Jacob leaned in close to where I was still under Tyson’s arm. “You’re drooling.”
I didn’t blink or remove my eyes from the scene in front of us, but I did lift my hand and wipe at my chin. Jacob was right, there had been a little drool.
But for reals … it was a street of food.
I mean the entire length, which was probably about a mile, was filled, both sides, with eateries. Each one seemed to represent different international foods. From my position I could see Chinese, Thai, Indian, and Turkish, and I was sure many more cultures filled the shop fronts.
We started to move again, and if it wasn’t for Tyson’s arm I’d probably have been running. Scents were hitting me hard from all directions, and actually … not all of them were pleasant. As we moved further through I understood the stench. Scattered amid the regular eateries were quite a few specialty cafes. The first I saw was a raw seafood center filled with the water loving demi-fey. Down the alley, beside the café, was a stream occupied by chattering mer-supes.
Nearby, another eatery advertised – in big letters and with disgusting graphics – that they catered to carnivores of the raw meat variety. Ogres, gargoyles and trolls looked to be the large – and I do mean large – majority of their clientele.
The grays halted just past the meatery. The taller of the two said, “You’ll need no money here. Simply choose your taste for each meal and order. In return we expect you to help. There is a roster rotation and you will be advised of your shifts.”
We nodded and they left us there. Quale stayed with us.
This was different than the way Stratford worked. Sure, everyone pitched in to run our town, but we also had jobs that we applied for after school. Some of them were limited, and you might miss out, but mostly we chose the career we were to have.
I hadn’t had to work yet because I was still in college. And the quads, well, they didn’t have to worry for a long time about menial labor, since they were to be the next leaders.
The boys took the news of their impending dish-pig duties like real men, not a single whine, moan, or bitch to be heard.
Quale patted Jacob on the arm, before snatching his hand back at the look on the fey’s face.
“Don’t worry on it too much,” he said, covering his nerves with words. “I will make sure you don’t receive any of the particularly distasteful tasks. With so many supernaturals here, it takes quite a while to rotate around duties.”
Great. Awesome. All fantastic news.
But let’s bring the focus back, Mr. Gray Fey – food me now.
“Guys, Jessa has the look again.” Tyson pretended to struggle and hold me back. At least I think he was pretending, since my feet had started to move on their own.
Braxton laughed. “Time to feed our girl.”
Quale was more talkative now, giving us the reviews on each place we passed by. There was something from every culture and country … but my heart was set on Italian. It was one of my favorites and it felt like years since I’d seen pizza and pasta. I didn’t even need a guide; the scent of garlic and oregano led the way. I could have found the sidewalk eatery with my eyes closed.
I barely took the time to notice the red awnings and jumble of white-clothed tables in and outside the roomy space. I escaped Tyson’s clutches to run inside, ignoring the glances from the dozen or so supernaturals who were already eating – lucky bastards.
A shifter was behind the counter. I didn’t have time to scent his animal, I was too busy starving to death.
My words came out in a rush. “I’m going to need one of everything.” There was probably a menu somewhere, but who the hell had time for things like that.
The male grinned, and I was distracted for a split second. He was cute, but way too soft for my taste. I liked my men large and hard. This shifter screamed gentle. He was probably a rabbit or something prey-like.
“Well, yes, ma’am, I’m more than happy to oblige your request.” Flirting, and a southern accent … interesting that the first supernatural I talked to here was American.
A shadow fell over us. “If another ma’am comes out of your mouth, you’re going to be bouncing on one leg, rabbit.” Braxton looked unamused. And I’d totally guessed the animal correctly. “We’re going to need enough food for eight hungry supes.”
The lanky rabbit, with his caramel skin and black hair, seemed to actually pale under the stare of the dragon. Braxton had that effect on most males.
The server scurried off to pass the order on to those out the back. Braxton laced his fingers through mine, and without actually dragging me, made it very clear that we needed to go back outside.