Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
I’m halfway through my meal when I start feeling a bit… funny.
We’re in the private dining room of a community restaurant, one that’s apparently a regular haunt for the team.
The food is definitely good, and this private room means we can talk freely without fear of being overheard by other humans.
We also get a special menu—I can tell, because I’m sure the public menu doesn’t have blood-garnished dishes on it.
Humans don’t go in for that like vampires do.
There were some curious and odd looks when I entered the restaurant with the rest of them, and our server did a double take when he first saw me. I guess if I join the team, that’s something that’s going to happen for a while.
Anyway, as my head spins a little, I drop out of the conversation. I didn’t eat breakfast this morning, so I probably have low blood sugar. Best to get some more food in me as quickly as possible.
I listen to the others, letting their words ebb and flow around me.
They’re a fun bunch. Alistair and a few others on my current team have this same joke-y banter-y vibe, and the rest of my team balances that, but it’s a bigger unit with more turnover, so it’s not quite as tight-knit as what I’m seeing here.
It could be good to be part of a small, close team.
We’ve talked a bit about their process for work, too, and I think I could fit in well with it. Plus, I do feel like it’s kind of fitting that a human should be part of the team helping to protect the community from other humans.
Fit in. Fitting.
My high school English teachers would have been appalled if they’d heard me use fit in and fitting so close together.
Although… fit in and fitting are close together. It’s fitting that they fit in the same thought.
I giggle.
Conversation falters.
“Sam?” David looks at me. “Are you okay?”
I nod enthusiastically, then look down at my plate. My food is nearly all gone. “There are only two bites left!” I announce, then giggle again.
This time I can’t stop.
“What’s wrong with him?” Andrew asks as Lily gets up and comes around the table. I wave a hand dismissively.
“Ow!” David jerks away, rubbing his eye where I’ve just smacked him.
“So sorry!” I sing. “Is this room getting smaller? Is this like some kind of weird take on Alice in Wonderland ? I ate the food and now the room shrinks and everyone gets super close?” I drop my voice to a whisper and lean in. “I like you guys, but I don’t think I want to get that close to you.”
Elinor leans over and studies the remnants of my meal. “Sam, what did you order?”
I wave my hand again, and she pulls back sharply. “It was delicious! Do you think they have more? Or should I hold out for dessert? Are the desserts here good? I loooooooove sweets! I could just bathe in chocolate caramel sauce!”
“Fuck me,” Andrew breathes, a delighted grin breaking across his face. “He’s drunk!”
I stop my search for a menu so I can check out the desserts and think about that. I don’t drink much normally, but I have been drunk a few times in my life. I think back to how it felt and then compare it to how I feel now.
Yep. I’m utterly trashed.
But… how? I’ve only had water.
“Did you order the spicy stew or the regular one?” Elinor demands, studying a menu that she’s made appear magically. Where did it come from?
“I didn’t know shifters had teleportation abilities,” I tell her, awed. “I thought it was only demons, and they can only teleport things they’re touching.”
“We don’t,” she says dryly. “It is only demons. Focus, Sam. Which stew did you order?”
“Spicy, because I love spicy food. One time, Jim who’s on my team brought me this meat that was sooooooo good. He said the seasoning was a secret demon recipe and I’d have to marry a demon to find out what it was.”
“You can buy demon spice mix from any community grocer,” David says, sounding like he’s trying not to laugh. I wonder what’s funny? “I’ll give you a link to an online store that has it, too.”
I gasp. “He lied to me? Why? Why would he lie to me?” I fumble in my pocket for my phone. “I’m going to call him right now and find out why he would lie about this, why he would destroy my hopes and dreams!”
“Your hopes and dreams of eating spicy food?” Lily asks dryly. “I think you should give me that.” She plucks the phone from my hand.
I pout. “But, Lily, I need to know why he would lie to me.”
“Maybe he wanted to marry you,” Andrew suggests. “He was hoping you would fall in love with him because of his spice mix.” He frowns. “That sounds like it should be dirty, but it isn’t.”
I consider that for a moment, then shake my head. “No, he’s married already. And straight.” I flop back dramatically in my chair, then have to grab the table to keep it from falling backward. “I can’t believe he lied !”
“The spicy stew is simmered in shifter brew, isn’t it?” a new voice asks.
A deep voice.
Rough.
Gravelly.
