by Zoe Chant
Everyone but Fiona instantly switched from staring at Nick to staring at her, all with identical looks of bafflement.
Irritated, Raluca thought, Is it truly so shocking that he and I settled our disagreement?
They are surprised at your voice, her dragon explained. Only Fiona has never heard you speak before.
Raluca didn’t want to explain why she sounded so different. Hoping no one would inquire, she addressed Hal. “Nick is correct. We quarreled, but it was due to a misunderstanding. He saved my life last night. I do not wish to be guarded by anyone but him.”
“Actually, if you still want to go to that nightclub tonight, I could use a little help,” Nick put in. “Can I have two volunteers to guard the doors?”
Destiny, her eyes dancing with merriment, raised her hand like a schoolgirl.
At the same time, Rafa said, “I’m in.”
“Oh, well. I’m tired anyway. I could use a night off.” Fiona turned to Raluca and made a flawless curtsey with the skirt of her little black dress. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Princess Raluca.”
Raluca, unable to curtsey in fatigues, bowed instead. It was incorrect for a woman, but it seemed like a better option than awkwardly offering her hand, as Hal had done when they’d met. “I am pleased to meet you as well. But I am no longer a princess. I am only Raluca.”
Fiona smiled, but her green eyes stayed cool and watchful. They were as intense as Nick’s, but a lighter shade: spring leaves, not emeralds. “In that case, Raluca, please make yourself free with my clothes.”
Raluca gritted her teeth. She was certain that the woman was making a veiled insult, given that Raluca was already wearing her clothing with no invitation from their owner, but it was subtle enough to be worthy of Uncle Constantine. From Nick’s lack of reaction, he’d completely missed the implications and taken the remark at face value.
What on earth had Raluca done to offend Fiona? They’d only just met. Was she really that annoyed over her clothes being worn without permission? Coolly, Raluca replied, “Thank you, I shall wear them whenever I feel like it.”
“Oh, you don’t need to,” Destiny put in. “Rafa and I collected everything from the hotel. No signs of assassins, but we’re keeping your belongings at Protection, Inc. for now. We stashed it all in the other bedroom first thing this morning. You know, the one you two weren’t sleeping in.”
Instantly, Nick said, “I slept on the floor.”
Hal and Rafa again stared at him, Hal with a carefully straight face and Rafa with dawning realization. Raluca groaned inwardly. From their lack of reaction, Destiny and Fiona were still unaware of Nick and Raluca’s actual relationship, but Nick had obviously just given it away to the men.
“Of course you did,” Rafa said, his voice quivering. Raluca was certain he was trying not laugh. “Well. This should be an exciting evening.”
“I fucking hope not,” Nick said. “I’m counting on you and Destiny to stop any assassins before they get to the door. I’ll pitch in if you need me, but I’m really hoping Raluca can get one fucking evening of goddamn fun without anyone trying to murder her.”
“You make it sound so appealing,” Rafa remarked.
Hal held up a huge hand, silencing them all. “Okay. Fiona, get some rest. Rafa and Destiny, scope out the nightclub. I want you both watching from the rooftops three hours before it opens. Maybe you can catch someone trying to set something up. If you don’t, get down and blend in. Nick, you’re in charge of this operation from the ground. Call me if you need me, of course.”
Then a startlingly sweet smile altered the masculine planes of Hal’s face as he looked from Nick to Raluca. “But I hope you do have just a fun night out. ”
“Want me to teach you the latest moves before I go?” Destiny asked Raluca. “I saw your nightclub outfit. It’ll look great on you.”
“I saw it too,” Fiona said to Raluca. “Wise of you to go to the cheap store. I’m sure you’d be very put out if Nick was injured protecting you and bled on an expensive dress.”
An inferno of fury blazed up in Raluca. Her eyes felt like flames, and she knew they were glowing like molten silver. She took a step toward the blonde woman, intruding upon her personal space, daring her to back away. Fiona held her ground, but her eyes turned icy as her snow leopard readied itself for a fight.
