King Cave

by Scarlett Dawn

  My hands stalled. “Promise?”

  “Yes.”

  I nodded, glancing at him as I pulled the sweatshirt on. “What did you say?”

  He grinned, his fangs slightly lowered. “Nothing too bad.”

  Yeah, right. “Just be careful.”

  “Always,” he whispered, eyes moving around the room and not staying anywhere in particular as I began guzzling my water. “So, my dad.” He cleared his throat. “Well anyway, he stopped by the kitchen this morning and asked if I’d join him and my mom for lunch. I told him I had plans already for brunch…”

  I blinked, watching as his eyes flittered everywhere but me. “It’s alright if you’re cancelling. I can just meet with King Fergus earlier.”

  His eyes did meet mine then. With a bit of irritation. “You’re still going to meet with him?”

  My eyebrows rose, but I whispered, “He’s lonely. I was lonely. We’ve become…friends, I guess. I’m not going to leave him hanging when he needs someone.” I shrugged, drinking from my water bottle again. “Plus, it’s fun.”

  His lips pinched, but he didn’t say anything further about King Fergus. “I wasn’t cancelling our brunch.” His fingers tapped on the bleacher. “My dad asked who I had plans with,” he paused, clearing his throat, “and I told him you.” Another pause. “He somehow manipulated the situation to where he and my mom are now joining us.”

  I stared. “You didn’t.”

  “Not on purpose,” he groused, sitting forward and rubbing his neck. “He got the better of me.”

  Goddamn Cahal and his wily ways. “Well,” I guzzled the rest of my water, “I think I’m not feeling well.”

  Ezra shook his head. “Don’t try to back out. It’ll only arouse his suspicion more.”

  I groaned, chucking the empty water bottle into my bag, which I then zipped up. “I’m all disgusting and stinky. If I’m going to,” Christ, “have a meal with your parents, I would prefer to be clean.” I paused. “And possibly drunk.”

  He glanced at his watch. “No time for either.” He stood, grabbing my bag and tossing it over his shoulder. “We’re meeting them in ten minutes.”

  “Perfect,” I mumbled, walking with him as I tried to fix my ponytail, half my hair wet from sweat. “Maybe I’ll stink them out.”

  He chuckled. “Vampires, sweetheart. Not Shifters.”

  “Any clue why he wanted to have lunch with you?”

  He peered at me, eyes roaming my face. “Just to have lunch.”

  “Oh.” I glanced forward. It had been so long since a parent figure wanted to have a meal with me just for the mutual pleasure of it that I had forgotten families actually did that. “Right.”

  I could still feel his eyes on me as we wound through the Mysticals, who were watching us warily since we weren’t arguing, and he finally asked, “Did you and your mom have a favorite place to eat?”

  My smile was soft. The hurt of her death was no longer unbearable. “At home. She loved to cook.” My grin increased, memories invading. “She used to slap at Antonio’s hands when he tried getting to the food before it was ready.” I chuckled. “I remember a few times when he chased her around the kitchen while she held a bowl of cookie dough like it was a football. She would always threaten to beat him over the head with her skillet when it got to that point.”

  “Sounds nice,” he murmured, standing close to me when the walkway became too crowded. “We ate out a lot since my mom could burn water she was so awful at cooking. Our favorite place was this little Italian restaurant with the most hideous red décor, but the food was amazing. We’d go there every Wednesday night for family night, no matter our schedules.”

  I blinked. “Is it Wednesday?” Time had blurred here, days becoming weeks as we waited, at the brink of war, in this sanctuary.

  “I don’t know,” he said absently. A pause. “We should get a calendar so we’re not oblivious.”

  I nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly as we paused before the dining hall’s doors. “Show time.”

  Ezra grunted and then inhaled deeply, opening the door for me.

  It was deja vu all over again as the place went quiet when we entered. Ezra and I ignored them the best we could as we peered around the dining hall. Leave it to a scary-ass mom to embarrass her son fully by shouting from the far corner, “Ezra, dear!” She waved grandly. “We’re over here!”

  My lips pinched in an effort not to laugh as Ezra sighed, giving her a little wave as everyone’s heads flew back and forth between mom and son, watching. He pointed at the buffet, and herded me in that direction, just as we heard his mom state loudly and gruffly to the entire packed dining hall, “Show’s over, people. Eat your damn food and quit gawking.”

  A chuckle did escape me as Ezra sighed again, rubbing his face, cheeks pink. “Aw, she loves you.”

