Tacos Wolves and Abnormal Behavior (Grimstone Island) Page 3

  Where did that leave me?

  Wading through the pile of werewolves, accompanied by Ma, to help separate the hairy idiots. This went on for hours. Yes, hours of breaking up battles, which restarted on and off again. By the time it was finally over, the nameless chick had already left, seven tables and fifteen chairs were destroyed, and my legs were riddled with bite marks.

  Days two, three, and four were similar. More damage, more teeth marks, and more absolute fuckery.

  It’s a wonder people still wanted to eat here.

  Wait! Dinner and a show. I get it now.

  Anyway, the fifth day, I was waiting for Pops to unlock the restaurant. He was talking on the phone while trying to insert his key and kept missing the hole. While I stood giggling at how horrible he’d become with multitasking, I had half a mind on tracing the alphabet on the tree trunk like pillar by the door. I gave it about seven seconds of thought later but that was it.

  However, the entire day was peaceful.

  In the end, I wondered if it was because of my finger tracing, something I’d never done before. I’m a weird little dude who believes in such cosmic changing things, and to my surprise, doing it again led to another storm free workday. Of course, there were still bumps here and there. I mean, hell, seven years of nothing ludicrous happening would be impossible. Overall, the roof hadn’t caved in, the boys had cooled it, and granny Lola wasn’t whacking us all with frying pans.

  And I’m super-duper positive it’s because of my finger tricks.

  I couldn’t harness magic on the same level as spellcasters, though who the hell really knows what was up with me and my brain?

  Half the time, I don’t.

  “You done?” Piper teased her lime-green locks and brushed long neon yellow painted nails along her tall ears that were jeweled with dozens of studs and little hoops.

  “Yep, almost, just a couple more Qs, annnnnd now I’m done. Let’s go.” I high knee marched inside, immersing myself in the restaurant’s woodsy theme. Can’t get any more original than a pack of wolves having decorated the place like the great outdoors. Wooden everything, forest print wallpaper, dimly lit lanterns hanging over tables and booths, and despite a large gory painting of a wolf’s jaws sunken in the neck of a frightened deer—an awaiting potential hate crime protest by deer-shifters—the place was quite cozy.

  “Giiiirrls!” Ma sang as she handed us server aprons and mini note pads for orders. She kissed our cheeks. Piper had to bend for the woman to peck hers. “How’s your brother, Piper?”

  “Not the same hardass I once knew.” She grinned, tying the apron on.

  “Having a precious new baby will do that.” Ma giggled, then fixed me with a pointed look.

  “What?” I blanched. “I’m not a hardass!” And I’m not having a kid to prove it, contrary to my mama’s wishes.

  The vampire mate of Piper’s older brother, Keeland, just had a baby boy, named Evan. His hybrid blood makes him unique and adorable as hell, with dark green corkscrew curls and elf ears. His small slobbery mouth was still devoid of teeth but for one baby fang. I’d had the chance to visit him with Piper one day. Yeah, I got the feels while holding the bouncy boy, but afterwards, one step outside their home and I was back to normal.

  Uterus completely content with being empty.

  Ma was still giving me her “I want grandpuppies” stare.

  On that note, I hoofed it around her and clocked in.

  Chapter Three

  Kokoa’s magnificent finger trick has struck again!

  Sorry, that was a lie.

  The leftover syrup on them must’ve caused it to backfire. Hey, I never said every day at the grill was tranquil. I also had no clue that my boisterous, mountain-sized uncles would be stopping by for steaks and a side of disruption.

  Or that one of them would be bringing a damn banjo. Courtesy of uncle Liam, and sadly, this wasn’t his first time performing in public. He climbed on top of a table in the middle of the dining room, pissing off Ma with his dirty boots, and bellowed to eating people a tune he made up right on the spot.

  “Kill that pig, that big fat pig

  Chase the fucker,

  He hit a trucker

  Drag him through the streets,

  Yeah, he feels that heat

  Damn that pig, that big fat pig

  I don’t like figs, they give me the trots

  Find me a pig, I want a lots

  Get a pig and make it hot

  Crack and sizzle

  That pig is gonna fizzle.

