? ? ?
I hid in the storm, walking away from the clamor in the main intersection of town and into the first weedy lot after the row of businesses and shops. The last business in the row had a newly applied sheet of plywood on the side wall, half-hidden by weeds . . . covering a hole. I remembered when the hole had been made. Lucky had thrown a bowling-ball-shaped keep-away spell at me and missed, trying to kill me when we first hit town. The nails holding the plywood in place didn’t hold up to the strip of metal I used like a crowbar to expose the hole into the beauty shop. It was tight, but I was able to step through and I shook myself like a dog, my pelt shedding water that went everywhere. Following the trajectory to the inside wall, I found another piece of plywood and pried it off too.
I ended back in Lucky’s shop and raided the beer cooler. Three beers later, even my skinwalker metabolism was feeling pretty good, if hungry. So I raided the refrigerated meat counter and settled to a table with a fourth beer, a beef roast of some unknown cut, a dish of pulled pork barbecue, a half loaf of bread, and some slaw that smelled heavenly, even to my Beast. And I ate most of it before Eli managed to pick the lock on Boudreaux’s Meats and get in out of the rain.
He closed the door behind him and switched on a small but powerful flashlight. He caught the broken plywood first. Then me. I figured Alex had found me by tracking my cell phone. I had hoped the rain and the magic had shorted the thing out. No such luck.
“You leave any for me?” Eli asked.
“Not only that, I made you a sandwich.” I pointed to the last sandwich, one I had really made for myself, but this was much better and made me sound unselfish. Maybe even noble, since it did involve food. Eli grabbed a beer and straddled the bench beside me. He gathered up the oversized sandwich and took a huge bite. I hadn’t known his mouth could open that wide.
“Not bad,” he said as he chewed. “But with Lucky’s meats, even you couldn’t make a mess of it.”
“Ha-ha.” I pushed over the open container of slaw. It bumped the edge of the flashlight and sent the beam rolling crazily for a moment. “I left you some, but there was only one fork.”
“You don’t got cooties, do you?”
“Yup. Girl cooties. But I’m pretty sure you can’t get them from eating after me.”
Eli chortled and nearly choked. When he got his airway clear he asked, “You got the wreath?”
“Yup.”
He nodded contemplatively as he chewed. Pulled his cell and sent a quick text before putting the phone in his pocket. He ate a bite of slaw and made appreciative noises that might have been This is good, if he hadn’t been chewing at the same time. He swallowed and said, “The demon melted into a puddle of mud and Margaud was unconscious under a tree outside. You do all that?”
“Yup.”
“That’s my girl.” He lifted a fist and I bumped it, but he wasn’t done. Carefully expressionless in face and tone, he asked, “You bleed much?”
“Not as much as last time. It was pretty bad until I got some beers into me.”
Eli looked over the table and onto the floor where I had started placing empties inside the wreath. “Eight beers?”
“So far.”
“You drunk?”
“Oddly enough, pretty much. I’m thinking that bending time does something wonky to my metabolism.”
“You’re still pelted.”
“Yeah. I noticed.”
“You and Bruiser ever—”
“No. Do not go there. Ewww.”
Eli chuckled and ate more of his sandwich and I realized he was teasing me. Through the bite, he asked, “What are you going to do with the wreath?”
“I don’t know. But for sure the vamps and the witches here won’t see it again.”
“And where’s the Anzu?”
I ate some meat, using my fingers to stuff it in. Licked my fingers. The paw pads felt weird on my tongue. I opened another beer. Drained it halfway. I kinda liked having a buzz, even if it meant I was going to be an alky and go to hell, according to some of my housemothers as I was growing up. “I haven’t decided about that,” I said. I picked up la corona and placed it on my pelted head at a jaunty angle. “Gee calls me little goddess. I think I’ll wear it for a while. You know. All goddess-like. With a crown. Before I decide.” I ate some more meat as Eli finished his sandwich.
“I guess we should pay for this stuff,” he said. “Think forty will cover it?”
I shrugged and Eli tossed two twenties into the light of the flash.
“You did it, you know,” he said. “You got the vamps and witches talking and the Moutons will be brought under the watchful eye of the newly appointed Bayou Oiseau Citizens’ Council.”
“Self-appointed?”
“Yeah. But it’s a multiracial, multispecies, multigender council, so it’s a start. And it’s better than what they had. Which was nothing.”