Page 3 of Bewitched By the Werewolf
I peruse the menu for something to do. It doesn’t change that often and I tend to order the same thing for lunch, so there’s not much point in actually reading the menu. I check it over for new additions and spot fried pickles in the appetizer section. It only takes Becca a few minutes before she’s rolling back up to me on the opposite side of the counter.
“Alrighty, what can I get for ya today, Sheriff?” She pulls out her notepad from her apron around her waist and poises her pen over the paper waiting for my order.
For a moment I contemplate getting something different, Tobias’s words ringing in my ears from earlier about trying new things. The sensation passes quickly however, and I decide that what I normally order does make me happy.
“Chicken Club sandwich on sourdough, hold the tomatoes, side of French fries, and house salad with blue cheese dressing.”
Becca scribbles on her pad then looks up at me with bright pink eyes. “Anything to drink?”
“Water is fine.”
“You got it.”
She tears the paper from her pad and rolls over to the food window behind the counter and attaches it to a spinning wheel filled with other orders. We like to keep things low tech here in town. Lots of cash sales, paper food order slips and analog registers. There are credit card machines in some of the stores, but they aren’t used too often. And when they are the digital trail, if one were to look into it, would lead the searcher to a diner in Butte Montana. Just in case a curious human tourist gets home and wants to look up the cute town they stopped in for lunch.
Becca places a glass in front of me and fills it with ice water from a pitcher before rolling away to assist other customers, her pink shimmering wings fluttering behind her as she uses them to propel her through the diner. Becca is, what they call in the fairy world, a love fairy, or sometimes even referred to as cupids because of their matchmaking ambitions and antics. I thank my lucky stars she didn’t try to set me up again. If I told her once I told her a million times, I don’t date.
I scan the crowd to see who’s here today, usually my brother Hunter is among them. If I remember correctly today is burgerday. My brother has a penchant for schedules and routine. Every week like clockwork on Monday you can find him atDottie’seating a cheeseburger. I look around the filled booths and tables and don’t spot him. There must have been something at the office to delay him, which I know he hates.
I don’t care about my brother’s ridiculous schedule and ignore his absence, he’ll no doubt fill me in later. I spend my time watching the people and searching for newcomers. There’s still two weeks until the blood moon and I don’t expect too many new faces yet, but I do spot a couple in the corner. Tilting my nose up I sniff and search their scent. They look like humans, but their scent says shifter. Must be relatives of someone’s come for a long visit. From the smell of them they’re looking to mate bond under the blood moon, if the sickeningly sweet scent of their arousal is any indication. The rest of the restaurant is filled with locals.
A weird sense settles over my nerves, and my spine straightens. There’s something off, but I can’t put my finger on it.What the hell is that?It’s like a foreboding but stimulating, a strange mixture of dread and anticipation. I swivel on my stool facing the rest of the restaurant and take another look around, double checking there’s nothing amiss. Through the large windows nothing looks awry outside. Huh.
“Ryder, darling!” Dottie’s loud and very distracting voice forces my attention away from the strange feeling and back to the tiny blonde female behind the counter.
Swiveling back around to face her, she’s already smiling from ear to ear and there’s a knowing gleam in her eyes. She’s got some juicy gossip for me today, I can feel it. She leans her elbows on the white Formica countertop, her large flower earrings the same color as her vintage dress sway as she leans her chin on her hands and peers up at me. Dottie is a shifter, though you might not guess it by her petite stature. Most shifters, evenfemales, tend to be taller, more imposing, like Ginger. She may be considered beautiful, but that female is taller than most and can put most males on their asses. Dottie, however, is like the pocket-sized version of a shifter. More like a human in appearance when not shifted into her wolf or beast form.
Her hair is a bright blonde cut in a short style close to her head. She says it’s like some human woman named Twiggy from decades ago. I don’t know the reference, but I assume she was some sort of fashion icon back in the day. Her eyes are a bright hazel and lined with black and big fake lashes to accentuate them. Large doe eyes that now shine up at me with delight. You wouldn’t know it by looking at her, but Dottie is older than me, even has kids my age. One of which is the chef at this restaurant. But she looks no older than early thirties, and she won’t for a very long time. That is the way we age; normal like a human until we reach maturity then much, much slower. Living to nearly three hundred on most occasions, without outside interference.
“I have so much to tell you today, Ryder. You’re not going to believe all the wonderful gossip I’ve heard. Okay so firstly the Newman brothers were caught ditching school to shift and run in the middle of the day. Can you believe that? Impatient boys just can’t wait to run during the blood moon. But really? In the middle of the day? They should know better. You should talk with them; they’ll listen to you.”
They will for about two days then do it all over again. After the blood moon they’ll calm down and go back to their normal schedule. But she’s right, I should talk with them. Not only because ditching school and shifting as an adolescent in the middle of the day is against the rules, but that weird feeling from before is telling me no one should be shifting abnormally right now. I don’t know why.
I nod as Dottie continues with her gossip train, gesturing with her hands for a particularly scandalous story about twofairies walking around nude but projecting their glamour with clothing. Which means the humans can’t see their nudity but the rest of us can. I write down the few people that I’m going to need to make house calls to and discuss proper behavior.
Half of Dottie’s stories are meaningless to me and when Becca brings my food I eat while Dottie continues. There’s finally a lull in her endless monologue right when I’ve finished eating.
“Is that all for today? I wouldn’t want you to leave anything out.”
Dottie prides herself on knowing everything there is to know in town and loves being my unofficial informer on all matters Snowberry. She taps her chin and squints her eyes like she’s reading something written in midair.
“Um, well there was the elf but I already informed Hunter about him. So I imagine he’s already being taken care of.”
My posture goes rigid, and I stare unbelievingly at Dottie. She really left that for the end and as an afterthought? An elf in town should have been the first thing out of her mouth. They’re the scum of the non-human and human world, and usually not welcome in town. Although we can’t force them to leave without just cause, a stupid rule in my opinion but one we all have to abide by. Hunter told me about a rather relentless elf named Victor, who wants to buy our land and the town for reasons I doubt are virtuous.
“What elf? When? Where is he now? When did you tell Hunter?”
Dottie straightens from her leaning position on the counter and blinks wildly at me like she wasn’t expecting me to ask questions.
“Maybe an hour ago. I don’t know who the elf is but I believe he’s staying at the motel.”
A growl reverberates in my chest and a few nymphs sitting on the barstools nearby shrink away from me. I’m a big guy and amnot particularly known for my people skills, even considering my position in the town as sheriff and beta. I do my job, and I do it well. I don’t need to be a perfect conversationalist for that.
I run my hand through my unkempt hair and pull at it in frustration. “And you just thought I wouldn’t want to know about an unknown elf in town, and a male one by the sounds of it?”
“Yes, he is male as far as I know. I just figured Hunter knew and was handling it and would let you know if he needed anything.” She shrugs helplessly, as if she really didn’t mean to keep anything from me and thought Hunter had everything handled.
In truth he probably does, he is alpha after all, even though he’s my younger brother. I was never built to be alpha, hence the poor people skills.