  Flip and turn

  Throw him in a pan and watch him burn—

  WE’RE ALL GONNA EAT BACON TONIIIIIIIGHT!!!!”

  He ended the horrid song by biting the banjo in half and yelling, “THANK YOU GROWLING GRILL! Ah-woooooooo!” he howled.

  Can’t say what crazy pills the customers in the building were on, but it must’ve been seriously powerful stuff since they all cheered and shouted for an encore. I wasted no time dashing to the kitchen for a breather and to save my ears from Liam’s second track of porky death.

  Inside the bustling kitchen, six of my tall, brunette brothers—three older, three younger than me—were assembling food on serving trays. My mouth watered at the sight of barbecue sauce drenched ribs, buttered corn, and mashed potatoes in a puddle of gravy—

  “Aye, aye! watch it! No drooling, sis!”

  “The secret ingredient is not saliva.”

  “Back up, food destroyer.”

  I sneered at the exclamations from younger brothers; Jonas, Josh and James. The twenty-year-old triplets. I refrained from calling them pups, though refrained, since their last barb was quite accurate. Tyler, Austin, and Devin, the oldest three, smirked at my pout, while more family—I’m too tired to get into more names —handed food to them behind the serving counter.

  My six wolfy-beast siblings had our dad’s dark, rugged looks, and bulky frame while our two eldest sisters, Bonnie and Tammy, and I were blondies, thanks to Mama.

  Yet, no matter the age, I was the only shorty amongst them all.

  “So, Kokoa...” Devin—aka Devil Motherfucker, The Evil Wolf, because he loves to start shit with everyone—flashed a sharp, toothy smile. “About Saturday, you excited to get humiliated in front of Carver? I hear he’s currently in Venezuela commanding a takedown of a pack of nasty rogue wolves.” His blue eyes turned dark purple, clouding with mischief. “Makes you wonder what type of mood he’ll be in on your festive day.”

  I slammed my forehead on the stainless-steel counter and groaned.

  See what I mean? Evil.

  “Knock it off!” Tyler, the enforcer, punched his side. Devin laughed in between wheezing. “Ignore him, Kokoa. No one knows where Carver is,” he said, ladling blue cheese dressing in a small cup for a tray of buffalo wings.

  Goosebumps sleeved my arms, and my inner she-wolf whined. Carver’s lack of whereabouts was not settling right with me.

  Then I perked up. Maybe he was super busy and deep in the wind. He might not be able to show. Oh, I liked that thought. I liked it a lot.

  Or that could be a steaming pile of horse hooey.

  “Argh! Can someone please tell me why he’s going to pop the fuck up on Saturday?” I shouted, causing everyone to freeze. “Seriously, what’s the big deal? I’m sick of the secrecy and sympathies from people.” The constant need to hide in a bomb shelter was getting old.

  James stepped forward and hugged me, squishing me against his extra cologne chest. He patted my head. “You poor child,” he whispered as if I’d lost a loved one. “It was nice knowing you—”

  “Oh, fuck off, James!” I pinched his belly. He howled then joined his identical fiends in laughter.

  “I wouldn’t worry about it,” Austin said softly. “He’s coming for your birthday. That’s all.”

  “But do we know that for sure?” Jonas chimed in. His crazy, spiky hair, wide grin, and the creepy look in his eyes gave him the appearance of a mad scientist, or a madman that should be carted into a white panel van. “Maybe there is a specific reason. If you ask me—”

  “No one did.”

  “—I think you’re a part of an ancient prophecy,” he continued, voice going low and grave. “The explanation as to why your wolf-self was born different than the entire family.”

  He had to stick that in real good.

  “And shit is about to go down in the universe and Carver needs you to sacrifice your left paw on Saturday night before Grimstone is suddenly in the middle of a human apocalypse—”

  “Gods, shut up.” Austin clucked his tongue. “Can’t Great-grandpops just stop by and see his family? His kin on her birthday?”

  “You really believe that, smartass?” Jonas widened his stance. “How come he never did on our birthday months ago, or the year before that, and the year before that, huh?” He gestured to his clones. They nodded in unison. Jeez, I wanted to snicker.

