Chapter 8 #2
Aswan reached into the smoker and pulled out a smaller platter.
He handed it to his son. “Here are the hot dogs for you and your brother and sister. Take them inside, plate them—the buns are in the bread drawer—and give everyone a serving of fruit. There are some cut-up apples in the fridge. Do not make your mother feed you tonight, she’s got enough to juggle. ”
Ben nodded seriously and turned toward the house. In an effort to make up for my earlier glib comment that might have been hurtful, I hurried to hold the door for him.
“Thanks, Abydos,” he said with a grin as he passed through. “Enjoy your meaty juices.”
When the door slammed behind him, I slumped in relief, and my brother began to chuckle.
“It’s a shame to rush bkarn, but I’ll pack leftovers for you. Thanks for enduring the chaos with us. I thought tonight might be a good time to introduce you to Eastshore.”
Cautiously, I edged back toward the table, where he’d begun to saw off large pieces of dripping meat and push them toward me. “Why?”
He glanced up briefly, his expression hidden when he bent back over his task. “Because the whole town goes all out for Halloween, but it’ll be dark.”
Ah. “And no one will be able to see my scars and run off screaming?” I remembered what I’d learned about the holiday in the past years. “Or they’ll think I’m wearing a terrifying Halloween mask?”
“No, you ass.” My brother handed me a plate, exasperation in his eyes. “Because you’ll blend in with the rest of us. Eat up.”
Blend in with the rest of us.
Because Eastshore was now filled with orcs. My brothers. Males I knew and trusted, males who’d chosen this place as their home. Males who had found happiness and Mates and peace here.
This place wasn’t like other human towns, was it? It wasn’t even like Bramblewood, our sanctuary from the humans. Because Eastshore did have humans…and they’d accepted orcs. They didn’t think we were evil or to be feared, did they?
Not all of us are like that.
Riven had said that.
My little human had been opening my mind since the moment I’d met her, but I hadn’t realized it.
Was she the reason I was here tonight with Aswan’s family, tentatively willing to immerse myself in Eastshore?
I remembered her pride as she gave me that tour the other night—the tour which had promptly been overshadowed by the storm and that kiss.
That kiss…and more.
Was that why I was here?
Thoughtfully, I bit into the bkarn, and didn’t bother hiding my groan of satisfaction.
Riven was a brilliant chef, but my brother still made the best traditional recipes. And since he was using the meat as a bribe to get me surrounded by Eastshore tonight, then I might as well enjoy it.
Abydos
I suspected I needed to learn to stop being surprised by Eastshore, but I couldn’t help it.
In the ten years I’d spent living near Bramblewood Bluff, I’d become used to small-town life with different species living together. But there were only a handful of humans there, and plenty of hulking orc males.
Eastshore was the opposite. And yet…
Everyone moved fluidly. Everyone greeted each other, everyone was friendly and accepting. Maybe it was just because it was a holiday?
I have to admit, Halloween in Eastshore was fucking cozy.
Each shop along Main Street was decorated. Some had fake spider webs and electronic ghosts that wriggled as you passed by and played spooky music. Some had scarecrows and corn husks tied together. There were a lot more orange and purple string lights than I’d ever remembered seeing in one place…
And everywhere, there were children.
Shrieking children, laughing children, children hyped up on too much sugar and losing their ever-loving minds as they ran from one store to the next.
Oh, because each of these shops? Not only were they decorated, but the proprietors were giving out candy.
Some, like the bakery, invited everyone inside to get their candy—Cairo’s Mate was also offering spiked cider and hot chocolate for sale.
Others, like the jewelry store, had very carefully set up their booth in the doorway, to prevent children from rushing inside.
“Look, Mom!” Ben called, screeching to a halt in front of us as we strolled down the sidewalk. “Full-sized candy bars! Score!”
“Mrs. Albee set up her trunk to look like it’s underwater!” Tova cried, grabbing her mother’s arm and tugging. “Come on, you gotta see it!”
