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“At what?”
“Getting along with everyone. Making everyone love you. I mean except for Jamie and his goon squad.” She leaned over the table, raising her left eyebrow so the stud pierced through it caught the light. “Are you sure you’re really a werewolf, and not some sort of siren?”
“I don’t know, why?” I laughed. “Are my powers of persuasion working on you? Are you suddenly falling in love with me? Ready to drive one of these boats into a cliff or something?”
She shook her head smiling. “What?”
“Isn’t that what sirens always did? Called sailors to their deaths or something?”
“I don’t know, but you’ve sure done something to Jamie, that’s for sure,” she said.
“Wha—”
I was interrupted by the waitress who’d told us we could seat ourselves carrying over a tray laden with massive plates of eggs, pancakes and bacon.
“I hope you girls are hungry,” she grunted, setting it down on the table next to us. She carried each plate over and we squeezed it in where we could. “Did Leland take your drink order?”
“No, can we get two water pitchers please,” Maria asked, looking up at her. Polite as ever.
The woman nodded and disappeared leaving us to our meals. Maria dug in without hesitation. I on the other hand was still waiting for her to explain what she meant, and I wasn’t quite sure where to start.
It’d been a while since I’d chowed down without worrying about what the world around me would think. Werewolves had excellent metabolisms. Almost too excellent. We burned through calories like machines. We were always starving, and no matter how much I ate I never gained more than a pound.
“The food…isn’t gonna bite you,” Maria said around a mouthful of pancakes.
I glared at her. “I know. I’m just waiting for you to explain. What have I done to Jamie?”
“I haven’t seen that boy defendanyonethe way he defended you last night,” she said. “He’s usually too busy screwing his bitch of the week or doing whatever Adrian’s ordered him to do.”
I shrugged. “I’m not surprised he’s like that, he was always chasing after the girls in high school. But he saved my life so I’m grateful.”
“It’s definitely not how he treated you in high school,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bully go after someone the way he went after you. I’ll never forget the day he stole your stuff out of the locker room. I could have killed him.”
I snorted. “I nearly did.”
“Yeah, I think he still has the scars from your claws on his shoulder,” she said, smiling around her glass.
I swallowed another mouthful of food and took a sip of water. Anything to try and hide the growing hunger burning my gut. I’d seen Jamie’s scars in the woods. The ones I’d given him, and all the others. My hands still itched to trace their lines, to kiss away the memories that made them, but why? I hated that son of a—
“Are you okay?” Maria asked, jarring me from my thoughts.
I blinked at her a few times before I found the ability to speak. “Yeah, why?”
“Um, you just bent that fork in half?” She chuckled nervously.
I glanced down at my hand, and quickly returned the utensil to its natural state. “Whoops.”
“I repeat, are you alright?”
I sat back and exhaled a long sigh. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
