by Anne Bishop
But the coffee shop wasn’t open to the general public anymore, and those sips had to be taken much more carefully since she knew every person she fed on and didn’t want them to be harmed. She didn’t sip from Nadine in the morning for the same reason she didn’t take any life energy from the police officers—they needed that energy to remain alert and safe while they worked.
She wondered if any of the human parents realized why the children’s energy so conveniently waned just before bedtime. She wondered if Simon, Vlad, and Henry knew—or cared, since she wasn’t feeding on any of the terra indigene young.
“Am I going to be annoyed?” Tess asked.
“I think this might be advantageous for both of us.” Nadine held out a letter.
That would be nice if it were true, Tess thought as she read the letter. “I don’t understand. We get our supplies from Intuit and terra indigene farms.”
“The Courtyard does; that’s true. But those places send you an agreed-upon amount to provide for the terra indigene who are here, not for all the humans you’re now permitting to shop at the Market Square stores. If you use the supplies so that I can make things for A Little Bite, you won’t have any left to use anywhere else.”
That was true enough. More quantity restrictions were going into effect throughout the Northeast Region—probably the whole of Thaisia—because of delays when shipping foodstuffs from one region to another. Shops received a guaranteed amount of rationed items based on the number of households that were registered with those shops. Since the Courtyard residents didn’t receive ration books, it was unclear if they would be able to purchase anything in human stores.
“I went to the post office branch that used to deliver my mail,” Nadine said. “I listed the Courtyard as the new address for my bakery as well as my personal address. Because so many of the bakeries in Lakeside burned the night mine was torched, a bakery that existed previously is still considered a viable commercial business even if the owner is running it out of his home kitchen. As part of the fair-distribution restrictions in effect, supplies are being reduced by a third of a bakery’s previous usage. For most people, that’s going to mean a loaf of bread will cost the same but be a smaller loaf in order to supply all the registered customers. And that means families like the MacDonalds and Debanys, and your tenants in the apartments, will want to buy what they can through the Courtyard. The supplies I’ll receive will handle any baked goods those families may want, as well as being able to supply A Little Bite.”
“So you’ll use the kitchen here, but I’ll buy the baked goods like I did when you were located in a separate place?”
“Yes. You’ll pay me so my business will continue to operate as a business. I’ll purchase my own supplies, pay rent for my apartment, and buy things from the Market Square shops.”
It sounded like a way to complicate something that should be a straightforward exchange, but if Nadine needed to do that in order to follow human rules and keep her business, Tess could work with that.
“As an individual, I’m going to register at shops in the Bird Park Plaza in order to purchase rationed supplies. I think all the human households should do that, since we have that option. That way, if we run out of something before the next earth native delivery, there will still be a way to purchase things.”
Tess considered everything that had been said. Nadine had thought about this. Had Eve Denby or Twyla Montgomery been thinking about this too? What about Meg’s female pack?
“All right, we’ll try it. Do you need to put up a sign or something?”
“I thought we could put up a sign for the bakery near the coffee shop’s back door. After all, that’s where the supplies would be delivered.”
And not advertising the bakery where the sign could be seen by humans driving on Crowfield Avenue was practical, since none of the Courtyard shops were open to the general public anymore.
Tess felt her hair relaxing out of its coils. “Anything else?”
“I heard Twyla Montgomery wants to use one of the efficiency apartments. Since the other three efficiencies are already taken, that doesn’t leave any place for Emily Faire to live when she starts work at the medical office here. I’ll have an extra bedroom when I move into my apartment. Emily is welcome to use it.”
“I’ll let her know.” Tess watched a group of young men wearing white shirts, dark trousers with suspenders, and straw hats walk past the coffee shop’s windows and go into Howling Good Reads. “Looks like the first job fair applicants have shown up. They’ll be herded in here to fill out applications and wait.”
“What do you think? Should we offer muffins and sandwiches?”
Tess nodded. Fresh faces, here for only a day. While she served them food and drink, she could sip a little life energy from each of them.
• • •
Preoccupied with the humans who suddenly swarmed the Courtyard’s cluster of buildings, the smaller shifters didn’t notice the odd silence, didn’t catch the wild scent in the air.
The Elementals who were watching the swarm did notice those things but said nothing.
The lack of concern for a swarm both puzzled and intrigued the two Elders who had slipped into the Courtyard at first light—and confirmed that Lakeside was the right place to watch how different kinds of humans acted around earth natives. After they had watched long enough, they would share what they had learned—and the Elders in this part of the world would decide what kind of humans would be allowed to survive in Thaisia.
• • •
Simon wondered how the Simple Life folk on Great Island had spread the word to other communities so fast. Maybe Simple Life communities had one telephone for emergencies and someone had called other communities in the Northeast Region to tell them there was potential work for anyone who wanted to resettle in the Midwest? However they had done it, the young men who had made the trip to Great Island and then traveled on a bus to Lakeside for these interviews had come from several communities around the Feather Lakes and Addirondak Mountains. There were even a few from a community in the High North on the other side of Lake Tahki.
