“Then I’ll leave you to it.” She hurried off to the next table.
No, I’m not really the one in the family who gets vibes. But something about her willingness to talk with me had the tin can rattle of fate.
One thing for sure, I was going to ask her exactly what abilities she had. I didn’t want a repeat of suddenly finding out we had a shape-shifting mimic in town.
Talk about an awkward race for mayor.
“Why are you freaked out over Piper?” Jame asked as he stabbed steak, potato chunk, steak onto his fork shish kabob style.
“I’m not freaked.”
He paused with the food halfway to his mouth, gave me a look. “She worries you.” Statement. Long stare.
“Nice alpha glare. But that doesn’t work on me.”
He grinned and just like that was back in motion again. “Something about her,” he said with his mouthful.
“Something,” I agreed. “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”
Ben was currently sucking on a French fry with the kind of ardor not usually allowed in a family restaurant. “She’s not human.”
“What?” He hadn’t exactly mumbled around the fry, but I wanted to make sure I’d heard him right. Because other than the apparent ability to see into the future of menu orders, she seemed very human to me.
He must have gotten his fill of sucking out the oil and salt. He licked up the length of it one last time then gleefully bit the fry into tiny pieces as he pushed it tip-to-end between his teeth. “She isn’t human.” He shook Worcestershire sauce into his tomato juice, dipped a new fry into the juice and started with the sucking again.
“What is she?”
He paused. Exchanged a look with Jame.
Jame straightened from being bent over his plate, sat back, and took a long drink of lemonade, watching me over the rim. Okay, maybe the alpha thing was a little unsettling.
“We thought you’d know.” He placed his lemonade exactly back on top of the ring of condensation it had left on the table.
“Why?”
“She smells like a god.”
“You’re kidding me.”
That look was definitely not kidding.
“Gods smell?”
This time he gave me a slow blink. Yeah, okay. That was a dumb question. Every kind of thing probably had a specific smell to a werewolf.
Holy crap. She was a god.
“But not a god,” Ben added. He nipped down another fry with tiny, vicious bites, and swirled a third in his glass like it was fancy shrimp in gourmet cocktail sauce.
“Explain?” I picked up my half sandwich and took a bite. Really decent combo of turkey, cranberry and cream cheese on lightly toasted, lightly buttered sourdough. Simple, handmade, and because of both: delicious.
“She’s not not a god.” Jame said this like it was a conversation they’d been having before they’d gotten here.
“And not just a god.” Ben pointed his fry at Jame. “Something else. Something more. Or less. Just...something.” He held Jame’s gaze and slowly slid the entire fry between his lips, sucking enough to hollow his cheeks as he devoured it whole.
From the look on Jame’s face, the fry-play his boyfriend was engaged in was doing it for him. He gave Ben a look that might best be saved for the bedroom.
“Hey,” I snapped my fingers. “Love birds. You’re in a family restaurant. Don’t make me be a cop on my dinner break.”
They gave me twin unrepentant grins.
I ate soup and tried to look imposing. Soup was good too. Hearty vegetable with just the right amount of basil.
“So you’re not sure she’s a god?”
Ben inhaled, exhaled, and his eyes did that vampire-light flash thing as he considered the question. “We thought you would know. Reed family job and all that.”
“I didn’t think she was a deity. She didn’t stow her powers, so if she is of the godly persuasion, she’s found a way to smuggle herself into Ordinary without the regular alarms going off.”
“You have alarms set up for god invasion?” Jame’s steak was gone, but he was still working his way through the potatoes, the neglected pile of green beans pushed carefully off to one side.
“Not physical alarms, no. I’d know. It’s...I guess it’s a part of our agreement with the deities. I can spot one a mile away.”
“So she isn’t?” Ben was done with his fries and sipped the tomato juice pausing to lick his bottom lip every once in awhile.
I watched Piper wipe down a spot on a recently cleared table, then tuck her cloth in her apron pocket and walk back to the kitchen. Was there something godly about her?
I could hear god power, knew the song of it, even when it was stored away and the god was vacationing as a mortal. A little echo of that power resided within the deity. I had gotten used to hearing it with Odin, Crow, Than, and the others. But I knew they were gods. Maybe I was just tuned into it because of that knowledge.
“I don’t hear power, don’t...sense it in her.” That worried me more than if I had sensed it.
Jame stole a few fries off Ben’s plate and stuffed them in his mouth, making a point to lick each of his fingertips as he gave Ben that alpha stare.
“Maybe whatever else she is covers it up,” Ben suggested. “Maybe she doesn’t know what she is.”
I shook my head. “If she’s a god, she knows. Power is never subtle, not even when it’s contained. I’ll talk to her. Do you think Lavius is alive?”
Ben didn’t even blink at the subject change, but Jame tightened, all the muscles of his shoulders and arms bunching beneath his shirt.
“Rossi said he’s dead,” Ben said.
“I already heard that from Rossi. I want to hear what you think.”
“I think he’s alive. I think he had Sven killed.”
“Do you have any proof? Anything I can use?”
If I thought Jame had been tense before, he was practically granite now. “No,” Jame said.
“Maybe,” Ben corrected. Another long-term argument? From the flare of annoyance on Jame’s face, yes.
“When I get that proof, I will contact you,” Ben continued as if his partner wasn’t balling his hands into fists hard enough to make his knuckles pop.
I looked between the two of them. Settled on Jame. “Don’t let him do anything stupid, all right? One Rossi was murdered. I don’t want to see that happen again.”
Now that I knew Ben was Rossi’s actual vampire-related kind-of-son, I really didn’t want to see what Rossi would do if Ben were hurt.
“I’ll look after him,” Jame rapped his knuckles on the table top. “No matter how stupid he’s being.”
Ben made a dismissive sound. “I’ll have you know I’m older than both of you by a long shot. I know how to look after myself, thank you.”
“Yeah,” Jame said. “So did Sven.”
“Sven was foolish,” Ben said. “And trusting. I’m smart and suspicious. Besides.” He flashed a winning smile. “I’ll have you tight—very tight—at my back.”
Okay, that was a bit over the line for subtle double-entendres.