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T he old neon sign buzzed like it always had, SHIFT FACED, blinking unevenly against the cloudy April sky. Billie Ann Carter stood just outside the bar’s entrance. Her breath came slow and shallow. Not because she was cold, but because stepping through that door meant admitting the truth.

Davey wouldn’t be there to greet her like he had done hundreds of times before.

Billie Ann’s throat tightened as she stared at the crooked sign that once made her laugh.

The place hadn’t changed. The windows were still tinted to keep prying human eyes out, and the iron “No Fang, No Fur, No Problem” sign Davey hung beside the entrance still made her lips twitch.

He had put it up for her because she was human.

Of course, with the bar being in Assjacket, no humans were allowed, only her.

The bar was barely more than a local watering hole.

But it had become something more, a neutral ground for paranormals.

It was a safe place for Shifters, Witches, and other paranormal beings

Davey had been a Crow Shifter with a heart too big for his own good.

A man who’d fallen in love with a human woman, Billie Ann’s mother, Angie, and then stepped up when cancer took her far too young.

Billie Ann had only been nine when she lost her mom, and Davey didn’t hesitate.

He adopted her, raised her, and loved her like she was his blood.

Now, she was walking into the bar he’d built, and he wasn’t there...all because of a fight that shouldn’t have turned deadly.

The details were still murky. Supposedly, an altercation at the bar, a pack of out-of-town shifters looking for trouble. That was the story that was being told, but Billy Ann wasn’t sold on that story. Something about it just didn’t add up.

What broke her heart more than anything was that Billie Ann hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye.

The funeral was tomorrow. She hadn’t been back for almost a year because of her job, but she talked to her stepfather almost daily via FaceTime, but that was no more. She had loved him so much. He was her rock, and now he was gone.

She took a shaky breath and pushed the bar door open.

The scent of Shift Faced hit her like a wave. It smelled familiar of aged whiskey, cedar, and Davey’s Old Spice Cologne. Tears filled her eyes at the memories of smells that assaulted her senses.

Her boots echoed against the wooden floorboards as she walked inside, each step a reminder of the girl she used to be. She had loved this place and still did.

“Billie Ann,” Mac said, voice low, warm, and familiar.

Turning, she saw him enter from the back. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with chocolate-brown hair and a presence that made people instinctively straighten up. He was King of the Shifters and had been the one to call and tell her of Davey’s death.

“Mac,” she whispered. Her voice caught, and she thought she might break for a moment.

Mac, who was like an uncle to her, wrapped her in his arms. “I’m so damn sorry.” His voice was rough with emotion as he held her. Then he pulled back, looking down at her.

“What happened, Mac?” Her throat felt tight. “How did this happen?” All Mac had told her when he called was that her stepfather had been killed and there was an investigation.

“We don’t know for sure.” Mac frowned, his eyes turning angry. “Billie, we are still investigating, but I swear to you we will find out who is responsible for Davey’s death.”

“I know you will, Mac,” Billie replied, knowing that Mac would find Davey’s killer. She trusted him. “I just can’t believe this is real. Davey didn’t have any enemies, did he?”

“Not that I know of.” Mac shook his head. “We’ve been talking to everyone who was here that night. I’m bringing in someone who will find the one responsible.”

Billie Ann nodded, her fingers absently rubbing the old wood of the bar top, worn smooth by years of use and spilled drinks.

She could almost feel Davey watching her, a familiar warmth lingering in the shadows.

The silence stretched for a beat before she spoke, her voice soft and thick with emotion.

“Thank you for setting up the funeral arrangements.” Her throat tightened as the words left her. “My boss is a real asshole. He only gave me three days off.”

“Zelda did everything,” Mac replied gently, reaching for a yellow envelope he’d placed on the bar. “She wanted to be here today, but something came up.”

“Witch business.” Billie Ann smiled with a knowing chuckle.

Yeah, Witch business.” Mac grinned back, shaking his head. Zelda was one of a kind. “She asked me to tell you she wants you to stay at our place while you’re in town.”

Billie Ann gave a faint smile. “I bet those twins keep you two running wild.”

Mac let out a soft chuckle. “They do. You probably won’t recognize them. Henry’s trying to shift already. Zelda’s convinced he’s part squirrel with how he climbs everything.”

That brought a real smile to Billie Ann’s lips. “I can’t wait to see them.”

No one said anything for a second. Billie was doing her best to keep her shit together. Sitting here seemed unreal without Davey behind the bar.

“Listen, I really appreciate the invite,” she said, voice steadier now. “But I’m going to stay in the trailer tonight. I need a little time to figure out how the hell I’m going to get through tomorrow.”

“I don’t know, Billie.” Mac frowned. “With this guy still running around, he might come back.”

Billie’s eyes narrowed. “That would be a big mistake.” Billie Ann growled. “I know where Davey kept his shotgun and how to use it extremely well.”

Mac’s expression softened, his eyes steady on hers. “You don’t have to face this alone.”

“I know.” Billie’s chin trembled, and she blinked fast, refusing to let the tears fall. “You and Zelda… you were everything to Davey. He talked about you both like you hung the damn moon.”

“He was special,” Mac said quietly. Then he cleared his throat and held out the envelope again. “This is for you.”

Billie Ann hesitated, then took it slowly, its weight strangely heavy in her hands. “What is this?”

“The bar is yours, Billie.” Mac nodded toward the envelope. “Davey left everything to you. Shift Faced, the land, and the trailer.”

Her mouth fell open in shock. “What? Are you serious?”

Mac nodded solemnly. “All you have to do is sign the papers.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the key ring, which was thick, worn, and unmistakably familiar. He then held it out to her.

Billie Ann took it with trembling fingers, her breath catching as the keys pressed into her palm.

She stared down at the ring, its weight familiar.

She couldn’t remember a time Davey hadn’t had it clipped to his belt loop, the jangle of keys announcing his every step.

He used to joke that they were magic...“Not for spells,” he’d say, “but for keeping the peace.”

Now they were hers. She blinked, her vision blurring with tears that welled too fast to stop.

Mac’s hand covered hers gently. “Billie, you don’t have to run the bar if you don’t want to,” he said, voice low and kind. “You can sell it. We’ll help you. Whatever you decide, we’ve got your back.”

She sniffed, trying to keep her chin from trembling. “You’re a good friend, Mac.”

Her eyes drifted around the bar. The dented jukebox sat in the corner like an old friend.

The scarred wooden floor she once skidded across in socked feet brought back so many memories her heart hurt.

This place was her childhood, teenage hideout, and refuge when things got too loud at school or too quiet at home. It was Davey’s heart, and part of hers.

“I love this place,” she whispered, almost to herself. “But... what if I’m not cut out for this? What if I fail?”

Mac’s gaze didn’t waver. “You won’t,” he said simply, firmly. “Because Davey didn’t choose you out of obligation. He chose you because he knew you could do it.”

Her throat tightened.

“You’ve got his fire, Billie Ann,” he added. “And your own kind of magic.”

She let out a soft, shaky laugh, her fingers tightening around the keys. Maybe she couldn’t hear Davey’s voice, but in that moment, she could feel him in the creak of the barstools and the scent of aged wood.

“I’ll do it,” she said finally, quiet but certain. “For him.”

And just like that, the keys were no longer heavy with grief. They were a promise for a future...her future.