On the Menu (Spice-tember #11)

Chapter One Hunt

“Liam! Liam Icarus, you slick, sexy thing. Where the hell are you?” Stray scraped his long mane of choppy black and gray waves back into a sleek ponytail and checked out the perfectly angular line of his strong jaw. You had to look presentable when you were hunting.

“Where am I? I’m babysitting for my friends, Chloe and Jared. They’re at the Halloween Ball up at White Pines. The better question is, where are you?” Liam’s lazy voice was suddenly alert. “Are you nearby?”

“I’m in your stomping grounds, the old roadhouse. Jax Alley. You told me it was your favorite place to bag dinner.”

“So help me, Stray, if you ‘bag’ anything in Pine Ridge, you’ll be dead by dawn, and I’ll help.”

Stray looked at the cell phone he’d stolen from one of his recent meals, a slouchy city-thing with too much eyeliner and ripped black-on-black attire.

“Did you say ‘babysitting’?”

“I did, and don’t change the subject. I’m here with a newborn for mommy and big daddy’s first night out after the baby bean arrived. If you make me call them back from their date so I can kick your pale, smoky ass, I will curse your cock off. And if I keep talking, I’ll wake the baby.”

Stray stared at the phone in puzzlement. “I know you’re still feeding, Liam, or you’d be dead.”

“I’m feeding with consent, and by the way, if you do that, you’ll get more.

I’m hoping I’ll find my forever person somewhere in this town, Stray.

The last incubus who had to ‘leave town’ tried it on with the minotaur’s girlfriend.

I think he had to move out of the country.

Be smart. Don’t end up with a hoof in your backside. ”

“How the hell do you even play that game? Seduction to the point where they believe you’re some shiny good boy with a proper soul? I don’t have the patience.”

“Then get back to your own realm before I reeducate you. I’m calling the bartender and telling him to keep an eye on you, Stray.

You don’t need to pick up anyone tonight, you understand?

There’s enough rampant sexual energy flowing through the town tonight that all you need to do is stand still and inhale. Trust me.”

Stray blinked again and considered the wisdom of inhaling in a sleazy roadhouse restroom.

He opted out of that and moved back to the hallway that led to the main bar on the top floor, or he could take the stairs and explore the basement, where billiards and air hockey tables beckoned.

With a sudden deep sniff, he felt the teeming sensual energy flooding him, feeding him, so strong and fast that it made him dizzy.

“What the hell?” he murmured, almost reverently. “Even the clubs in the cities aren’t like this. Even the sex clubs.”

“That’s because that’s lust, idiot. This place has powerful positive energy, and couples find each other left, right, and upside down.

It’s a literal love buffet. I won’t even need to go out and find myself a date for tonight.

I’m just going to walk around Chloe and Jared’s house and inhale all the true love these two leave in their wake. ”

“Ew. Surely you remember that sex is the fun part of feeding, Liam. You’ve gone too soft. Far, far too soft.”

“Listen, you little interloper. Love and passion fill you up and keep you fed. If you find the right one, you’ll never need to feed from anyone else, and you’ll never need more than what she gives.” Liam suddenly sounded wistful. “It’s worth staying on the right side of the tracks for, Stray.”

He wasn’t sure about that, but Liam had always been scary when he was upset. It made him the best hunting partner, charming and affable, almost lazily seductive with the ladies (or the gents, whatever was handy), but able to turn deadly violent if others were on their turf.

Pine Ridge was Liam’s turf, and he supposed if he couldn’t lure him back to his bad old ways, he would have to play by Liam’s rules.

Well, at least the scents of souls in love were delectable, just Liam said.

Stray walked towards the basement, because basements were usually the best places to find dark corners and unattended beauties, and stopped dead on the stairs.

It was... It was like ambrosia. Pure nectar, and honey, and roast turkey, and every single food he remembered from long, long ago when he was human, with a human’s heart and taste buds.

“Where is that coming from?” Stray hissed, then took the stairs two at a time until he reached the bottom.

There was a crowd of humans dancing, drinking, and shooting pool. Laughing, falling over each other in their costumes, drunkenly embracing.

Except for her.

The girl in the black cat unitard with whiskers painted on her cheeks and furry black cat ears on her head. Even the fake ears seemed to droop in misery, and the sweet, forgotten, forbidden delicious taste spoiled and rotted as he got close.

He followed the girl’s gaze, quickly ascertaining that this wasn’t a girl, but a woman, maybe in her mid-thirties, but with a trim figure and a childlike sadness in her eyes—at least when they were gazing at the burly, bearded “devil” flirting with a Bavarian barmaid.