Two dozen men who had lived and worked around animals. They were familiar with dairy cows, not the beef cattle that were raised in the Midwest Region, but they could ride a horse and knew how to mend fences and work around a farm. They all had older brothers who would inherit the family farms, so this was a chance for them to make a new beginning, to establish something for themselves.
Nothing smelled off about any of these men. Nothing raised his hackles. Nothing about them troubled Vlad either. They were ready, even eager, to work—and to have an adventure.
There was nothing wrong with the five women who also applied to work on ranches, although they, unlike the men, had questions. Did the ranches have a dairy cow to supply milk? Were there chickens for eggs and meat? Were there any sheep to supply wool for spinning and weaving? What about goats?
How was he supposed to know? Whatever had been there that hadn’t run away or been eaten would be there when they arrived. As for supplies and whatever else was required, they would work that out with the residents of Bennett and Prairie Gold.
“Not bad for our first day,” Vlad said when all the happy humans climbed into the bus to go back to Great Island and pack their belongings and inform their families that they were headed to the western edge of the Midwest. “Twenty-four men to work on the ranches and deal with the horses and cattle, and five women who will tend the ranch houses and cook.”
“Four women,” Simon said, locking HGR’s front door with a relieved sigh. “I don’t think the youngest female wanted to keep house or whatever humans call it. She kept talking about being able to ride a horse and how she had learned to lasso animals by practicing on the dairy cows and the goats.”
“Well, Tolya will have to work that out.” Vlad laughed. “He might end up with his own exploding fluffba
ll.” He stopped laughing. “I never considered that Simple Life humans would have exploding fluffballs.”
Simon thought about the smile Merri Lee had given them earlier in the day when they told her about her promotion and the smile that lit up the Simple Life woman’s face when he said she could travel to Bennett for the final interview. Yep. Exploding fluffball. “That one is going to herd something, whether it has two legs or four. Better for Tolya and everyone else if they give her some cows to keep her busy—and happy.”
“I wonder if her family was thinking the same thing,” Vlad said dryly.
Amused—and glad they could no longer make a direct telephone call to, or receive one from, Bennett—Simon went upstairs to meet with the rest of the Business Association and discuss how they would feed the human pack.
• • •
Meg bit into her beef burger and chewed slowly, enjoying the flavor along with the novelty of eating at Meat-n-Greens with Simon and Sam in their human forms. They ate plenty of meals together, but it was usually at her apartment or in the summer room, not in the closest thing the Courtyard had to a human-style restaurant. This was new, and Simon wasn’t the only one who was watching her for any sign that this new experience—and the number of humans who were also venturing in for some food—wasn’t causing distress.
There had been distress earlier in the day. She’d endured the pins-and-needles feeling that came in waves along with the people coming to the job fair, hoping to build a future for themselves in another part of Thaisia. She’d been tempted to go into the bathroom and make a tiny cut on a toe, but Nathan would scent even that much blood and raise a howling protest. That would bring Simon, who would feel angry with the strangers and shut down the fair.
She’d been given a chance at a new life. She didn’t want to be the one who stopped other people from having the same chance. So she’d struggled with the craving to cut, telling herself it wouldn’t help anyone because she wouldn’t be able to ask anyone to listen when she spoke prophecy.
In the end, Nathan had made the decision for her by shifting to his human form and taking up a position in the doorway between the front room and sorting room. The deliverymen could see her working away in the sorting room, but it was Nathan who dealt with them and signed for the packages, giving her that much distance from actual contact.
It was enough—along with the Wolf eyes that watched every twitch she made and breath she took—to get her through the day. She’d left the office early to make her deliveries, getting back to the Green Complex long before the rest of the residents finished their workday. She’d sat in the summer room, doing nothing but listening to the birds chirping as they went about their own day in a part of the Courtyard that was, for the moment, free of Hawks.
By the time Simon got home, she was calm and ready to pick up Sam at the Wolfgard Complex so that the three of them could have this dinner together.
Meg felt prickles come and go as friends came in, but no one’s presence produced the painful buzz that might compel her to make a cut. Eating at Meat-n-Greens wasn’t a new experience that might overwhelm her. She’d been here with Ruth and Merri Lee. She’d even come in by herself for a meal. It was the experience of being here with Sam and Simon that was new—and that made her happy.
“Meg? You want a bite of my bison burger?” Sam held out his barely cooked burger. “It’s really good.”
A Wolf offering to share food wasn’t a small gesture, but . . . “No, thank you, Sam. I have my own burger.”
“But yours is beef,” Sam protested, as if she’d been given inferior meat.
“I like beef better than bison,” Meg assured him.
Sam looked stunned. “Why?”
“Enough, pup,” Simon said. “Let Meg eat her burger in peace.”
But Sam wasn’t done exploring her food choices. “What about deer? Do you like deer better than beef?”
No, she didn’t, but she was getting used to it, just as she was getting used to chops on the menu coming from other animals as well as pigs, and being served freshly caught duck or goose instead of chicken when the meat was listed as “poultry.” She hadn’t, to her knowledge, eaten elk, moose, or horse. She was pretty sure horse wasn’t a meat offered in the Courtyard anymore, which made her wonder who ate the horsemeat now.