Oh yeah, that was another thing; it wasn’t just the shops that were decorated.
All up and down Main Street, residents had parked their cars and popped their trunks, and decorated the hell out of them.
They stood beside—or in—their creations and handed out more candy.
I saw one that looked like a mummy’s tomb, one that was clearly a kids’ movie I didn’t understand with a bunch of little yellow round creatures wearing overalls, and several that looked like fairy tale forests.
This was…odd.
This was a tradition that humans had created? Or was it just Eastshore? As far as I could see, few of the shops—and none of the humans in cars—were getting anything from their generosity. They’d purchased candy, some of it expensive, and were handing it out for free.
Just because?
It makes the kitlings happy.
Yes, there was that. I glanced around in bemusement.
But it made the adults happy too. As I watched, Aswan unwrapped a piece of chocolate and popped it in his mouth.
The scent reminded me of how I’d fed Riven chocolate-covered almonds last week when she was miserable, and how the taste had made her moan.
Of course, that thought reminded me of the other ways I’d made her moan, and how she’d been avoiding me, and my Kteer rumbled in my chest.
“Be careful!” Hannah called as Tova pulled away from her and hurtled toward one of the parked cars. “Oh goodness,” she groaned. “It’s always so nerve-wracking, to have them going in different directions.”
“Don’t worry, dkaar.” Aswan slid his free arm around her waist. “I can keep track of them both in the chaos.”
“I know you can.” She sighed and tipped her head against his shoulder. “Thank you.”
My twin looked like he might have said something—something sickeningly sweet, knowing him—had Joshy not smacked him on top of the head from his perch on Aswan’s shoulders.
“Mo’ tocolate! Now!” the toddler bellowed, pointing toward the next shop, which happened to be Giza’s tattoo parlor.
Chuckling, his father steered them in that direction.
And me? I trailed behind in a thoughtful sort of daze.
Here I was, surrounded by scores of humans. Although most of them were polite enough not to run into us, a few had brushed against me in the crowd, and all of them had smiled and excused themselves.
Maybe it was rude of me not to respond, but mostly I found myself staring at them, at all of them.
Yeah, the sun had set a long time ago, but there was enough light that they couldn’t help but see me, see my ruined features.
None of them had recoiled, none of them had pointed or even stared.
Was it because they were unused to orcs, and didn’t know that I was an oddity?
Or was it because they knew and just didn’t care?
The humans of Eastshore Isle were unique.
Are they? Riven tried to tell you that there were plenty of humans different from the ones who ruined your life.
I thought she was unique.
She was unique. But…maybe all these humans were special too?
Or maybe they were normal, and the assholes who had tried to kill me were the different ones. Maybe Riven was right, and not all humans are like that.
I frowned at the thought, my shoulders hunched and my hands in my pockets, as Giza greeted us.
“It’s good to see you, T’mak!” The older male was the only one who’d ever called me Little Brother. “Have you come to admire my pumpkins?”
Since Giza was smirking, I nodded solemnly. “You have very fine pumpkins, D’kap,” I deadpanned, having no idea what he was talking about.
He clutched his chest dramatically—although maybe it was because of the honorific I’d used. “A joke! Abydos made a joke! The world will surely end!”
That was when the crowd in front of his store parted, and I saw that, indeed, there were three tremendous pumpkins sitting in a line on the pavement. One had a big sign beside a pad of paper and a glass jar, announcing that whoever came closest to guessing the weight would win a prize.
Another was painted with the words Try to Lift Me, and my younger brother Simbel was cheering on his teenaged son—what was his name? Oh, yes, Trick—as the kitling tried to lift it. Who would have thought that Simbel, a fun-loving, easygoing male, would make such a good father?
The third pumpkin had been hollowed out, and Joshy was chortling happily as he jumped up and down inside of it, his mother snapping photos on her phone.
The scene was… I glanced around. Cozy, yeah. Fun. I felt like an island in the middle of chaos—an outside observer—as Giza moved away to take his young baby from his Mate, and I shook my head in disbelief.
