Etched in Bone
Page 102

The vampire nodded. “Put us down for a piece. Don’t want to miss out on a delicacy.”
Jimmy barely contained his excitement as the vampire walked out, leaving him alone with the shopkeeper. Special meat. Delicacy. Hot damn, they’d picked the perfect night to empty the butcher shop.
“Afternoon.” He gave the shopkeeper a big smile. “I was hoping to buy some meat for the family’s dinner.”
The shopkeeper waved at the glass counter. “What I’ve got is here. If you want a quick meal, I’ve got slices of cooked meatloaf with gravy today. Was made fresh this morning. By a human.”
On any other day, he would have tried to buy a whole meatloaf, figuring to sell or trade half of it. But he didn’t want the freaks looking at him too hard today—and he didn’t want them whining to CJ or that bastard Burke about him taking more than could be eaten at one meal.
“I’ll take three slices,” he said. When the shopkeeper raised eyebrows that had more brown feathers than hair, he added, “The kids won’t be able to eat more than half a slice each, not when they’ll be having their vegetables too.”
Three slices went into one of those containers customers were expected to wash and bring back. Jimmy made the purchase and walked out. He kept his pace leisurely, even waved to the three bitches who were finishing up their meals.
Sandee was out when he got back to the apartment, and the brats were out too, so he heated one slice of meatloaf, then another half for his own meal. Having put the rest in the refrigerator, he spent the afternoon sitting on the porch waiting for nightfall.
• • •
Meg hung up her gauzy shirt in the back room of the Liaison’s Office, then went into the bathroom to splash some water on her face, brush her teeth, and pee. Euphemisms, she had learned, were wasted on Wolves. As soon as Nathan returned from his own midday break, he would sniff around the back room and be able to report exactly what she’d done, so what was the point of saying anything else? She’d tried the whole “I’m going to powder my nose” thing once, but every Wolf she knew had come around trying to sniff her face to be able to identify the scent of this powder.
Even with Merri Lee’s and Ruth’s help, she couldn’t convince the Wolves there was no powder until Simon confirmed that, in some stories, “powder the nose” meant peeing. Then Katherine Debany ruined it later that afternoon by taking out a compact and actually powdering her nose within Elliot’s sight. Naturally, Elliot informed Blair and Nathan—and Simon—and the whole “let me smell your face” routine started all over again.
She found Nathan in the front room, already stretched out on the Wolf bed. He yawned at her, showing off all his teeth. She wasn’t fooled. He only looked lazy and half-asleep. Any deliveryman who believed the ruse and acted inappropriately discovered how fast a Wolf could move—and just how much damage those teeth could do.
“Merri Lee, Ruth, and I had an excellent lunch,” she told him. “It was a salad made from fresh greens and garden vegetables with the last chunks of leftover turkey and hard-boiled egg, along with a variety of mini muffins we bought from Nadine. What about you? Did you have a good lunch?”
Nathan made a hopping motion with one paw.
“Fresh bunny,” she translated. “Yum.” Then remembering that he might misinterpret that as a request, she added, “Yum for you.”
Returning to the sorting room, she considered what to do with her afternoon until it was time to make her deliveries. The mail was already sorted and out with the ponies; her packages were organized on a cart so that she could load—and unload—the BOW efficiently as she made her rounds. She already had the library books she was delivering to the girls at the lake.
Meg blew out a breath. She could write a note to Jean or Hope or Barb Debany, or even to Jesse Walker in Prairie Gold. She could read one of the books she’d taken out of the library. Normally the thought of doing those things gave her pleasure, but now she felt restless, uneasy. Not prickling, not the pins-and-needles feeling that warned of something about to happen. It was more subtle than that, but it made her a little queasy.
Taking her box of prophecy cards out of the drawer, she opened the box and rested her fingertips lightly on the cards. But she didn’t have a question, didn’t even have a clue what to ask. She’d told Nathan about her lunch, he told her about his, and . . .
Sharp prickles filled her fingertips. She closed her eyes and chose the cards that produced the sharpest prickles. With her eyes still closed, she turned the cards over in the order she chose them.
She opened her eyes, studied the cards . . . and called Merri Lee.
“Can you duck out for a couple of minutes? It’s important.”
“I have a customer,” Merri Lee replied. “Let me finish with him, and then I’ll run over.”
A few minutes later, they were both staring at the three cards on the sorting table.
“So, what was the question?” Merri Lee finally asked.
“I’m not sure. When I choose three cards, it’s subject, action, and result.”
“All three of these are food cards. Okay, one shows a table full of breads, dairy products, and bowls of fruit; one shows a feast with cooked meats and vegetables; and one shows animals that are considered food.” Merri Lee frowned. “Are you still feeling the prickles?”
Meg shook her head. “But something is going to happen that concerns food.”