The grays halted just past the meatery. The taller of the two said, “You’ll need no money here. Simply choose your taste for each meal and order. In return we expect you to help. There is a roster rotation and you will be advised of your shifts.”
We nodded and they left us there. Quale stayed with us.
This was different than the way Stratford worked. Sure, everyone pitched in to run our town, but we also had jobs that we applied for after school. Some of them were limited, and you might miss out, but mostly we chose the career we were to have.
I hadn’t had to work yet because I was still in college. And the quads, well, they didn’t have to worry for a long time about menial labor, since they were to be the next leaders.
The boys took the news of their impending dish-pig duties like real men, not a single whine, moan, or bitch to be heard.
Quale patted Jacob on the arm, before snatching his hand back at the look on the fey’s face.
“Don’t worry on it too much,” he said, covering his nerves with words. “I will make sure you don’t receive any of the particularly distasteful tasks. With so many supernaturals here, it takes quite a while to rotate around duties.”
Great. Awesome. All fantastic news.
But let’s bring the focus back, Mr. Gray Fey – food me now.
“Guys, Jessa has the look again.” Tyson pretended to struggle and hold me back. At least I think he was pretending, since my feet had started to move on their own.
Braxton laughed. “Time to feed our girl.”
Quale was more talkative now, giving us the reviews on each place we passed by. There was something from every culture and country … but my heart was set on Italian. It was one of my favorites and it felt like years since I’d seen pizza and pasta. I didn’t even need a guide; the scent of garlic and oregano led the way. I could have found the sidewalk eatery with my eyes closed.
I barely took the time to notice the red awnings and jumble of white-clothed tables in and outside the roomy space. I escaped Tyson’s clutches to run inside, ignoring the glances from the dozen or so supernaturals who were already eating – lucky bastards.
A shifter was behind the counter. I didn’t have time to scent his animal, I was too busy starving to death.
My words came out in a rush. “I’m going to need one of everything.” There was probably a menu somewhere, but who the hell had time for things like that.
The male grinned, and I was distracted for a split second. He was cute, but way too soft for my taste. I liked my men large and hard. This shifter screamed gentle. He was probably a rabbit or something prey-like.
“Well, yes, ma’am, I’m more than happy to oblige your request.” Flirting, and a southern accent … interesting that the first supernatural I talked to here was American.
A shadow fell over us. “If another ma’am comes out of your mouth, you’re going to be bouncing on one leg, rabbit.” Braxton looked unamused. And I’d totally guessed the animal correctly. “We’re going to need enough food for eight hungry supes.”
The lanky rabbit, with his caramel skin and black hair, seemed to actually pale under the stare of the dragon. Braxton had that effect on most males.
The server scurried off to pass the order on to those out the back. Braxton laced his fingers through mine, and without actually dragging me, made it very clear that we needed to go back outside.
I didn’t fight him. We had to present a strong united front against all those watching us. But what the actual heck was going on with Braxton? Sure, he was always protective and dominant, but that right then had been mate-like, the way he had declared me his territory. Okay, he hadn’t said those words exactly, but the gesture was clear. He was staking his claim on me.
Which was not awesome. I was seriously going to get zero action with his brand of ownership across my back.
My dragon and I were going to be having some words soon. That was for sure.
Chapter 5
Our food took an exorbitantly long time to arrive. I started tapping my foot after five minutes, and by the ten minute mark Mischa was practically sitting on me to keep me in my seat.
“Come on, let me go in there, this is freaking ridiculous.”
Mischa was grinning. “Jess, it’s been like twelve minutes, that’s not a long time to wait.”
I was a growling, spitting, hissing mess. Okay, probably not that bad, but I was getting mighty pissed. It wasn’t the same for all the supernatural groups, but shifters were part animal, and if you let an animal get hungry … well, we were likely to rip your face off, or some other body part you were probably quite fond of.
I was exactly three minutes from the point of no return.
Thankfully, at that moment rabbit boy strolled out the front door holding two large plates, and moved toward the section of the patio we had commandeered. He carried pizza.
“Seriously,” I snarled at him, “what sort of Italian place doesn’t even have bread on the table.”
He didn’t blink twice. Clearly I wasn’t the first to snap at him. Instead he produced a basket of bread with a dish of garlic-infused oil balancing precariously on top – Where the hell had that been? – and placed it right in front of me.
Mischa held both hands in front of her as if appealing to someone with common sense. “Sorry about Jessa. She’s not herself when she’s hungry.”
My gaze snapped across to her. “Did you just quote a fucking Snickers advertisement at me?”