“Okay, so I have an order of Grilled Dragonturtle, Deep Fried Moon Falcon and Basted Cave Grouse. And for dessert, an order of Bear Bug Ice Cream, Fire Honey & Thyme Pastry, and Dragon Molten Cake. Anything else?”
“Nothing for now, but would you bring us two, large plates because we’re going to share,” said Slate.
“Not a problem.”
Glancing at their waiter as he left their table, he looked at Slate. “I’m stumped. I know he’s a wolf shifter but can’t figure out what. Do you know?”
“Yeah, he’s an Italian wolf shifter.”
“Holy shit balls! That explains his appearance.”
“Yes, they do tend to be slim.”
“This place is amazing. I’ve never seen so many different shifters in one place.”
“This pub was built when humans in Scotland knew about shifters and everyone coexisted peacefully. Then some of them decided to target them as a means of seizing their land and businesses. They riled up the population by lying about us saying we were the devil’s army, set upon earth to destroy mankind.”
“That’s bullshit!” exclaimed Dakota.
“Of course it is, but when humans are unhappy, they want to blame someone for it. Most of them bought into it out of greed, so we were forced to hide our identities and survive as best we could by concealing who we were. There still are some humans who know about us but, for the most part, they say nothing.”
“Was this pub owned by a human who knew about us? Is that why it survived?” asked Dakota.
“In a way. It was founded by a Scottish Wolf shifter whose Fated Mate was a human woman. When her mate had to go into hiding, she took over the pub. When the persecutors claimed the pub was owned by a shifter, she produced proof she was the human owner of it, so she and the pub escaped the takeover of anything owned by a shifter. That makes this pub very rare as it survived the purge. After shifters went into hiding, the owner asked a witch to put a spell on the sign so shifters would know they’d be welcomed.”
“Who owns the pub today?”
“Descendants of the original owners.”
“That’s wild. So humans have no idea this is a shifter pub.”
“None, whatsoever.”
“Aren’t they curious about the food served here? I mean, you won’t find Grilled Dragonturtle on the menu in human restaurants.”
“I think they sense something isn’t normal, but they don’t ask questions…too many big, muscled men in here with unfriendly looks. Usually, most humans ignore what their instincts are trying to tell them.”
“Is human instinct similar to our wolf’s instinct?”
“Yup. Legend has it everyone was a shifter in the beginning but a group of them decided their animal forms were inferior so they rejected them and eventually their animal forms died. What remained is what’s now called human…but their animal instinct survived, warning them of danger…or even if someone isn’t telling the truth. But, most humans ignore their instinct, using emotion and logic to make decisions,” Slate said, looking around the pub. “For some reason, though, humans still follow their instincts and stay away from this place at night.”
“I wish we had more time in Edinburgh,” Dakota mused. “I would love to come back here again.”
“Hey, when is everyone planning on coming home?” asked Slate.
“Colton, Ian and his parents are staying at least another five weeks, but the rest are returning at the end of next week because Lizzie has to go home to her husband. This is the first time she’s had a real vacation; when she traveled before it was always because of her husband’s Council work.”
“After Fionn is safe with Cody and Dylon, why don’t we come back here and stay till the end of next week, and we can all return together,” proposed Slate.
“I don’t know, it depends on whether Steel will cover for me.”
“Let me talk to him…he owes me a lot of favors.”
“Uh-huh, so when are you planning to call your mother?” smiled Dakota.
“Saved by the arrival of our dinner,” Slate smirked as the waiter wheeled over a cart laden with covered platters. He sat back and watched him place the entrées on the table along with their plates, a new basket of Unicorn Bread, more jam and fresh drinks for both of them. “Thanks. This looks great,” Slate said to their waiter.
“May I get you anything else?”
