“And a smug sense of superiority. Don’t forget that.”
I stopped and glared at him, but he just smiled. Every so often he’d hit me with a reality check, and it kind of pissed me off.
Roscoe sniffed the air, his stomach rumbling audibly as the scent of smoked meat wafted on the breeze. Hell, even I was starting to get hungry.
“Ooo,” he said, making a sharp turn toward the origin like one of those cartoon characters smelling a pie on a windowsill.
“We don’t have the money.” I grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Come on. We need to get paint and groceries.”
Roscoe’s ears fell. “We should get to work on that OnlyStans idea.”
“That’syourproject, you know.”
“Yeah, but I needyerhelp, remember? I don’t know nothin’ about computers.” His face brightened for a second. “That reminds me. I was talkin’ to Austin about our little idea—”
“Roscoe, I swear to God!”
“I was gonna talk to you first before agreeing to anything.”
“If you want a three-way, talk to Adam. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy.”
Roscoe folded his arms. “Maybe I will. Yer holier-than-thou-ness.”
“Whatever.” I knew why this pissed me off, but even that annoyed me. I wanted it to be just me and him.
“I know that look.” He gave me a shake, and I shrugged him off. “Yer mad at me again.”
“Yo!” a male voice shouted. Roscoe and I turned to see a fit guy in jogging pants running toward us. He was human, but had different symbols tattooed on both arms, like some kind of Sanskrit surrounded by pentagrams. “New guys!”
“What’s up?” Roscoe said, extending his hand. The man eagerly grabbed it and shook. “Just moved here. The name’s Roscoe. This here’s Cody.”
He turned and grabbed my hand, shaking it more vigorously than he had Roscoe’s.
“I’m Sean.” He paused, the smile on his face widening. “Damn! We don’t see many half-turns. You’re the third one.”
“Fourth,” I corrected. “There’s another one back home.”
His expression became even more ecstatic, which startled me. Human reactions to seeing me were never this pleasant back in the city. Hell, even in White Dunes, people often kept their distance while walking by me on the beach.
“How many werewolves you got living here?” Roscoe asked, turning to look at a group of rowdy wolf-men scarfing down what looked like ribs on picnic tables outside a run-down barbeque restaurant.
“With you, that makes two hundred and forty-three.” He turned toward me again. “What made you guys decide on Norwich?”
“Desperation,” I muttered, catching myself as Roscoe shoved my arm. “And it seemed like a neat place.”
“You guys are gonna love it here. Have you talked to the mayor for your orientation yet?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why would we need to talk to the mayor?”
“I’d keep checking your mail if I were you because it’s the law. Any non-human who moves to this town needs to know the rules.”
Roscoe seemed more taken aback than I was. “Rules? I thought this place was cool.”
“Trust me, Norwich is fucking awesome, but there’s some really sketchy shit that goes on in the woods.” Sean looked around before lowering his voice. “Between us, you guys should check out the mayor’s wife, because holy shit.”
“She a looker?”
I shoved Roscoe hard.
