Which was not awesome. I was seriously going to get zero action with his brand of ownership across my back.
My dragon and I were going to be having some words soon. That was for sure.
Chapter 5
Our food took an exorbitantly long time to arrive. I started tapping my foot after five minutes, and by the ten minute mark Mischa was practically sitting on me to keep me in my seat.
“Come on, let me go in there, this is freaking ridiculous.”
Mischa was grinning. “Jess, it’s been like twelve minutes, that’s not a long time to wait.”
I was a growling, spitting, hissing mess. Okay, probably not that bad, but I was getting mighty pissed. It wasn’t the same for all the supernatural groups, but shifters were part animal, and if you let an animal get hungry … well, we were likely to rip your face off, or some other body part you were probably quite fond of.
I was exactly three minutes from the point of no return.
Thankfully, at that moment rabbit boy strolled out the front door holding two large plates, and moved toward the section of the patio we had commandeered. He carried pizza.
“Seriously,” I snarled at him, “what sort of Italian place doesn’t even have bread on the table.”
He didn’t blink twice. Clearly I wasn’t the first to snap at him. Instead he produced a basket of bread with a dish of garlic-infused oil balancing precariously on top – Where the hell had that been? – and placed it right in front of me.
Mischa held both hands in front of her as if appealing to someone with common sense. “Sorry about Jessa. She’s not herself when she’s hungry.”
My gaze snapped across to her. “Did you just quote a fucking Snickers advertisement at me?”
We had human television, I knew what she was doing. I opened my mouth to rage at her further, when Jacob leaned over and dunked a slice of bread and shoved it in my mouth.
“Run while you can,” Tyson side-whispered to rabbit boy, and sure enough, true to his breed he scampered away. I glared at the grinning mage, but truth be told I was already feeling better.
Damn, this bread was fragrant … and soft … and delicious. Maybe I wouldn’t have to kill myself a rabbit after all.
Food continued to arrive after that: masses of pizza, pasta, breads, salad. I ignored the green stuff, except to dig out the cheese, but managed to sample everything else. The Compasses and Quale did me proud by demolishing every scrap of food not tied down. Mischa and Grace made pitiful attempts to keep up.
It was remarkable Italian fare, rich and authentic. Someone knew what they were doing in that kitchen. I couldn’t wait to dine at the other restaurants. Maybe being stuck here for the next month wouldn’t be too bad.
As I was stuffing my mouth, I noticed two little girls sitting at a table across from us – a different restaurant, but right in my line of sight. They looked so familiar.
I leaned in Braxton’s direction. “Are those young supes from Nash’s group in Vanguard?”
They were dead ringers for the two who had torn my heart out, hugging each other. Braxton followed my gaze and stared for about three seconds before nodding.
“Yes, they were in the room.”
He’d probably scented them from over here. Dragons were scary like that.
I examined the girls again. They were sitting with other children, and a few adult shifters. It was no wonder I didn’t immediately recognize them. In Vanguard they had been thin, dirty, and expressionless. Here they were well dressed, clean, and clearly filling their mouths with food. They looked almost content. Well, except for the shadows deep in their eyes. No matter how relaxed they appeared, their body language still screamed of fear and wariness … yeah, not a huge surprise. Those poor children had been caged their entire lives.
I just hoped they found a semblance of peace in this sanctuary. The Four needed to die. Braxton distracted me by reaching across and grasping my hand. He didn’t say anything, but the look on his face said enough. He got me.
Rabbit boy appeared again, dropping off dessert before scampering away. I was almost too full to enjoy it, but I’d push through. Braxton released my hand, allowing me to reach for the chocolatey goodness.
Just as I was about to bite into my pastry, a nervous tension filtered through the street. Followed by an excited cheer that echoed around the market square, I dropped my uneaten sweet back to the plate. Then, as we stared around, supernaturals started running along the streets. Chairs were flung free and left overturned in their place, as if no one had the time to stop even for a moment.
I locked in on Quale. “What’s happening?” This secure – and suspicious – little community didn’t strike me as the type of place where supernaturals went nuts and started running in the streets. They were a little too dark in nature, dark and damaged. So what the hell was happening?