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“That’s it, Charlie!”
I looked down at my stomach, at where Charlie’s deceptively skinny arms locked fists, then shoved straight up into me. A horrible noise gurgled from my throat. Something landed in a splat on the table in front of me.
Oh, not half a patty. Two half patties. And a puddle of drool. And something else besides. There was something gleaming in between the burgers. Something shiny and gold.
Charlie clapped me on the back, then reached for the golden thing, patting it with a paper napkin, then lifting it with one gloved hand.
“He won,” Charlie cried out. “The Lucky Patty. He found the Lucky Patty.”
The fucking what?
Chapter 2
“Sixty dollars,” Sterling chortled, shaking his head, slapping his thigh. “Sixty whole dollars. That’s what your life is worth. Amazing.”
“Shut up,” I mumbled, gratefully accepting the cup of water Charlie handed me. “Just please, shut up.”
“Again, please think of the three twenty-dollar gift cards as compensation for your – inconvenience,” the Happy Cow’s manager said through rows of perfect teeth. “And how exciting for you to have won the Lucky Patty.”
“Dude,” Mason whispered right in my ear, nudging me in the ribs. “You should sue and get way more than sixty bucks. Can you even breathe properly?”
“Yeah,” Asher said. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“I was choking,” I growled. “How is that supposed to help?”
Asher shrugged. “What if it cut off some oxygen from your brain? I’m just trying to be helpful.”
“If you’re talking brain damage, too late for that,” Sterling said. “Can’t get any dumber than Dust.”
“I did not come here on this day to be choked out by a hamburger,” I said, clapping my hands for emphasis. “I’ve got enough problems staying alive.” Agatha Black, for example. I downed the last of my water angrily, then crushed the paper cup in my hand. “There was an entire cardboard disc inside the damn burger. Or have you forgotten? What the hell was that thing even doing in there?”
The manager beamed at me. “What I think you’re really asking is what you’ve won because you found the Lucky Patty.” She pushed her hands into her hips, her chest thrusting out with corporate pride. “At Happy, Inc., we live to serve our customers, whether it’s through the delicious grilled burgers from the Happy Cow, or the creamy, tasty milk tea you can get at the Happy Boba.”
I grumbled, shaking my head. “I know all that. I’ve been supporting your restaurants for years. Get to the point.”
“Oh, sure.” The manager’s grin never faltered, but I was sure I spotted a twitch in the corner of her eye. “The Lucky Patty represents the millionth burger that we’ve served in the Valero chain of the Happy Cow. Congratulations, sir. You’ve won a full-day tour of Happy, Inc.”
My jaw hit the table. Suddenly, almost choking half to death didn’t sound like such a bad deal. “I – what? You mean it? I get to go to Happy, Inc. headquarters?”
The manager nodded so quickly that her head could have snapped right off. “That’s right. Happy, Inc. HQ, right here in the heart of Valero. In Central Square, in fact.” She placed her fingers lightly on my forearm. “This isn’t some visit around a stinky factory. You’ll be toured around corporate HQ, where you’ll be plied with the best treats and merchandise that good old Happy, Inc. has to offer.”
Hope bloomed like a flower in my chest. I looked up at Miss Manager with the open eagerness of a toddler. “Can – can I bring a friend?”
The Happy Cow could have exploded from the brilliance of her smile. “Sir, you can bring three. And that’s not the best part.” She clasped her hands together, the gesture so deliberate, almost prayerful. “You’ll also get to meet our CEO.”
“That’s,” I started to say, grinding my nails into the table to stop myself from gushing. “That’s nice.”
I swear, I could have exploded right there and then. I was going to meet the person behind all of my favorite fast food restaurants. The big cheese. The biggest of kahunas. I know, it sounds juvenile and ridiculous, but consider for a moment that my life is a constant cycle of nearly being killed and just barely saving the world. I deserved comfort. No, comfort food. And visiting Happy, Inc. meant stepping into the court of the actual king – or queen – of Californian comfort food.
“We’ll take your details in a moment,” Miss Manager said. “For now, please enjoy the rest of your meal – and the complimentary gift cards. When you’re done, I’ll make arrangements for your visit to HQ and your meeting with Mr. Thorpe.”
Mr. Thorpe. King it was, then.
Less than half an hour later we were back on the street, my handsome life and ability to breathe intact, but Mason and Asher steadily getting on my nerves with their whining. Sterling and I were really only stopping for dinner en route to an actual meeting with the friendlier bits of the Lorica. Bastion and the others had settled on a bar, and with both nephilim and necromancer being technically underage, the only answer was to kick them both into a cab and send them home sulking to the Boneyard.
“We’ve talked about this before, Asher,” Sterling snarled. “I realize it bothers you that your powers have matured enough to raise the dead, but you still aren’t quite old enough to step into a bar.”
“We’ll find like a coffee shop nearby,” Asher whined. “Please? We won’t wander off or anything.”