“Meg?” Just a hint of concern in Simon’s voice.
Meg set her burger on her plate and picked up her fork to eat some of her salad. “I like deer meat, but I like beef better.”
Sam ate a couple of bites of his burger. Then he turned to Simon. “Maybe Meg doesn’t like eating deer because she doesn’t get any of the best parts. Maybe you could give her some of the heart or—”
Meg’s fork clunked on the plate. She swallowed hard to keep her suddenly queasy stomach from doing something that would ruin everyone’s meal.
Simon’s hand came down on Sam’s head so fast, the boy didn’t have time to flinch let alone avoid his uncle. Not a slap or a grab, just the weight of the leader’s hand giving a warning, keeping a youngster from causing trouble.
Meg heard nothing, but she was sure plenty was being said between them using the terra indigene form of communication. Then Simon removed his hand, discipline completed.
Looking thoroughly chastised, Sam sat with his head bowed, his lower lip quivering, and his hands in his lap.
Meg looked at Simon, who resumed eating his meal as if nothing had happened. She wanted to mimic Simon’s move, put her own hand on Sam’s head, run her fingers through hair that was a mix of gold and Wolf gray. Whether it was fur or hair, the coloring made him distinctive. According to Jane, the Wolfgard bodywalker, the fur would change as Sam matured, becoming more of a gray shot with gold—better coloring for a hunter.
Privately, Meg hoped Sam would retain more of the gold color in his human form. All the girls would have crushes on him—as long as he didn’t talk about his meat preferences.
Anxious looks from Sam. A different kind of look from Simon. More of a question: had Sam ruined her enjoyment of the meal?
Since she didn’t want this to be the only time they ate together like this, she picked up her burger and took another bite, hoping her stomach had settled. She swallowed and nudged Sam. “Eat your burger. And your salad.”
The chastised look faded. Sam gave her a happy puppy grin and attacked his meal with enthusiasm.
Simon focused on his own food, seeming to ignore both of them. But the one time he looked at Meg, his amber eyes were filled with amusement.
Relieved that he wasn’t angry with Sam, and a little bit curious about what had been said that she hadn’t heard, Meg watched a couple of the Addirondak Wolves approach the counter where Michael Debany and Merri Lee were studying the menu board for the day’s offerings. She couldn’t hear them, but it was obvious that the humans were explaining how to place an order, pay for their meal, and receive a number that they would put on their table when they sat down. When the meal was ready, whoever was serving tables that day would bring the food over.
“Prickles?” Simon said so softly Meg barely heard him.
But she saw the way he watched her, and she considered the question. Wolves and humans interacting. She rubbed her foot against her calf. Was that a tingle or just an itch?
Meg shook her head and turned her attention back to her meal. No, there was no danger in the Courtyard. At least, not tonight.
• • •
As they walked out of Meat-n-Greens, Simon caught the back of Sam’s shirt. “Meg and I are going to walk around the Market Square. If you stay out of trouble, we’ll all have a scoop of ice cream before we go home.”
Letting out a happy arroo, Sam raced away from them, heading straight for Nathan and Blair, who looked less than happy about the number of humans shopping in the Market Square that evening.
Watching Sam’s bouncing enthusiasm, Simon linked h
is fingers with Meg’s and they headed in the other direction. Since Blair led the hunt when the pack needed meat, Simon didn’t want to hear the dominant enforcer’s opinion of a human who preferred beef over venison. Beef had to be brought in from the farms that supplied the Courtyard; venison was available on the hoof right here.
But Simon wondered if he would be the only Wolf who would have a quiet word with Boone Hawkgard to make sure Meg received her share of any beef that came into the butcher shop.
“You eat hearts?” Meg asked as they wandered around the Market Square looking at the stores.
“If I tell you, will you throw up?”
“No.”
He studied her and finally decided she wouldn’t. “I’m the leader of the Courtyard and the dominant Wolf of the pack here. When we bring down game, I have first choice of the heart and liver. When I’ve had as much as I want of those meats, Elliot and Blair take the rest.”
“What about lungs?”
She wasn’t looking at him, but she sounded interested in an “I just found a big spider in my shoe” sort of way.
“We’re Wolves, Meg. We eat most everything on a deer. Even bones. Although a lot of times we don’t eat the smaller ones as they are because they could splinter and get stuck in someone’s throat. So we grind them up with a rock before eating them.”
“Why eat bones?”
“The nanny in the pack where I grew up always said you eat strong bones to make strong bones.”
“We drink milk to make strong bones.”
“After a pup is weaned, there’s not a lot of milk in the wild country.”
Meg said nothing for a moment. “Has Sam eaten a heart?”
“He’s displaying his dominance in the puppy pack,” Simon replied. It thrilled him that Sam had come so far in just a few months, that the pup he’d had to keep in a cage after Daphne’s death was not only playing with the other pups but showing the strength and personality of a Wolf who could lead a pack. “So, yes, I’ve allowed him to have a taste of a deer heart.” He waited a beat. “Humans eat animal hearts and livers too.”