There were very few things that unnerved Ash Anson. Unfortunately, one of those things was the full moon. The weekend before last had her wound tightly and double-checking her weapons—along with the silver bullet collection she had hidden in the secret area behind one of her wall mirrors.
It wasn't that she didn't like werewolves (although, she wasn't completely sure how she felt about them), it was that they terrified her. Straight up terrified her. The experience she'd had as a teenager left more of a lasting mark than just the scars on her face and neck.
She was always in a bad mood during and just after a full moon. The following weekend tended to see the usually unshakeable security officer at the Kestrel, drinking her nerves away and just trying to relax. This month had been different because she hadn't been able to get to the Kestrel last weekend.
Though she'd missed Friday and Saturday due to making sure her brother had everything he needed, this Sunday found her firmly seated at her usual table, whiskey in hand and sipping at the glass as she turned the page in her book.
She'd never let on about her fears when it came to weres, absolutely refused to. No weaknesses needed to be revealed to these people. No matter how much time she'd spent here. Ash had always kept her distance emotionally from others around her. She could be friends with people, to an extent, but the inner Ashleigh was always kept under wraps. No one (except her brother) ever got to see the real Ash Anson.
It could be lonely, at times, but she took care of that too. She had a couple of people she could call if need be in a couple of the neighboring towns. And that itch was slowly coming upon her. But this time she wasn't sure she could get away. Not really. Now that Malik was home, her existence pretty much revolved around him and the reserve again. She wasn't completely sure how to turn that off. She knew she'd have to, but now that he was an adult, she didn't have to take care of him anymore. He didn't need her.