  “Damn embarrassing,” he muttered, grabbing two plates. “I’ll never hear the end of it from the Vamps.”

  I snorted, and whispered as the dining hall began to resonate with quiet chatter, “Just threaten to invite your mom to their gatherings and they’ll shut up.”

  Ezra hummed as I picked up two plates. “Not a bad idea.”

  Sitting at their table with our trays loaded with plates and drinks, Ezra and I politely ignored the way his parents eyed our food. It was the usual wide-eyed expression most adults had at seeing our normal intake of yummy grub. Although, they didn’t seem surprised by Ezra’s — their gazes pretty much stuck to my tray, which held just as much as his. In their silence, we did our normal: set the desserts between us, eyed each other’s food to see what the other had gotten — just in case we had missed the other sneaking in something extra tasty — then pretty much reached over each other to snag items we really wanted…because it never failed that someone else’s food looked better than your own.

  Grass…greener…yada, yada.

  But I was proud I remembered to place my napkin on my lap. I wasn’t one to go without manners, so I carefully stuffed my mouth full of sausage drenched in syrup from Ezra’s plate. God, that was good. Okay, maybe a little moan escaped as I forked another one, even as he nabbed a few strawberries off my plate.

  But he did the unthinkable. He tried to take my strawberry jam packet. I growled, my wolf taking voice, slapping his hand. “Mine.”

  His eyes narrowed, and he slowly took the banana pudding from its place between us. He held it far away, my eyes avidly on it. “Then this is mine, since I got it.” His head tilted toward the buffet, slowly grinning, his eyes still slitted. “And I got the last one.”

  My hand fisted on the strawberry packet, lips pinched, the smell of bananas wafting toward me. “Fine, I’ll split the jam.” My other hand reached for the pudding, fingers waggling.

  “Thank you,” he nodded, setting the banana pudding between our trays again. “Jam, please.”

  I grumbled, but handed it over, watching him closely as he picked up his knife, positioning it over the opened packet. “Nope.” My finger flicked. “To the right a little.”

  He gave me a cross look. “This is half.” And he sliced into it.

  No, it wasn’t.

  I waited a moment, then stole his knife with the jam on it. “My half.” I grabbed my toast before he could argue, spreading the jam. I bit into it, grinning around my bite. “And it’s good.”

  He growled, his predator ticked, but grabbed his knife back and spread his jam on his bread.

  Vivian cleared her throat, and we both jolted in our chairs, our attention snapping to her. Again, we had forgotten about the people sitting with us. I wasn’t sure if it was a food thing, but Ezra and I were making a very bad habit of this. His parents were both resting back in their chairs, staring.

  Stupidly, I mumbled, “We like food.”

  “I don’t believe that escaped our attention,” Cahal stated dryly.

  “You would think they hadn’t eaten in weeks,” Vivian murmured absently.

  Ezra cleared his throat and picked up a cup of h
ot chocolate, holding it out to her. “I got this for you.”

  I stared at the wafting steam rising off it, the scent of creamy chocolate — my hot chocolate I had asked him to grab for me — filling my nostrils as he tried to give it away.

  “Dear, I think you had better put that back down,” Vivian stated quietly.

  “Shit,” Ezra mumbled, my attention avidly on my drink as he set it back on his tray and grabbed the cup of steaming tea next to it, holding it out to her. “I meant this one.”

  Covertly, I lifted my hot chocolate off his plate, putting it on the far side of my tray so he wouldn’t try again to give away what was mine, as Vivian took the tea, saying, “Thank you. Although, I am surprised you thought of me during your raid of the buffet.”

  “Was there anything left?” Cahal drawled.

  “Give us a break, Dad,” Ezra grumbled. “You were young once.”

  Cahal chuckled. “It feels like forever ago.”

  Ezra grinned, grabbing his coffee off my plate. “It was.”

  Vivian smiled at Cahal. “Wide open.”

  I glanced at each of them while chewing my waffle — my mouth closed. They were one of those families. The cutesy kind. All smiles and love.

  There had been plenty of smiles and laughter in my family, too, but there had also been an underlying caution. We were always watchful. A bit wary of those around us, at all times. Even at our dinners we would always have half our attention on the front door as we joked with one another.

  Cahal caught me staring, his eyes quickly assessing. “So, Ms Ruckler,” too late to glance away, dammit, “we know scarcely anything about you. What can you tell us about yourself?”

