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"Hey!" one yelled as he walked in--though the clerk wasn't more than a couple meters away. "We want beer. You got beer?"
"We do not sell alcohol in these shops. You must go to a liquor store."
In unison, two of them repeated the guy's words, exaggerating his accent. I shook my head. Tourists. There were a couple of provinces that sold alcohol in corner stores, but I was guessing these were Americans. Our lower drinking age is a draw. Which was not to say that all drunken louts are obviously American--only the ones who didn't realize they couldn't buy beer in any store.
I'd moved back as far as I could without hiding, but when they took another step, they could see me.
"I bet she knows where we can find beer," said the redhead in front. "Hey, cutie, make you a deal. Tell us where to find some and you can come drinking with us."
"No, thank you," I said, straightening, so it wouldn't look like I was shrinking against the shelves.
"What makes you think she'd know where to find booze?" Ash came around the counter, gaze fixed on the guys as he moved between me and them.
I whispered for him to let it go, keeping my voice low enough that only he'd hear. He knew exactly why these guys thought I'd know where to find alcohol, but this really wasn't
the time for a lesson in racial stereotyping.
Ash kept moving forward. Stalking forward, like a cat, eyes on his prey, muscles tight, almost gliding across the floor, smooth and silent. The guys just snickered and jostled each other.
"Do you want a chocolate bar before we go?" I said to Ash. "I'm going to grab one."
His head whipped my way, eyes narrowed in a "What the hell?" look. I was trying to diffuse the situation. Of course, he didn't see that. He probably thought I was standing there, being insulted, and honestly thinking, You know, I'd like some chocolate.
"You go do that, cutie," the redhead said. "We'll get rid of your boyfriend for you."
"I'm her brother," Ash said.
"Oh? Good. So then you won't mind if I . . ." He suggested something we could do together. It wasn't "go see a movie." He got about halfway through before Ash took a swing at him. I was already mid-pounce and grabbed Ash's arm before it made contact. When I wrenched it back, he wheeled on me, lips curled in a snarl.
"You want to fight?" I whispered under my breath. "Fine. But if you do, I'll need to run before the cops show up."
He blinked and removed my hand from his arm. Then he nodded and rolled his shoulders. I could feel the rage pulsing off him. The drunk guys just stood there, snickering and lobbing insults. I zeroed in on the fourth guy, a blond who was hanging back, looking uncomfortable. I propelled Ash toward him, saying, "Excuse me," and he moved aside. I bustled Ash past before the others could block our escape.
"Morons," Ash muttered as we reached the sidewalk.
"Agreed," I said. "But picking a fight with them won't help."
"So you just put up with that crap?"
"No, I usually have a comeback, unless they're too drunk to get it, which those guys were. Now, let's put off buying a phone until morning and--"
"Hey!" The corner store door banged behind us. "Did we say you two rez rats could leave?"
"Keep walking," I murmured.
"I am," he said, with a growl that told me it wasn't easy.
"Hey, you. Half-breed. I'm talking to you."
Ash slowed, tensing fast, and when I gripped his arm, I could feel the muscles bunching.
"Keep walking, Ash," I whispered. "Please keep walking."
"That's what I'm doing, isn't it?"
"Yo! Half-breed. Bring your sister back here. We're not done with her yet. Hell, we haven't even started with her yet."
Laughter from the others. I had Ash's arm in a vise grip now, practically dragging him along, his sneakers scraping the sidewalk, as if he was two seconds from wheeling and charging.
