Chapter 24 #3
“I don’t want to look at this again,” I said, handing it back to her, but she held up her hands.
“Words can deceive, and memories fail.” The waiter placed two cocktails in clear glasses on the table before hurrying away. “But visions don’t use gentle words or white lies. They tell painful truths. If you really want to know if you can trust me, that mirror can do more than what mere words can.”
I narrowed my eyes before taking a sip of what tasted like sangria. “How do I know the visions are true?”
She shrugged. “I’ll let you come to that conclusion. In order to know for sure, you should experience what I did on the first night Darius and I were together, and the events that happened years after.”
I held up the mirror. “This can do that?”
“Honey, I’m a witch. If you think this is amazing, you should see what I have in my cellar.” She looked at the clock and back at me. “Which reminds me. I haven’t fed Darius yet. Why don’t you take that home, and we’ll meet again tomorrow?”
After slipping the mirror into my pocket, I slid out of the booth. Willa held up my drink.
“For the walk home,” she said, standing to meet my gaze.
“I meant what I said about Austin. You’re doing what instinct leads you to do.
It’s what any pack leader would do, and I’ve been around enough werewolves to understand this.
Have more trust in yourself, and trust in others will come naturally. ”
The smell of fried chicken lured me into the house as I took one final sip of the drink I’d been nursing. I thought I’d only been gone for an hour, but when I looked at my phone, I saw it was nearly noon. I was losing time again, often when I was hyper focused.
“Ooo, yer in for some good shit,” Roscoe called from the kitchen. “The colonel’s got nothin’ on these herbs and spices.”
As I walked in, Roscoe lowered another batch of chicken into the dutch oven with a huge container of peanut oil on the counter next to him. On the other side stood a beautiful chocolate cake with whipped buttercream icing and a couple candles in the shape of a twenty.
“You already made his cake?”
“Sure did. I sent those two out for some errands, and Adam didn’t put up much of a fight. Austin wasn’t too keen on it, though.”
“Well, that’s Austin for you.” A large, familiar fruit caught the corner of my eye. “How the hell did you manage to get a watermelon? It’s almost October!”
“Dude, they sell all kinds of out-of-season stuff at the farmer’s market. It’s all grown here, too.” Roscoe leaned against the counter as the chicken sizzled. “They say all the produce is magically delicious. I didn’t ask questions, and I wanted a couple watermelons.”
I looked back at the far counter again. “Where’s the other one?”
Roscoe cleared his throat and patted his stomach. “Well, I wanted to test to see if it was as good as they said.”
“I didn’t really know what to get Adam, so I just put five hundred dollars into a card.”
“Jeez, Cody. That’s a lot of money. You sure about that?”
“It’s his money. I’ve been telling him that I’m holding onto it for rent, but I’ve really been putting most of it away in a safe for him later so he won’t spend it.”
Roscoe rubbed my head. “Yer just so stinkin’ good. Ya know?”
“Tell that to Adam. He still thinks I’m trying to backstab him and take Austin away.”
“Those two are so confusing. One day they hate each other and the next they’re fine.”
I walked over to the refrigerator and opened the door, noting the two-gallon jugs full of purple liquid. “Apparently, we don’t know as much as we did. Is this Kool-aid?”
“Yeah. I ain’t had this shit since I was a kid… I think.”
“Roscoe, I don’t think Adam’s going to like having kiddie drinks at his birthday party.”
“Well, that’s why it’s half vodka.”
“Roscoe!”
“What? You said we were allowed to drink.”
“A little bit!” I opened the trash can lid, and sure enough there were two empty bottles of cheap vodka. “How did you even buy this? They aren’t allowed to sell to werewolves.”
“Adam got ’em yesterday.”
“That fake ID has sure been getting a lot of use.”
Roscoe removed the chicken and drained it in a wire basket over a paper towel, his stomach growling.
“Try to control yourself. We do want Adam to have some food left for his own party.”
“I ain’t gonna eat nothin’ yet.”
“I don’t trust anyone who eats an entire watermelon in one sitting.” It was then that something dawned on me, and all the blood from my face drained. “Oh my God.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Roscoe… what the fuck, man?” I ran to the fridge, grabbing both jugs of grape Kool-aid before placing them next to the watermelon. “Are you intentionally trying to piss him off? I’ve gotta pour this shit out.”
“What? No! That’s all the booze! And what the hell are you talkin’ about? When I was in Arkansas—”
“Do not finish that sentence, for the love of God. We need to get this shit out of here. The fried chicken is one thing—”
The front door slammed open, and Austin walked inside with a growl as Adam followed, berating him.
“It’s my birthday, and I don’t want to spend it in the goddamn hardware store!”