These males were my brothers, my friends. They’d found their place here in Eastshore, among these humans. They’d found peace.
And a part of me—not my Kteer, but my heart—wondered if such a miracle would be possible for me as well. I didn’t need a Mate, I didn’t need a place…
Did I?
“It’s good to see you, Abydos.”
I whirled to find a smiling Sakkara leading his Mate and young Emmy toward us.
I nodded cautiously, not sure yet how I felt around this male.
He’d been the one to lead us during that disastrous first year, and he’d clearly found his role again as the chief—mayor of this town.
He’d brought us all here, gathering us together…
And as someone used to leadership, I could tell he was angling for something from me.
“Have you met my Mate, Nikki? And this is Emmy.”
I nodded politely to both of them. Emmy had been fathered by one of the orcs who’d come through hells with us.
Dahshur and his Mate had died when their kitling had been young, and Sakkara had stepped in to raise her.
But I’d been gone by then, hiding in the mountains, focused on my drive for vengeance against the humans, and I’d never known her.
“Hello,” I managed, fascinated despite myself by the combination of orc and human features on the little girl. She was about Tova’s age, and that reminded me of what Aswan’s daughter had said earlier. “You are a pink unicorn?”
Emmy smiled brightly at me, and nodded, but said nothing as she pulled Nikki toward the large pumpkin.
To my surprise, Sakkara settled at my side, hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed the chaos. Proprietarily. It was how I felt when I was at one of my Vengeance holdings, but here I felt…out of place.
“It is good to see you,” the other male murmured, low enough that only I could hear him. “I was beginning to fear you’d lock yourself away here, the same way you’ve done in the past.”
I bristled and refused to look at him. “I’m busy.”
“Yes, you are. I hope you’re busy for the right reasons.”
Was I? I remembered the protestors at the mine, their accusations.
Raping the land.
Fuck me. I took a deep breath, held it. Changed the subject. “Eastshore is…pleasant.”
“Yes, it is. And welcoming to everyone, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.” He turned to face me, his body language suddenly more formal. “And on that note, I have a favor to ask. Could we schedule a time to discuss the orcs living in Colorado, D’kap?”
The use of the honorific slapped me hard, and I reared back, unable to hide my surprise. I wasn’t D’kap. That was for older, respected males. I’d been called boss and sir and mister over the years, but those were human words.
This?
From our chief?
“Yeah, but I’m not D’kap,” I growled. “Don’t defer to me, I’m no one special.”
Sakkara’s brow twitched, and although his expression remained neutral, I got a sense of approval from him. “You’re not? You’re wealthier than all of us put together.”
Fuck me again. Scowling, I turned back to the scene in front of me. Aswan was pretending to drop Joshy—apparently this is hilarious to a three-year-old—while Nikki and Hannah helped both Emmy and Tova into the hollowed-out pumpkin.
I did have more money than my brothers. I’d set out to make more money than my brothers, than the asshole humans who had mocked me and beaten me. Who’d tried to kill me, tried to kill my guys, tried to ruin me.
My tongue flicked out against my tusk, the jolt of pain grounding me, and I winced.
I’d set out to prove myself to the humans, but I didn’t need to prove myself to my brothers.
“Money doesn’t make me special,” I mumbled. Not here.
Not in Eastshore.
In Eastshore, orcs lived alongside humans. They—we weren’t hidden, weren’t reviled. Weren’t scorned and protested and sabotaged. Orcs had found peace here.
I wanted that.
I watched Hannah lean against Aswan, I watched Giza’s Mate bend to kiss her kitling in Giza’s arms. I watched Simbel—gods below, he’d always been a fuck-up and now look at him!—proudly throw his arm around his son’s shoulders.
And I realized I wanted all of that.
I’d thought peace would be enough.
But seeing my brothers with their Mates and families, feeling the way my Kteer purred in satisfaction…was it possible I did want something like this?
Not just peace, but…a Mate? A family? Someplace to belong…