“Oh, and horseradish if they have it.”
“For pulled pork?”
Roscoe licked his lips. “Get me some roast beef, too.”
“Anything else, your majesty?” I asked, my tone descending into a deeper annoyance.
“Nah. That should make up fer what you did.”
“You might actually wake up bald tomorrow,” I muttered under my breath while walking out of the bedroom.
“Get some spicy sauce, too!”
Chapter 21
The Nor-Witch
Howling laughter erupted from the werewolves eating at the wooden tables outside the barbeque joint. When I was here with Austin, we’d stayed outside. The building was nothing much to look at—and there wasn’t even a name on signage out front.
The standing chalkboard to the entrance’s right displayed the menu in beautiful cursive, which kind of clashed with the rugged rural theme. If therewasa theme.
All the werewolves went quiet, turning to look at me in unison as I approached the entrance. This was also a common occurrence; being a half-turn, the attention was just part of daily life. It wasn’t terrible, but I still found it unsettling at times.
“Hey, new guy,” a smaller black werewolf called as I reached for the door handle. “Wanna sit with us?”
“I have some hungry guys back at home, sorry.” The werewolves here were different compared to the city. There was no underlying desperation, no belligerent drunk shouting, no creepy advances. They all had this calmness in their demeanor, happy and sober—for the most part, their tails wagging and ears up. “I’ll take you guys up on the offer next time though.”
“We will hold you to it,” said a larger, gray one sitting across from the black. “Bring the pack next time. They look like a fun bunch.”
“There’s definitely never a dull moment,” I said with a smile before stepping inside the warm restaurant. The atmosphere shifted instantaneously from a cozy hole-in-the-wall to something right out of a haunted house. Barbeque usually meant open, well-lit foyers and dining areas lined with wooden seats and western décor, but this was the opposite, leaning in hard on the whole ‘Halloween Town’ reputation. Upside-down cast iron pentagram candle holders lined the walls of the entryway. All the windows were covered with thick black drapes, and the walls were burgundy, with fake cobwebs along the corners. At least I assumed they were fake.
A woman greeted me as I walked through the foyer, the candlelight too dim to see her face clearly.
“I was wondering when you would wander into my web.” The low and seductive way she spoke gave her voice a cat-like purr. She wore a black gown so long it hid her shoes, and her upper body remained still as if she were floating across the floor toward me. The alabaster makeup was perfectly contoured, giving her slender cheeks more depth, and the whole ensemble popped with her ruby lipstick, long lashes and black eyeliner. The woman was stunning, with her long, straight hair as dark as a raven’s feathers. She had a confidence in her posture that made her seem much older than she probably was. “It’s nice to see you again, gorgeous.”
Even though she was a woman, the sensual timbre of her voice made me blush. “Have we met?”
“Briefly.” She traced the backs of her slender fingers along my cheeks before combing my thick sideburns with her nails. Her touch made me freeze. “I bought you a drink the other night.”
She leaned in and kissed me on the forehead, her lips feeling soft ice before she pulled away and glided back to the counter. The concept of personal space seemed almost offensive to her, like she owned everything and everyone that walked through the door.
“Sorry, I don’t remember. There were a lot of people trying to buy me drinks that night.” She must have been one of the women I thought was flirting with me. “I hope I didn’t seem rude.”
“You were direct,” she said with a sharp smile. “Your friend seemed rude to you though.”
“You picked up on that?” I asked, grabbing a plastic menu from a large, fake skull shaped like a bowl. “I had a bad night.”
“Well, let me make this evening more pleasurable,” she said, leaning over the counter, purposely letting her cleavage heave forward. “And by that, I mean the food is on the house. Half-turns always eat free when they come inside. So do new werewolves.”
“For real?”
“It’s my way of welcoming your pack to our town.” Her stare ravaged me the longer I stood there.
“You won’t get in trouble, will you?” I held up the menu and started reading, but she pulled it down and wagged her finger.
“I guess I’ll have to reprimand myself later. You’ll get the howler’s special feast, and when it’s done, I’ll have our driver deliver it.”
“Oh—okay.” I started backing toward the door.