Raluca’s voice rang out with the power and depth of a great bell in a tower, echoing around the office. “As I’m sure you’re aware, over-dressing is just as ill-mannered, improper, and insulting as under-dressing. And if Nick is ever injured on my behalf, I shall be too busy tending to his wounds and taking fiery vengeance on those who harmed him to pay any heed to my clothing.”
A brief silence fell. Nick, who had opened his mouth, no doubt to defend her, closed it again.
“Also,” Raluca added in a final knife-twist, “I can afford to replace any number of couture gowns. A spoiled one is of no importance to me. It’s sad that the same is not true for you. But since you were so generous with your own clothing, in the future I will give you all my hand-me-downs. I have them often; I never wear last season’s styles.”
Raluca closed her mouth, satisfied with that devastating series of insults. She waited for her enemy to cringe in humiliation, or perhaps even flee.
But Fiona did not seem crushed in the slightest. Bizarrely, she looked pleased. Her eyes brightened with a golden sparkle, like summer sunlight falling warm on grass. She gave Raluca a smile that seemed absolutely sincere. “Good. That’s all I needed to hear. You and Nick enjoy your evening. Call me if you need back-up.”
With a graceful wave to her teammates and a wink at Nick, Fiona went out, shutting the door soundlessly behind her.
Raluca looked at Nick, but he seemed as baffled as she was. To the room at large, he asked, “What the fuck was up with Fiona?”
“Rough mission,” Destiny said. “Sleep deprivation, stress, the works. Don’t take everything so personally.”
Emerald fire blazed in Nick’s eyes. He opened his mouth, then caught himself and took three deep breaths. “Right. Right. Okay, me and Raluca are going to grab something to eat. We can be back before you leave if Raluca wants to get a dance lesson.”
“I do,” Raluca said. “Thank you, Destiny. Nick, let’s go.”
She opened the door and fled before anyone could say anything else. Nick followed her.
Once the door closed behind them, Nick grabbed her hand. “Let’s get out of here. Unless you want to change first.”
Raluca hesitated, then decided that she’d rather wear Fiona’s fatigues than risk meeting Fiona again. “I’m fine. These are comfortable.”
She was immensely relieved when they made it into Nick’s car without running into anyone else. Now she understood why he hadn’t wanted to reveal their mating. Hal and Rafa had obviously found it hilarious, and were undoubtedly just waiting for Nick to confess it so they could tease him. She wondered if Nick realized, but a glance at his face told her that he hadn’t. She considered telling him, then decided not to. He seemed stressed enough already.
And no wonder, with the bizarre behavior of his teammate! Fiona’s sudden switch from blistering hostility to apparently genuine friendliness, for no reason whatsoever, was even more unsettling than if the woman had been consistently unpleasant. If Fiona continued to be nice, Raluca would never know if she might be secretly plotting against her, or might turn around and insult her again for no reason.
“Does Fiona often change her opinions so quickly?” Raluca asked.
“Not at all. I have no idea what got into her.”
“But the sofa...” Raluca began.
“The entire team had a grudge against me. Fiona was just a little bit more memorable about it. Anyway, she had a good reason to be pissed at me then. She had no reason to be mad at you. And the way she dropped it was really weird.” Nick frowned. “Maybe I should go back up and make sure one of the paramedics checked her. She could’ve been drugged or something on the miss
ion.”
“Could anything like that escape Hal’s notice?” Raluca asked. “If she returned acting strangely, surely he had her examined already. Or is having her checked now.”
Nick relaxed. “Yeah, you’re right. If it was a rough mission, he’d definitely have had Ellie or Catalina or Shane give her the once-over. I bet Destiny was right and Fiona was just really sleep-deprived. That can make you do weird things. Rafa and I were on a mission once where neither of us could sleep for three days, and by the end of it he was hallucinating pretty pink butterflies and it took me half an hour to figure out that the reason a door wouldn’t unlock was that I was holding the key upside-down.”
Raluca decided to give Nick’s teammate the benefit of the doubt, for his sake if not for Fiona’s. “In that case, I shall give Fiona a second chance. Perhaps she will not even recall this first meeting once she’s slept.”
