“She hasn’t lived here her entire life,” I said before I could think about it.
Shaw’s lips pressed together in quiet amusement, but Jeremy perked up. “Oh, really,” he said and leaned forward. “So you’ve talked to the quiet barista and know about her history?”
I sighed. “She offered,” I said. She’d offered a lot more than I was willing to tell them. And while, yes, she was cute, she was also too perky. Too upbeat. Especially for a barista. Anyone who served coffee should fully understand that the regulars, the people who truly needed it, didn’t want to talk about anything, until at least half a cup was consumed. Usually more.
On the days she was working, I tried to make coffee at the house and take it in a travel mug, just so I wouldn’t have to hear her rambling chatter at six a.m. “If you haven’t already noticed,” I said to Jeremy, “she talks a lot.”
Jeremy speared me with a glance. “She talks a lot. Toyou,” he said. “Why won’t you go over there and chat her up? Maybe ask her out?”
Shaw gave me a sympathetic glance. “He doesn’t want to, Jeremy.”
“You are aware that we are talking like old hens?” I grumbled. “I’m not interested in coffee girl. Nor am I interested in anyone right now.” I leaned forward, trying not to eye Shaw and Jeremy’s coffee with jealousy. “What Iaminterested in is that storm brewing overhead. What do you think is the cause of it?”
And with that my love life, or lack thereof, was pushed to the side.
Having friends who were just as passionate about conspiracy theories as I was usually allowed me to steer them away from any personal topics.
Later that night,I wished the same could be said for my sister. She was like a dog with a bone when it came to getting into my personal business.
“She has a great personality,” my sister said.
All of us at the dinner table groaned loudly. My brother, Bronze, interjected. “That’s what all the girls say when their friend looks like three-day-old roadkill!”
My sister’s blue eyes blazed in her pale face. “Take that back, jerk!” she shouted just before she lunged across the table and tried to choke him.
Bronze jerked back, a wide grin on his face and stuck his tongue out at Moira. “It’s true,” he said and sniggered as her face went beet red.
Bronze wasn’t wrong. I knew this out of personal experience after Moira once set me up with a “studious blonde with a heart of gold.” I showed up to the diner and there was a woman there who looked like Moaning Myrtle, complete with the smell of a toilet around her. I managed to tolerate the smell for a while and was even impressed with her wit, but when she cracked open a beer and drank it down in less than ten seconds (followed by a belch worthy of a contest win), I claimed I had explosive diarrhea and hauled ass out of the place as fast as my legs could carry me.
I’d never let Moira set me up on a single date since, though she claims that the woman’s hygiene was the result of a bad spa experience and nothing that couldn’t be overlooked.
I begged to differ.
Copper, my other brother with a more unfortunate name than mine and Bronze, stayed silent, content to shovel biscuits into his mouth with all the speed and couth of a t-rex on methamphetamines. He’d heard this all before. At least three times a year, my sister would harp on one of us to get married and start popping out werewolf babies.
My other brothers weren’t as resistant to it as I was, though. Copper, unbeknownst to everyone else, had a pretty little lady on the outskirts of town. She was an herbalist, though if she was non-human I didn’t know about it yet, and content to sell her wares outside of a little shop right next door to her home. I’d heard wonderful things about her offerings, and she was also pretty easy on the eyes. The only reason I knew about it is I had to go into his car to get something out of it and a business card in the cupholder caught my eye. Immediately suspicious (and shamelessly nosy), I followed him discreetly the next time he’d made some lame excuse to get away from us. He pulled right up to the front of the healer’s house, got out of his car, and scooped her right up into his arms as soon as she stepped out the door. Shocked, I had to really concentrate on not sending my car straight into the woods. Copper wasn’t one for affection but the light-haired, pretty little woods witch had apparently gotten under his skin.
I smiled all the way home and kept his secret. It had been four months and he still hadn't said a word to anyone. Good on him.
I turned my attention back to my well-meaning sister. “I appreciate it, but I’m not interested right now. I have too many other things going on to worry about dating.”
The eye roll my sister gave me was epic. “Oh really?” she drawled. “Do you mean busy as in that weird ass group of friends you have over at the skeptic society? What do you guys even do all day? Sit around and think up the weirdest shit possible, then try to make it into history?”
I counted to five in my head as I tried not to snap at my sister. Granted, I took a lot of crap from the people in this town because of my beliefs, but there was something going on around here that couldn’t fit neatly into a box. “Moira,” I countered, “have you seen the sky lately?”
Something flashed in her eyes.Everyonehad seen the sky lately. “The weather channel here says it’s just a strange meteorological pattern that should pass on by within a week or so.”
“Have you ever seen a storm system hang on for this long?” I asked. It had been two months since the storm above us swirled overhead. For the most part it had been calm, but there had been rumors flying around since the first night. Some very odd things were dropping from the strange swirling pattern right above our heads.
Bronze spoke up. “Guys, stop. Can we just enjoy our dinner?” Usually it was with our parents, but they’d been out of town on vacation for the past week. Now that we were all adults, they’d been gone more and more, gallivanting around the world. I missed them, but it was nice to have two fewer people harping on me to settle down.
A wicked glint sparked in my sister’s eyes and I sat up a little straighter. I never liked that look. It meant she knew something I didn’t and since it was directed at me, it usually meant whatever it was had the potential to make my life miserable.
“I had a chat with Mom and Dad a couple of days ago,” she said.
“Good for you,” I said, my drawl the perfect combination of derision and boredom. “Are they enjoying squandering all of our inheritances?”
Bronze snorted at that one. We joked with our parents about it, but we were long-lived creatures. Any werewolf who didn’t have a contingency plan for funds had gone terribly wrong somewhere in their lives. Our parents could stay gone until they died and we’d still have enough to live on for eternity. As long as we kept investing just a little bit, it would always come back to us.