It sends metaphorical shivers down my spine.
I turn slowly toward Gideon, who’s come to stand beside Elinor and scowl at the menu.
“You can speak!”
Everyone looks at me.
It’s one of those moments of complete dumbstruck silence, all attention on me, that would normally freak me the fuck out and have my anxiety rearing its ugly head.
Fortunately, drunk me doesn’t give a shit, and I just widen my eyes.
“He can speak! You all heard him, right? Or am I having an auditory hallucination?”
Andrew blinks. “How can you be drunk and still be able to say ‘auditory hallucination’?” he demands.
“Hush,” Lily tells him. “Sam, why would you think Gideon couldn’t speak?”
I lean forward and beckon for her to do the same.
She does.
So does everyone else. Even Gideon.
“Because. He. Hasn’t .” I sit back triumphantly. Then frown. “Did he say my stew was simmered in shifter brew?”
I’ve abstained from shifter brew ever since the first time I tried it and a few sips left me feeling tipsy.
Shifter metabolism is higher than human, so brew hits humans harder—or so Alistair explained to me afterward.
That’s why brew even exists—shifters wanted alcohol that they could actually get drunk on without having to down ridiculous amounts in a short space of time.
Since I don’t drink much normally anyway, I never saw the point in drinking something that would get me wasted faster.
I still don’t.
But if the dish I ordered is simmered in brew…
Yeah. That would explain it. Alistair and I once calculated shifter-to-human metabolism ratios (what?
He was drunk, and I was bored. The internet was down), and the way I remember it, they metabolize about twelve times faster than humans (which is why they eat so damn much and often).
Even other members of the community metabolize about five to seven times faster than humans.
We’re basically the slowpokes of the physical plane.
So if they cooked my stew with maybe half a glass of brew, I’ve basically just had the equivalent of a whole bottle of wine.
And before you start humansplaining the effect of the cooking process on alcohol, let me just tell you that brew doesn’t work the same way. The alcohol content is infused by way of sorcery.
“I’m fucked,” I announce.
Elinor laughs so hard I worry she’s going to hurt herself.
“This was not our intention in taking you out for lunch,” David assures me. “Maybe we’d better get some coffee in here. And more food. Something carby to soak up the brew.” He picks up a roll from the breadbasket. “Eat some of this.”
I take it and put it on the table. “I’d rather have cake.
Is there cake? I like cake. Also, dude, you sound kind of panicky.
Why are you panicky? It’s just a little drunk.
It’ll go away.” I frown. “Not looking forward to the hangover, though. Hey!” I beam up at him.
“You do sorcery, right? Can’t you just—” I fling out my arms and wiggle my fingers.
Everyone stares at me.
Maybe they don’t get it.
I try explaining. “Can’t you just sorcerize my drunk away?”
“Oh, fuck me,” Gideon mutters.
I wink at him, but my eyes don’t seem to be working properly, so it ends up being a blink. I quickly turn it into a triple blink so it doesn’t look stupid. I’m just batting my eyes at him. I’m so good at thinking on my feet. “Just say when, cutie,” I purr.
Gideon takes a big step back, a startled look on his face. Elinor pulls out her phone. “Could you do that again?” she asks in a choked voice. “I think Alistair will want to see it.”
“No video,” David insists. “Uh, Sam, my sorcery doesn’t work that way. I wouldn’t want to permanently fuck up your metabolism or anything, so you’re just going to have to deal with the hangover. Sorry.”
I pout. “Boo. Is there at least cake?”
“This is gold. It’s better than gold.” Andrew’s grinning so broadly, his fangs are on clear display. I tilt my head, staring. I’ve never looked so closely at a vampire’s fangs before. I’m not that close to any of the vampires on my team, so it seemed rude to look.
The room seems to slide, and I realize that instead of tilting my head, I tilted my whole body, and now I’m falling off the chair.
“Whoops!” I crash to the floor, where I lie blinking, then scowl up at the faces looking down at me. “Why didn’t any of you catch me?”
“We’re sorry,” Andrew declares, offering me a hand. “Here, you sit back in the chair, and I’ll go get you some cake. And do you want company being drunk? It’s no fun being the only drunk person in a room that has David in it.”
“Be nice to my friend David,” I tell him solemnly. “His sorcery doesn’t work.”
“What?” David asks while Elinor appears to choke.