AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He squeezed me tighter. “But I can’t help it. I’m with you. I never thought that would be possible, and now we have a shot.”
He stopped in front of a brick building. The sign above it was faded and worn, but even my nonwerewolf nose could smell the fried food beyond the doors.
“You ready to do this?” He said it quietly, like we were about to do something scary, but we were actually just going into the restaurant.
“I am a little scared, but let’s go in there anyway.” I pulled the door open, and he shook his head, stepping behind me.
“Princesses first.”
I groaned. “Stop it.” But I still had that stupid smile on my face.
There was plenty of room in the restaurant, but there were a few groups seated inside, along with an old man tucked in a corner, only his white hair was visible above the newspaper he had open. Plastic-coated red-and-white checkered tablecloths covered the wobbly looking tables. A waitress waved us inside, with a hurried “anywhere you like” as she walked by carrying a tray of food.
Chris was still as he watched the food—nostrils flaring at all the food smells—and his stomach grumbled. Loudly.
One day with no meat and he was ravenous? Gales wouldn’t have starved him. There was no way he was really that hungry. “It’s only been a day.”
“Yeah, but Eli had me walking in those dunes for a full day. I burned a ton of calories, and haven’t refueled. I haven’t really refueled enough since the fight with Astaroth. I was still eating when Eli showed up.” He moved around the tables, to find one against a side window away from everyone else, but only two tables from the old man.
Wait. Did he say yesterday? “God. That feels like forever ago.”
The chair moaned under Chris’ weight. “Well, it’s been weeks for you, but not me.”
The waitress skidded to a stop beside our table. She was wearing a pair of worn jeans and a gray T-shirt that had a series of tiny holes at the neck from too many washings.
She cleared her throat and pulled out a pencil and notepad from her apron. “What can I get y’all?”
Chris turned to her. “I’ll have four orders of chicken fried steak. Mashed potatoes. Corn. Bread. And water. Lots of ice.”
The waitress looked at me for a second, then back to Chris. “Y’all have other people joining you? Because if so, you might want to think about moving tables. This is Texas. Our plates are huge. We’re not fancy here, but our portions will fill you up and leave you with extras to take home.”
Chris smiled at her, his eyes twinkling just a bit in the sunlight that cut through the windows. “That order is all for me.”
The waitress tucked her notepad in her apron. “Look. If this is some kind of joke, you can leave. I’m not going to get stiffed with four steaks when you can’t—”
The newspaper crinkled as the old man closed it, folding it neatly on the table, before getting up to stand next to the waitress. He was wearing a plaid button-down shirt tucked into a pair of khaki pants. His white hair was cut short, but still stuck out a little on the sides.
His brown eyes narrowed while he studied Chris for a long moment. “Matthews, right? The boy?”
Chris tensed a little, and I wasn’t sure if he was upset or nervous or curious.
“That’s right,” Chris said.
“Thought you were dead. Lawyers around here say you’re still alive, but we hadn’t heard from any of you or your family for years. But then there you were on the TV a couple months ago. Your grandfather still around? We haven’t seen him in years.”
“No.” Chris’ voice was sharp.
“Anyone else from over there? Land’s been abandoned quite a while.”
“No. They’re all dead.” His rasp was getting deeper, more pronounced, and I reached across the table for his hand. He either didn’t notice or didn’t want it. He was so focused on the old man.
“Good. I’d ask if you were like them, but I saw the news. Helping in that chapel was a good thing. Saving the folks in New Mexico.” The old man placed one hand on our table, and leaned close to Chris, gazing directly into his eyes. “You’re different from the rest that lived here. What’s it called? The pack?”
Chris’ eyes started glowing and I knew his wolf was rising up. It was easy to forget that he didn’t mind talking about the past—about his pack—with me, but he didn’t know this man. And even if the old man remembered the pack living here, he either didn’t know or didn’t remember that he shouldn’t look a werewolf so closely in the eyes.
Time to help this man before something happened. If Chris really wanted to rebuild on the land, then he’d need the town’s support. We had to do this right.
“Hi. I’m Cosette. Chris’ mate.” I grinned at that. It felt nice. And it also got the old man to stand up and turn his focus to me. I didn’t care who stared into my eyes or how long they held the look. “Chris is the opposite of his pack, which is why I killed all of them about seven years ago and left him alive.”
