I’m a bad omega.
I was born with the ability to see auras, and I’ve been using my powers for evil, rather than good.
As the top mixologist at the most prestigious heat hotel in the city, every day was a game to manipulate patrons into bigger tips and out of their secrets.
One of those secrets led me to a duffel bag full of cash. And the owner of said bag most definitely wants it back.
Hiding out in the dive bar I bought, I’m perfectly content popping scent blockers till my nose bleeds and mixing drinks that taste like people’s auras.
My karmic punishment gets delivered to the bar one day dressed up at a scent matched alpha.
Shaken Knot Stirred
by Amy Nova
Chapter 1
MOXIE SCHEELE
The sound of the aluminum bat was icy and hollow. I leaned over the bar, making sure my cleavage spilled adequately, and rolled the bat with a coy fingertip.
I’ve always found that tits and the threat of violence were enough to short out most male brains, unless they were an alpha, of course. Alphas needed a whole different strategy.
“Say that again,” I pitched my voice low into that sweet spot that would tangle his brain even further.
A bit of drool collected in the corner of his mouth. He watched my lips like a hawk, either imagining what they could do or praying to some unknown god that he had lip-reading skills.
“Come on, puppy. You were so brave just a second ago. You can do it. Say it again.”
He looked around the room. Maybe he was checking for an exit. More likely, he was looking for backup. He was unlikely to find that in the Delta Lounge.
“It’s not a big deal, Moxie,” Becky said. She was one of my newer regulars, recently having found enough courage to sit at the bar with the big kids. Her creamy beta aura blushed peach around the edges—obvious embarrassment.
The beta asshat in front of me ground his teeth and went all red in the face. Helena, my server, edged away from us, knowing she didn’t want to be in the middle of this nonsense.
“Who gave you permission to sit at the bar?” I changed tactics, knowing he was just about to wind himself up good.
“I don’t need your fucking permission,” he managed to get out.
I cocked my head and gave him a slow up-and-down, taking in his limp blonde hair and faded Dynamix T-shirt. It wasn’t retro or vintage. It was just simply old. I just knew that T-shirt had been sitting in the bottom of his closet for at least half my life.
“Oh, pet, I’m happy to serve you drinks, but if you’re going to get all sassy, you need to beg ‘please’ first.”
The alpha in the corner barked a laugh. He held up one of his long, elegant fingers, licked the tip, and marked the point on an imaginary scorecard in the air. I refused to look at him. He was a deadly distraction. His scent of croissants and coffee was distracting enough.
The beta dude-bro did turn, however. White shimmered through his aura. Technically, betas couldn’t sense auras. They couldn’t tell if you were alpha, omega, or beta on sight. But you’d have to be dead not to clock my little book nerd alpha in the corner as an alpha. Could a beta have that level of confidence? Sure. But guessing alpha was always the safest course.
He took a breath and turned back to me. I tsk’ed at him and shook my head. “If the next words out of your mouth are not an apology…” The sharp taps of my nail on the aluminum bat finished the sentence for me.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
READ MORE SHAKEN KNOT STIRRED ON KNIDLE UNLIMTED!