I land with a jolt in front of Slice of Life, coming down a bit too hard, my boots smacking the pavement. I’m still frowning as I stalk inside, only to be greeted with the high cry of “Pizza!” from several pixies. Warm air wraps around me, redolent with the scent of yeasty bread and garlic.
“Lukendevener!” Blue breaks away from the flock to fly over to me. She hovers, tiny blue hands on her hips. “We haven’t seen you lately. Don’t tell me you’re favoring another restaurant.”
“I’ve been eating at home.” Because I’ve had Skye’s wonderful cooking to enjoy. “No other restaurants,” I add quickly, wanting to keep the pixies on my good side. They may be small, but one should never underestimate their ability for mischief, especially when they have access to one’s food.
The pixie’s eyes narrow as she assesses me, then she says, “You will eat the pizzaIpick.”
“I will.”
Blue gives a sharp nod and darts toward the kitchen, yelling in the high, whistling speech pixies use amongthemselves.
While I wait, I cross my arms and lean one shoulder against the wall, taking in the room. Candleholders shaped like red hearts have replaced the regular ones on each table, and similar designs decorate the walls. Couples fill every table, and everywhere I look, they’re holding hands or laughing together or gazing at each other with adoring expressions.
The door opens behind me, and a wood nymph enters, one willowy arm wrapped around the shoulders of a tall blond human, who wears shiny black skin-tight shorts that strain over his muscled thighs. The men lean toward each other, like trees growing together, and when the human laughs, I could swear I see new buds sprout in the nymph’s willow-leaf hair.
“Jared! Eolar!” Blue waves them into the room. “I’ve got your table ready.”
“Thanks, Blue.” The blond human pulls out his phone. “Okay if I snap a few pics for my news blog? I’m doing a story on how the new businesses downtown are going all out decorating for Valentine’s.”
“Free publicity?” The pixie grins, showing off an alarming number of needle-sharp teeth. “Take as many pictures as you like.”
Several couples are happy to have their photos taken, wrapping their arms around each other or pausing in the middle of giving each other kisses on the cheek. Everyone looks deliriously happy and in love.
It seems this Valentine’s Day thing is spreading and should be considered potentially contagious.
A growl rumbles in my chest, the tip of my lashing tail hitting each side of the doorway, making repetitive thunks like an angry metronome.
Blue leads a group of pixies toward me, and as soon as they drop the delivery box in my hand, she shoos me out the door. “Go growl and grumble somewhere else. You’re bad for business when you’re like this.”
A snarl curls my lips, baring my fangs. Dragons are superior fae! I’d never be this disrespected in Faerie, where my true form is as big as this entire restaurant. Yet I bite back my retort, remembering once again that the pixies have the ability to refuse to serve me. I shudder at the thought of needing to bribe Shadow to buy me pizza.
I stalk down the sidewalk, trying to ignore the pink and red hearts decorating all of the shops and the couples wandering along, hand in hand. Since when is this entire world nothing but couples? At least there won’t be any such nonsense at The Thirsty Tusk.
Except I’m wrong.
The door to the pub swings open on a roomful of revelers, several drinking decidedly pink drinks. There are even—horror of horrors—beer mats shaped like hearts.
I stomp up to the bar and poke at one with a claw. “By the goddess, what is this?”
Thorvinn scowls at me and grunts, covering the offending object with a tankard of ale.
A chuckle sounds beside me as Shadow steps out of thin air, holding his own pizza box. “Jasmine talked him into it.”
The orc glares at the werepanther, his green cheeks darkening.
“Our friend here is having woman trouble.”
“No woman,” Thorvinn grumbles, polishing a series of glasses, his movements quick and jerky. “No trouble.”
“Whatever you say, my friend.” Shadow grins and slides onto the stool beside mine.
We open our pizza boxes in tandem, mine containing a pie topped with red bell peppers, mushrooms, and onions… and not a single smidgeon of meat. It seems I have a way to go to get back in Blue’s good books.
This time, I don’t stop Shadow from stealing a piece, because I’m more than happy to take one of his, which has sausage and spinach on top of a creamy white sauce.
When he sees me devour it, he bumps his box closer. “We can swap for another.”
“Thanks.”