“Well, I didn’t wanna go to some stupid bar.”
Adam froze before sniffing the air. “Is that fried chicken?” His little tail began to wag. “And it’s southern style!” He ran into the kitchen with the biggest grin on his face.
I gave Roscoe an uneasy stare before looking back at Adam, trying to use my body to block the cluelessly racist items on the far counter.
“Look at the cake!” Adam glared at Austin. “See? Roscoe gets it.”
Austin walked behind the counter and picked up the watermelon. “Yup. He sure does. Where the hell did you get a watermelon in October?”
“Oh shit, is that grape Kool-aid?” Again, Adam’s little tail wagged as he picked up a jug.
“Uh—yeah,” Roscoe said, now fully understanding what he’d done. “It’s got half a bottle of vodka in it.”
“I don’t know how that’s gonna taste, but I’m down for getting shit-faced.”
Roscoe and I looked at one another again, this time a little more relieved, but that was short-lived as Adam took it all in and grew quieter.
“Oh! I’ve got your gift,” I said as his once gleeful expression turned to a wide-eyed anger. “This was all Roscoe’s fault! He’s a redneck. A very stupid one.”
“I didn’t think nothin’ of it. I just thought about what I’d like to eat on my birthday. And back in Arkansas—”
“See?” I interrupted. “He’s stupid. Very, very stupid.”
Adam let out a sigh and smiled. “Well, I mean… it’s the thought that counts, I guess. But this is the most racist shit I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“Well, just wait until you try my chicken.” Roscoe held up a drumstick in front of Adam’s face, but the half-turn glared at him. “You know you want to.”
Adam snatched the chicken away and took a huge bite. “You’re a fucking stupid hick.”
Roscoe grinned and leaned in, flashing his brows. “Well?”
The half-turn closed his eyes and let out the longest sigh. “It’s good. It’s the best fucking thing I’ve ever eaten in my life.”
“Happy birthday, ya little scamp.”
“Happy birthday, Adam,” I said, handing him the card.
The half-turn held the envelope up his nose. “I smell cash!” He kissed me on the cheek. “If this card has a watermelon on it, I’m going to punch you through the wall.”
“It does not.” I looked around for Austin, but he had slipped unnoticed out of the kitchen during the commotion. “Where’s Austin?”
“Probably hiding in his garage,” Adam said with more resentment. “He never remembers my birthday, and he never gets me anything.”
“Do you ever get him anything?” I asked.
Adam didn’t respond.
“You know, someone’s got to make the effort here. Do you even know when Austin’s birthday is?”
“Uh… April, I think? Maybe it’s May.”
“It’s August first,” the large werewolf said as he walked back into the kitchen holding a sloppily wrapped box before placing it on the counter. He leaned into Adam and grabbed both of his arms. “I’m not the easiest person to live with, and I’m sorry.”
Adam looked away for a moment, almost as if embarrassed. “I guess… I’m not that easy to live with either.”
The werewolf locked lips with Adam for a few seconds before pulling away and walking out toward the dining room. He looked back for a moment and disappeared into the garage.
After examining the box, Adam started to unwrap it. “This is the first gift he’s ever given me.” He opened it and let out a childlike laugh before pulling out a stuffed white bear wearing armor. “How the hell did he get this?”
“What is that?”
“It’s Pawlibear! He’s my favorite champion in—it’s one of my games.”
“I hope he don’t stay in there all day. We got grape Kool-Aid booze out here.”
The door to the garage slammed open and Austin peeked out, his ears perking all the way up. “Booze?”
“Only a little bit!” I shouted, blocking the way to the jugs as all three ganged up on me.
Roscoe snatched one of them and began pouring the liquid into plastic cups.
“I mean it!”
“Oh, lighten up, Cody,” Adam said. “It’s my birthday. Mosavi’s not going to know anything as long as no one’s stupid enough to walk around drunk downtown.” He shot a narrow stare at the both werewolves.
As they guzzled what was essentially vodka and sugar, a knock sounded at the door. I hadn’t expected anyone else since I kind of wanted to keep Adam’s party on the downlow. When I opened the door, my stomach dropped.
“I was instructed to bring a gift,” Mosavi growled out.
He was in human form wearing his usual suit, but above his shirt was a thick, spiked collar strapped uncomfortably tight.
He brushed me aside before stepping into the house.
The three in the kitchen scrambled to spit out the alcohol and hide the evidence.
He cocked one of his bushy brows before setting a small gift on the table, eyeing everyone with that piercing, accusatory gaze he often wore. It was so quiet that we could hear Roscoe’s stomach growling.
“Uh… hey yer majesty,” Roscoe said seriously with an awkward head bow. “Want some chicken?”