“You with him?” Stray asked.

The woman startled and sloshed whatever was in her glass over her hand.

Her surprise was sweet, like spring and... what was it? Raspberry ice! Raspberry ices, yes, those sweet, cold things that melted slowly on his tongue.

Now, he could only imagine her surprise turning to pleasure, and the way she would coat his tongue, like a forbidden raspberry ice memory of spring and sex mixed together.

“M-me? With him? Do I kn-know you?” The woman answered, voice shaking with the effort of keeping her tears in check, trying to dry her hand on her skin-tight black suit.

“You’re about to,” Stray grinned his most charming smile.

He took her drink and used the hem of his shirt to dry her hand, smelling that tingly, sweet, surprised scent again.

With his voice low and tantalizing, he murmured, “You can’t be with him.

Because that,” he gestured with the drink, “that is a big fat bastard that’s all over another girl, and you’re here alone, staring at him with your heart in your eyes.

If he were deserving of you, he’d be over here, staring at you, telling me to fuck off. ”

“I... We’ve gone out a few times. He asked me to come with him and... I got a new outfit, and I... I’m sorry, I’m just gonna go.”

“Then I’m gonna go with you.” Stray followed her as she turned suddenly.

“I have mace!” she squeaked.

“Smart thing to have. You won’t need it.

I’ll just make sure you get to your car okay.

I’m a... gentleman is the wrong word. And I’m not a nice guy, either.

I suppose I’m a safe guy, and I’m a guy who’d rather you look at me than cry over that louse.

Can I buy you...” What did humans eat in places like this?

He always stuck to drinks, but drinks were also meant to intoxicate and disable, and this woman was too guarded for that.

The bitter, acrid smell of sadness was starting to come back and ruin his mood—and his meal. “Burger! Can I buy you some burgers?”

The woman looked down at her skintight suit, and her lower lip quivered. “Do I look so skinny? That I need fattening up?”

“No? God, you look perfect!” Stray smiled, and he had to admit that to him—she did.

Long and leggy, and somewhat pale. Warm brown hair and vibrant blue-green eyes, and a softness about her face that spread to her body without making it voluptuous.

“Bruce says I’m too thin.”

“Bruce is a butthole,” he said confidently, hoping that was actually the term he thought it was, and the woman laughed.

Oh, heaven and all the gates, it was like pure sugar in his mouth, and then something sweet and salty and rich... Jam. Jam and cream and pie, and savory crust. Her laughter was the best treat, and the sudden notes of happiness? It made raspberry ice a pauper’s dream.

“I wanted to buy you two burgers,” he said with only a little less than his usual smoothness, “because I hoped I could eat one of them with you. Or, if you’re hungry, then you’ll eat both, but I’ll get to talk to you for twice as long.

Hm? How about it?” He arched one eyebrow and smiled, wondering if she’d notice the fangs, and if she did, would she assume they were simply part of his Halloween disguise?

“Okay, then. I’m Cara.” She stuck out her hand and smiled.

“Stray. It’s uh—It’s short for a family name. Strathvyn.”

“That’s beautiful. German?”

“Gaelic. A long, long time ago,” he whispered, and led her to the tables that ran along the walls of the bar proper.

“Bruce hasn’t even noticed I’m gone,” Cara mourned, casting one last look toward the basement and the uncouth bearded human left behind.

“Damn.” Stray sniffed and walked towards the bar to get them drinks, wondering why he suddenly cared what this single little soul tasted like. Food was food.

But Liam’s words tickled his brain, and Cara’s scent tickled his memory.

Maybe... Maybe he’d try it Liam’s way. And if he was trying it Liam’s way, he’d want it to be worth the effort. Cara had to be the happiest she could be before he ever took a sip.

“You’re miserable, aren’t you?” Stray said, setting two glasses on the table, along with two sticky menus covered in a film of stains.

“Don’t pretend to care. I know how this goes.

I’m thirty-six, out alone on a night dedicated to sex and scaring the pants off people.

I just got passed over in favor of Bavarian Barbie downstairs, and you think you can swoop in and get me when I’m vulnerable.

Nope.” Cara tossed back half her drink in one gulp.

Stray wanted to say that if she kept knocking them back like that, he probably could manage it pretty easily. “I was stating a fact, not caring.” This wasn’t going well.

“Since when do facts have questions on them?”

“Since I was raised in Glasgow. Ever talk to anyone from my part of the world? We have two settings—blunt and kick you in your teeth, or statements with questions as a bonus.”