“Speaking of sleep.” Nick settled a casually possessive hand on her thigh. “We overslept big-time. Can I take you to lunch? To make up for Big Bacon?”
“Of course.”
Nick still hadn’t started the car. He took a breath, clearly edgy, as he said, “There’s a place I’d like to take you. It really is my America. A neighborhood joint. Casual. American food. Good, but nothing fancy.”
“That sounds lovely,” Raluca said. “I did mean it when I said I wanted to see the real America.”
“Okay.” Nick started the car. As they began speeding with traffic, he added, “You don’t have to like it. Don’t pretend for my sake. If you hate it, we can leave.”
Raluca now recognized the signs of Nick laying down his defenses against some impending hurt. “Is this a place that means something to you, Nick?”
“Yeah,” he confessed. “Sorry. I should’ve told you up-front. It’s owned by one of the wolves from my old pack. They all hang out there. Their mates, too. I’ve never brought anyone there before but my teammates.”
“Ah-ha,” Raluca said, smiling.
“Yeah, but the food really is good. If you don’t like the burgers, it means you don’t like burgers, period. There’s a jukebox, too.” At Raluca’s baffled look, he explained, “An old-fashioned music player. The music’s old-fashioned, too. But in a good way. Same as the food: if you don’t like the music, you don’t like country. That shit I played to piss you off was making my ears bleed, too.”
Raluca laughed, looking at the wires dangling from the hole in his radio. “I shall be honest. But I would like to go.”
Soon Nick pulled up in front of a building with a sign reading, “Dan and Kate’s Diner.” The neighborhood was clearly not wealthy, but it had the same vibrant quality as the mural of the woman with rainbow hair. Tall trees blooming with a profusion of purple flowers lined the cracked sidewalk, a man was selling ice cream out of a push-cart to a mob of eager children and adults, and the buildings looked small and cozy.
Nick scanned the interior, then escorted her inside the restaurant. He seemed edgy; despite his words, he clearly wanted her to like the place. Raluca too was nervous, wondering what she’d think and how he’d introduce her. Music, food, friends: she hoped she’d sincerely like at least one.
The interior was filled with the enticing smells of frying fat and grilling meat. A lively song was playing, but softly enough to not drown out voices. The tables were polished wood, the booths lined with soft red plastic. An odd machine stood at one corner.
There were only a few other customers, and they all looked up in surprise as Nick and Raluca walked in.
“Hey, Nick,” a gray-haired man called as he walked in from the open kitchen. “Who’s the pretty lady?”
Nick took a deep breath and addressed the room at large. “Her name’s Raluca, and she’s my mate.”
The customers and waitress exclaimed in pleased surprise and started calling out congratulations and questions, some teasing and some serious.
“How’d you meet?”
“You gonna make an honest man of him?”
“Are you a shifter?”
The gray-haired man held up his hand, and everyone fell silent. “Let Nick and his mate enjoy their lunch. You can quiz them and buy them drinks later. They’ll be back.”
“Thanks, Dan,” Nick called.
“We will,” Raluca said. She smiled at Dan. “I like the music.”
Dan indicated the machine. “Jukebox is over there. It’s mostly country. Not radio country, the real deal. Oldies, bluegrass, gospel, that sort of thing.”
Raluca looked at the machine with new interest. “I do not think I have heard any of that.”
“Let’s fix that for you.” Nick steered her to the jukebox. It had a panel of buttons and song titles and numbers listed in a book with plastic pages. “Do you know any of these?”
“No. You choose something.” Lowering her voice, she added, “Your friends seem nice.”
Nick looked immensely relieved. Then his bright smile flashed, and he said, “I’m sure they’re glad you approve of them. They have wolf hearing.”
Raluca almost blushed. She’d forgotten. But if anyone had eavesdropped, they were polite enough to give no sign of it. And at least they’d overheard something positive.
“This song makes me think of you.” Nick hit a button, and a new song began to play.
Raluca shot Nick a menacing glance. “I hear twanging.”
A woman’s soulful voice rose above the guitars.
She don't need anybody to tell her she's pretty.
She's heard it every single day of her life.
