The Alpha s Guardian

Charlotte Sanguinite POV:

"Sorry, sorry!" I pushed my way past the customers already lining up in front of the counter to get their coffee. I missed the bus! "I'll be with you in a minute, Jazz! I didn't wait for my colleague's response, rushing into the back room and throwing open my locker. I stuff everything inside, running my fingers through my long, red curls before tying them up in a tight bun. I'm already aware of the prominent bags under my forest green eyes. No amount of ice or cold spoons has been able to get rid of them.

Fortunately, I was smart enough to put on my uniform before leaving home. Vampires can move fast, but while I'm of that species, aside from the blood I have to drink regularly to survive, I don't have any of their special attributes. Which is why running all the way from my apartment to the small coffee shop on Northeast 4th Avenue has me out of breath. I wheeze a bit before hurrying back out front. Jazz, with her pink hair and bold silver eyeshadow, has the customers eyeing her with blatant interest.

"Three lattes and two espressos, Charlotte," Jazz says, her voice throaty. I notice the red marks around her neck and press my lips together, trying to rein in my curiosity about what she and her boyfriend, Marcus, were up to last night. Jazz and Marcus have a similar style of dressing: outrageously bold hairstyles, dark leather clothes, and more often than not, spiked chokers around their necks. The only reason Jazz works here is that her father recently bought this café. That's not to say that Jazz isn't a hard worker or a nice person. She looks intimidating, but she's a sweetheart.

"Gotcha." I tied the apron around my waist before calling out, "Sorry, folks. My bad. "I'll have your coffee with you in a jiffy!" "Did you work late last night?" Jazz asks, handing me another slip and bagging a muffin. I yawn as I froth some milk in a jug. "Yeah. I was making the dough, so Gina could get a head start on the croissants. Got home around two."

"Did you log your hours?"

"Yup," I grin. "Need the overtime."

"You also need sleep." Jazz gave me a sharp look as I handed her two of the lattes. "You look like death warmed over."

"You have such a way with words, Jazz." I rolled my eyes at her. "New customer. Look out."

She gets back to taking orders and filling up the cash register while I keep preparing the early morning caffeine drinks that nearly the entire street drops by to purchase. Having a coffee shop located in such a busy business district of Portland has its advantages. I always wondered why the previous owner sold off this place. But Jazz's father, with his magic business touch, has brought new life to it. A wooden ambiance that provides a romantic setting in the evenings and a comfortable workplace for freelancers in the mornings has brought a lot of customers here. Which means the tips are hefty.

It takes us more than an hour to get through the majority of the morning rush. At the end of it, Jazz stretches her arms over her head. "Man, I hate the morning shift."

"Why did you get assigned to the morning again?" I asked her as I prepared a vanilla frappé for her. I'm already munching on a muffin.

Jazz rounds the counter and sits down in one of the booths, stretching her legs over the seat. Dad caught me sneaking out with Marcus for a concert.

His plan is to work me to death, I guess.

I glanced at her wrist. "From the look of it, you still managed to sneak out again last night."

She smirks and tries to rub away the stamp mark from the club she must have visited. "Marcus had his band playing there. I swear, if it weren't for the trust fund, I would have moved out the minute I turned eighteen, two months ago."

"Sure," I scoffed. And leave your old father alone in that mansion of his?

With no one to look after him? I doubt it."

"I could do it!" Jazz tries to sound convincing, and I laugh, handing her the drink.

"Jazz, you love your dad. You're not going anywhere. He's just worried about you. You know that."