking at the young bartender as he rubbed the five o'clock shadow along his strong jaw. "I'll have a beer, honey."