He's got to wonder what she sees in him
When there's so many others standing in line.
Raluca took Nick’s hand. Softly, she said, “I see everything I want in you.”
Nick ducked his head, hiding his face from anyone who might be watching, but his fingers tightened around hers.
They stood still and listened. The singer had a beautiful voice, and the song, about a woman who chose freedom despite its cost, stole into Raluca’s heart.
She’s fragile like a string of pearls.
She’s nobody’s girl.
Raluca touched the strand of pearls around her throat, her eyes prickling with unshed tears. She’d had princes and dragons standing in line, but it had taken a wolf from the American streets to see her soul and show it to her in a song.
“Come on,” he said, his voice catching a little. “Let’s order.”
They slid into a booth, with Nick sitting where he could watch the door.
The waitress was a plump middle-aged woman whose shirt bore a tag labeled “Kate.” She smiled at Raluca. “I’m so glad to meet you. We’ve all been hoping for years that Nick would find his mate. I’ve never forgotten the moment I laid eyes on Dan. Your first meeting must have been so wonderful!”
Nick made an odd coughing sound, then another. He shot Raluca a desperate glance.
“Indeed,” Raluca said smoothly, saving him from having to either confess or lie. “It was quite an experience for both of us. And I am very pleased to meet you as well. Some day you must tell me the story of how you and Dan met.”
“I’d love to,” Kate said with a sincerity that made Raluca certain that the story of Kate and Dan contained no misplaced rage, vengeance via giant hairballs and oyster forks, or assassination attempts. “But for now, would you like a menu?”
Raluca turned to Nick. “I would not know what to choose. Order for me, please.”
“We’ll both have the classic burger, fries, and cokes. Thanks,” Nick said.
As Kate headed back to the kitchen, another song began. This one was by a man with a resounding deep voice, fierce and commanding.
Well, you wonder why I always dress in black.
Nick whipped around. Raluca followed his gaze, and saw Dan at the jukebox.
The gray-haired man tipped an imaginary hat to Nick. “Couldn’t resist. She doesn’t know country, so she couldn’t pick one for you herself.”
“What is this song?” ask
ed Raluca.
“‘Man in Black,’” Nick replied, much as he had said, “World’s biggest lobster.”
Nick was also dressed in black, but from the glances he and Dan had exchanged, Dan’s choice of song was more pointed than a simple joke about Nick’s clothing. But as Raluca listened to the song, she understood.
The man with the booming voice sang that he wore black as a reminder of the poor, of the unfairly imprisoned, of young lives lost in pointless wars and old people dying alone and forgotten, of everyone treated badly who deserved better and of all the injustices of the world. He sounded angry. Passionate. Challenging.
“Dan knows you very well,” Raluca said.
Nick started to shrug, then caught himself. “Yeah. He does. And so do you. But just out of curiosity, what did you think about the songs as music?”
“I still don’t care for twanging,” Raluca admitted. “But the woman’s voice was beautiful. The man’s too, in a different way. And both singers sounded as if they truly felt the emotions they sang about. I like that. The ‘Why I Am Drunk’ songs did not sound sincere.”
Nick laughed. “That’s the perfect name for that crap. Congratulations, you do like some country. At least, you like classic stuff like Bonnie Raitt and Johnny Cash. I had a feeling you might.”
Kate, who had stepped up with a platter of food, said, “Nobody is allowed in here if they hate Johnny Cash. Proves they have no soul. Enjoy.”
Raluca had seen hamburgers in movies, but never eaten one before. She watched Nick pick his up in his hands and take a bite, then followed suit.
The meat patty was juicy and savory, the bun soft on one side and crisp on the other. Like her maid’s sausage wrapped in ham, it was simple but tasty and satisfying. So were the crisp potato sticks.
Raluca picked up her glass of bubbling brown liquid and examined it with interest. So this was the famous Coke. It wasn’t available in Viorel, and she’d never gotten around to trying it when she’d seen it in other European cities. It looked like dark beer, but she knew it was non-alcoholic and sweet. Other than that, she’d never heard it described, only seen it enthusiastically drunk in movies and TV shows.