Wolfsbane and Mistletoe (Charlaine Harris) (Kitty Norville 2.50)

He was a werewolf. Just like her.

He froze in the still open doorway, his eyes wide. Clearly, he'd scented her as well, and was shocked. He looked like he might bolt. Their gazes locked, and Kitty's heartbeat sped up. A stare was a challenge, but this wasn't right, because the guy almost looked terrified. Like he didn't know what to do.

"You want to close that, honey? Yo

u're letting the warm air out. " Jane smiled over the counter at the guy, and that broke the tension.

Kitty looked away - another bit of wolf body language, a move that said she wasn't a threat, and she didn't want to fight. She forced herself to settle back - and could sense him relax a notch as well, lowering his gaze, turning away. She desperately wanted to talk to him. What was he doing here? She didn't know of any werewolves within a hundred miles.

Which was part of what brought her here.

The man - young, disheveled, wearing ill-fitting clothing and a haunted expression - slouched inside his flannel shirt and moved to the counter.

He spoke softly to Jane, but Kitty held her breath and made out what he said. "Uh, yeah. I'm a little hard up, and I was wondering if there was anything I could do to earn a cup of coffee and a pancake or something. "

Jane smiled kindly. "Sorry, there's nothing. This is our slowest night of the year. " The man looked around, at faded tinsel garlands strung around the walls, at the movie playing on the TV, and blinked at Jane in confusion. "It's Christmas," she said.

He glanced at the TV again with a look of terrible sadness.

This scene pushed all Kitty's curiosity buttons. The urge could not be denied.

It was all she could do not to rush straight at him, but if he'd been startled and tense at her just looking at him, she could imagine what that would do. He was on edge - more wolf than human almost, even though full moon was over a week away.

She walked toward him, her gaze down and her posture loose. He backed up a step at her approach. She tried to put on a pleasant, non-threatening face.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to interrupt, but you look like you could use a cup of coffee. Can I buy you one?" She laced her hands behind her back. He started to shake his head, and she said, "No strings, nothing funny. Consider it a Christmas present from another one of the tribe who doesn't have anywhere else to go. " She glanced at Jane, who smiled and reached under the counter for a cup and saucer.

"Hi. I'm Kitty. " She offered her hand. Didn't really expect the guy to shake it, and he didn't. It wasn't a wolfish gesture. She'd never seen a lycanthrope look so out of place in human clothing.

He took a moment to register the name, then pursed his lips in a stifled laugh. He actually smiled. There was a handsome guy under the hard times. "I'm sorry, but that's the funniest thing I've heard in a while. "

She wrinkled her nose. "It gets a little old, believe me. "

"How did a were - " He cut himself off when Jane returned with the pot of coffee.

"Why don't we go talk about it?" Kitty said, nodding back toward her booth.

A moment later, they were sitting across from each other, each of them with fresh cups of coffee. Jane also brought over a plate of pancakes. David gazed up at her sheepishly, blushing. Embarrassed, Kitty decided. He didn't like the charity. But he drowned the pancakes with syrup and dug into them.

Around bites, he finished his thought. "How did a werewolf end up with a name like Kitty?"

"The better question is, How did someone named Kitty end up as a werewolf? That's a long story. "

"It's almost as bad as a werewolf named Harry. "

Perish the thought. "Oh my God, your name isn't - "

"No," he said, ducking his gaze. "It's David. "

"Well, David. It's nice to meet you. Though I have to say, I wasn't expecting to see another one of us walk through the door. Are you from around here?"

"No. I've been on the road awhile. "

"That's what I thought. "

He hadn't yet taken a sip of his coffee, but he wrapped a hand around the cup, clinging to it like he could draw out its warmth. He hunched over, gazing out at the world with uncertainty. He probably didn't realize how odd he looked, coming out of the cold without a coat. Werewolves didn't feel the cold as much.

Looking at the tabletop, he said, "I've never met another one. Not ever. But I could tell, as soon as I walked in here I could smell you and I knew. I almost walked right back out again. "