entity of the crowd. She chose her position in the shadows, out of the paths of the roving, multi-
colored spotlights. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of the undulating human
pheromones flying around on the air. At the beginning of every shift, she allowed herself a few
minutes of this alien/human experience, though she didn’t fully comprehend the combination of
dancing, drinking, and ear-breaking sound waves. They loved it, however, and never seemed to
deviate from the recipe.
These were the people she was sworn to protect. She had developed a light affection for
the human race and considered them a benign, if not slightly silly, bunch of creatures. Her
religious passion for her job was rooted in hatred of that which harmed the humans, not a
superhero tendency to protect the weak.
Forest opened her eyes and focused all her senses to sniff out the illegal suckers that
tried to sneak through the portal. She was in the zone tonight, and not for the first time did she
feel that hers was the best job in existence. It was a shame she couldn’t legally kill suckers in her
native world.
Over the next two hours, Forest didn’t move from the wall. She monitored the light
traffic through the portal: two shifters and one elf, each of which nodded to her respectfully as
they passed. Yawn. The shifters left the club to enjoy the delights of Austin’s nightlife
elsewhere.
The elf would have been breaking Regia’s law had he left the club, but he dutifully seated
himself at the bar and ordered a fuzzy navel. He wore a plaid, porkpie hat, pulled down over the
tops of his pointed ears. Forest didn’t know him personally, but she had seen him in here before.
The bartender surveyed him with narrowed eyes as the elf nervously tugged his hat down further
and ordered a few more girly cocktails.
Intent on making sure that not one sucker was able to sneak past her, Forest was
blindsided by the drunk bubba who had been trying to catch her eye for the last twenty minutes.
He had finally decided to stagger over to hit on her.
“Hey babe, you’re too beautiful to look so lonely. How’s ‘bout I buy you a drink?”
“How’s ‘bout I call you a cab instead?” Forest mimicked his drawl.
“Only if you share it with me, Darlin.” He leaned in closer, and Forest’s throat began to
sting from the noxious fume of booze mixed with his natural musk.
“While I appreciate the offer, Jethro, it seems only right to inform you that I’m not
actually attractive at all. If you leaned in a little closer, you’d see that you’ve fallen victim to the
effect of beer goggles. A hag like me can’t take advantage of a stud like you.”
As he leaned in, Forest instantly enlarged her nose, pockmarked her skin, evaporated her
front teeth, and added a large black mole with a long hair sprouting from it for good measure.
“You’re no hag, baby! You’re the sexiest little thing in…I…uh…” He stumbled
backward. “Good grief! Sorry, sorry…” he stammered, retreating. “I’ve gotta quit drinking,” he
mumbled as he turned away.
Forest chuckled to herself once he absorbed back into the crowd. Being a shape shifter
sometimes had unusual perks.
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