  Austin sighed. “Honestly?” He placed a hand over his heart. “Carver saved good time and energy to not fly all the way to the island and watch you three imbeciles actually use the chew toys Aunt Becky bought y’all. They were joke presents! Carver would sooner shoot his foot off than see you all turn wolfy and play with a damn squeaky duck.”

  “I was only kidding around!” Jonas’s voice cracked. Catching it, his face turned beet red.

  “You sure?” Austin grinned then flapped his arms. “Quack, quack.”

  That did it.

  The Terrible Three broke out the claws, tails, and snarling thick fangs. Austin beat his chest, hands already furry.

  “Come at me! Bring it!” he roared. “I’ve wanted so long to knock your heads together again!”

  The four lunged, crashing to the floor. Kicks landed in guts. Bites chomped on muscled arms. Tyler hovered above, doling out punches. It was great to have a favorite sibling whose fist is the size of a brick, but bad if that was the only force to keep everyone in line because that caused more of my brothers to get hairier and snap their sharp canines. Devin belly flopped on top of them all, ripping shirt collars with his teeth.

  Fueling the fire, cousins at the stove egged them on, since yup—wolves love to get rowdy. I backed up, feeling a bit guilty I might have started this, but that guilt went away when I saw Devin being put in a headlock and get his nipple twisted.

  “Hey! Fuckwits! Ma will rip off tails if those orders don’t go out,” shouted our older sister-slash-manager, Bonnie. She’d stormed in on short heels, hands on her ample hips.

  She was right. Ma’s wrath was far more catastrophic than a human apocalypse. That immediately defused the fight.

  They kept quiet while shifting back to normal. Red-faced and still glaring at one another, they prepared to exit with their large platters of food. Devin snapped his muzzle an inch from my nose. Austin flicked his ear.

  Then my next words were universe shattering.

  “Uncle Liam is singing.”

  That stopped them cold, causing them to bump into each other. Worry and horror captured their faces. They looked at the food in their hands, most likely thinking the people who awaited it wouldn’t mind holding off a few more minutes. That’s if no more requests sent Liam singing again, and if so, those folks were going to have to gnaw on napkin holders.

  “Get going,” Bonnie snapped with a smirk. They passed through the swinging door, Liam’s screeching—I mean, voice of an angel—streamed in. I plugged my ear holes until the last brave Lovell male disappeared and the door swung shut.

  “What are you doing back here?” Bonnie aimed her laser beam baby blues at me. “Starting trouble?”

  “What?! Why would I... Okay, maybe a little.”

  “Asking about Carver?” she guessed right, wiping food debris off the counters.

  “Possibly. Most likely... precisely.”

  “I say, let it go.”

  “How can I, when Ma was acting suspicious when I first asked?” I flung my hands up, feeling a growing storm of insanity taking control.

  “Ma’s a wacko. Let it go,” Bonnie said again then walked away. I always did like Tammy better. She was Blood Mated, and at the second, was probably home chasing one of her five kids around the living room.

  I exhaled loudly. Maybe I should drop it. No one was making sense, so it probably was nothing. I know y’all can certainly agree I’m looking mighty stupid and being the biggest annoyance about the matter. For that, I apologize. Send your addresses, and I’ll gift you a basket full of T-bone steaks.

  No promises there won’t be any bite marks in them.

  Piper breezed in with napkins in her ears. “KOKOA!” she yelled. “TABLE SEVEN WANTS ANOTHER ORDER OF BARBEQUE WINGS AND EXTRA RANCH—”

  I yanked out the napkins before her high volume broke folks’ eardrums in the near vicinity. Wow, harmed ears seemed to be the theme of the day.

  “More wings? I gave them the check already,” I said, confused.

  “Turns out, Liam singing ‘Oops I did It Again,’ pig edition, while playing spoons, is super entertaining. Now, everyone wants to stay and order more food.”

  “First of all, how can he incorporate pigs into one of the best Britney Spears songs ever?” I quickly stopped her reply by holding up a finger. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”

  “And the wait time has been pushed to an hour. The front door is crowded with people.” She shuddered. Booming business was always a good thing. But, I cannot stress this enough: my uncle’s vocals are not. Seriously, what in the hell was wrong with everyone out there?

