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“He figured that out right quick, didn’t he?” Chuckie snickered.
I raised my head from the bowl, eyes narrowing.
“What happened?” I asked.
Stella huffed and stormed back to the kitchen as Chuckie rolled his eyes.
“Nothing,” he insisted. “Some wolf from out of town rolled in here. Didn’t exactly sit well with our crew.”
He grinned to show a missing tooth and another gold-capped molar in the back.
My curiosity was piqued.
“A wolf? You sure?” I asked. “What did he look like?”
Chuckie snorted. “Like he didn’t belong,” he repeated, this time with more firmness, and my jaw twitched.
That could have meant several different things, but I wasn’t about to push the issue. Suddenly, I’d lost my appetite, the mere implication of their bigotry ruining my day. I reached into the back pocket of my jeans to throw a bill on the counter, and Chuckie snatched it up.
“Be safe out there, you hear?” Chuckie called after me. “All kinds running around today.”
I ignored him and headed back into the afternoon, drops of rain finally splattering out of the sky and spreading toward the desert. It would be a mud bath out there soon.
Picking up the pace, I headed to my last drop of the day, but as I ventured closer to the final destination, a strange magnetism jolted through me, twisting along my spine like a knife.
The outline of Terry’s place appeared, a streak of lightning crashing over the sky to strike behind the barren soil at the back of the single-story hut. Ten or fifteen bikes lined the exterior of the bar, alongside a few cars, nothing unusual, and yet every atom in my body charged in all directions at once.
What the hell is wrong with me? Did Stella put stow in that shit colcannon or something?
I stood at the edge of the unpaved lot, vibrating uncertainly. A part of me wanted to rush inside while another side of me warned me to turn and run far and fast.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t know which instinct to trust.
Chapter5
Elijah
Stupid. That was what this entire journey had been, and I cursed every step I’d taken into it.
My head remained low, fixated on the now-warm beer in front of me, distinctly aware of the eyes on me, but it wasn’t as bad as the last place I’d mistakenly wandered into. I should have known better from the second I’d ridden up in the late model-sedan I’d scored from Montshire, the bulging eyes on me as if they’d never seen a foreigner in their lives.
“You’re in the wrong place, boy,” I could still hear the half-toothless bartender sneering. “Best be on your way.”
It didn’t take me long to see myself out of there, even before I could ask any questions about Pario City, the borders of which I’d crossed a few miles back.
This place wasn’t proving much more useful to my quest, even if the overt stares were less. I wasn’t wanted here. I could smell their guardedness, if not animus, as the neighboring tables ate around me.
“Excuse me.” I signaled for my server, a tired-looking human who was the friendliest face I’d seen since my trip had started.
“Need another beer, sweetie?” she asked.
I swallowed my disdain at the pet name, not wanting to make any enemies when I had so few friends already. Forcing a smile on my face, I shook my head.
“No, thanks,” I said.
“You have lovely eyes,” she told me, peering closer to look at me. “So clear and green… or are they gold?”
I withdrew, unaccustomed to anyone getting so close to me without smelling wariness all over them. Unabashed, she remained in place.