  “Your mom is enjoying it. She’s having a field day.”

  Speak of the devil, Ma stuck her head in. “Kokoa, pumpkin, come help us arrange more seating.” Her round face beamed. “Liam is attracting so many customers, we may need to set up picnic blankets on the floor! Come on, now!” Her head disappeared, and I made the few steps to the door after her, shoving my hands in the pockets of my server apron.

  “Aren’t you coming?” I asked Piper.

  “Are you psychotic?” she countered, giving me a look that matched her question.

  I shrugged. Apparently. It runs in my DNA.

  * * *

  A couple hours later, I burnt rubber. My shift, or you could say jail sentence, was over for the day. Piper split, too, though she trekked it to Punctured Ink again.

  I entered my oasis and shut the cabin door softly behind me.

  Ahhh, I sighed.

  No sooner than I’d tossed my purse, keys, and phone on the coffee table, I heard a light knock on the French doors leading to the deck—a ground level wooden fixture that wrapped around the whole cabin.

  Jeez, what now?

  Spinning, I faced the door and smiled. My heart clapped. My girlie parts cheered to the almighty, grand castle in the sky.

  Gavin. In unnatural speed, I was suddenly in front of the doors, eyeing my undead visitor. His black hair was cropped on the sides, longer in the middle, and gelled back. Pale skin peeked out between the tattoos that engulfed his neck and all the way down to his knuckles. Underneath a tight white shirt, ink also covered his entire torso and abdomen. He was tatted when I met him and let me remind you the hunk of muscle is a century and a quarter old.

  The long years hadn’t been harsh to his undead sexy looks.

  My eyes continued to devour him—the vampire who excited every cell in my body.

  Please note that Jonathan also has me on the horny roller coaster, and they do know each other. It may seem... Okay, it’s blatantly clear, my inner slutty wolf wags her tail for both. However, I don’t hide it. Hell, I was the one who introduced them, and don’t think for a second that Gavin respected whatever relations were going on between me and Jon. Nope, he still flirted with me right in from him. They remained cordial. How? Well, I simply refused to be tossed into the black hole of awkwardness. There’s no need. I’m single. They’re single. What Gavin does in his free time is his business.

  Same with Jonathan, except we’ve been having sexy fun time with each other’s private business.

  They were both important to me, and I made clear from the start that I would whoop, pinch, and kick ass if things turned into drama. I can’t stand how women get caught up in the mix when being open is the right way to go. Making it clear where everybody stands is simple.

  I liked riding guy number one’s dick.

  And I liked being eye-fucked by guy number two.

  See? Easy.

  Okay, I’m stepping down from my soapbox, thus concluding my justification of being a little slut.

  Teehee.

  “Little Wolf,” Gavin said through the glass.

  “Vamp-Man,” I murmured and slid the door open. I didn’t make a move to let him in. He invaded my personal bubble, looking me over. Call me trouble; it’s the reason I hadn’t stepped out of the way. I was addicted to those ruby irises. Those hungry eyes sparked thrills in me like fireworks.

  They revealed too much, baring all. I could read him, like he did me.

  I saw he regularly fed. But he still starved.

  He appeared calm, but underneath, he ran a mile a minute.

  He said he was content. But I knew he craved.

  And what he craved...

  We shared the same desire, though his was a bit more warped in the head.

  My desire: Slightly rocking the boat of our cherished and slightly fragile friendship.

  His desire: Sinking that boat by anchoring his fangs into my neck.

  Gavin kissed my cheek and held up a greasy bag I hadn’t noticed before.

  Shame on me.

  “You brought me lunch?” I smiled when he nodded. And just like that, the trembling volcano between us turned dormant.

  All was well.

  For now.

  “I figured after a few hours working for your family, you dashed out before grabbing a bite to eat.” Oh, that wicked grin. It made my knees weak. I drew my attention to the package of heaven in his hand. Scrawled on the front: The Rabid Sombrero. My guilty taco pleasure.