  Hardly anything. I pointed at my chewing mouth. Stalling. Organizing my thoughts, I wiped my mouth and took a few swigs of my coffee, then stated, “You know Antonio and my mom, Angela Springs, raised me. After Antonio left, my mom passed away, and my uncle,” Ezra growled a bit, “took over my guardianship until King Kincaid took over that duty. I was mated to Dominic Kincaid before he was murdered. His power went to me at his death, and I became the Prodigy Shifter. The rest you pretty much know from there.”

  My head tilted. “I also love to read for pleasure, my original degree being in Creative Writing before I was put on the fast track to graduate in Political Science. I enjoy the outdoors as long as it’s not snowing. Hate materialistic items unless they serve a valid purpose, although, I have a secret passion for tattoos,” I whispered, “They’re hot.” I cleared my throat, moving on, “I’m an extremely skilled driver. Need a getaway driver and I’m your gal. I’ll pick a romantic movie over an action flick any day, but give me a great comedy and it’ll be a toss-up…unless it’s cartoons, in which case, reverse everything I just said. I don’t agree with rules that hold no meaning except for ‘they just are’. I loved my mom, and amazingly, I still love Antonio. Also, my favorite food is ice-cream.”

  Cahal stared.

  Vivian blinked.

  And Ezra continued eating.

  Hopefully that was enough abstract information to distract them from the fact I hadn’t mentioned a damn thing about my younger years when I was hiding in the Com community. I picked up my spoon and quickly scooped up some banana pudding, since Ezra’s spoonfuls were twice as big as mine and were making it quickly disappear. Our spoons scraped against each other’s just as he took the last bit.

  “I only got one bite,” I grumbled, scowling as his spoon rose to his lips. “I was talking, Ezra.”

  He stared at his spoonful, and then sighed, handing it over.

  I dropped my utensil, grabbing his, and hummed in pleasure as banana exploded across my tastebuds. “Thank you.”

  He shrugged and grabbed my coffee cup off my tray, since his was long gone. There was half left in mine, but I didn’t mind since I had a Coke to wash down the rest of my food. I put his spoon back on his tray and picked up my fork — as Ezra sipped at my heavily creamed and sugared coffee — slicing off some off my pancake. “I’ve never been to California,” I said cordially to his parents, not forgetting they were there this time. “Ezra’s told me his favorite parts about it, but what made you choose to live there in the beginning?” I placed my slice of pancake in my mouth, looking up to them politely.

  Vivian’s mouth was slightly parted, her eyes darting back and forth between us. My chewing slowed as my eyebrows puckered in confusion, my eyes darting to Cahal. He was watching Ezra, who in turn was staring at my plate, eyeing the remaining food there. Absently, I pushed my tray to the side, farther from his reach, while pushing the full fruit bowl in the center closer to him, as my eyes moved back and forth between his parents.

  Cahal cleared his throat, apparently just realizing they had been silent for too long after my question. “That’s where I chose my home base. I enjoy the weather.”

  A perfectly non-descriptive answer.

  Which I ignored, asking, “Mrs Zeller, is something wrong?”

  Ezra’s head snapped up from the food, obviously hearing the caution in my tone.

  Her finger started to lift, pointing, but Cahal’s hand quickly covered hers, lowering it back to the table, and he murmured, “She’s fine. She’s just in shock.”

  She was staring at our food, which we had managed to put pretty much all away.

  “You should see us when we’re really hungry.”

  Ezra’s head cocked. “Is that all, Mom?”

  She blinked. “Yes.” She cleared her throat. “Only shock.”

  Lie, then truth.

  My gaze narrowed, following hers. She was staring at my coffee cup in Ezra’s hand. Casually, I lifted it from his grasp, ignoring his grumbling to not drink it all, and took a sip. Watching her. Her eyes widened marginally, her heart rate accelerating.

  Ezra’s hand halted in trying to get it back, and his gaze slammed to her, apparently hearing the same thing. “Mom?” His head cocked, staring at me when she didn’t answer. He blinked. Blinked again, his eyes going to the cup I held, tapping my fingers against it. I had no clue what was going on. But Ezra stilled, eyes widening before hooding, his heart rate shooting off.

  Glancing at all of them, I murmured into the quiet, “Do I want to know what we’ve done wrong now?”

  Ezra’s chuckle was breathy and, placing an elbow on the table and leaning heavily on it, he used his hand to cover his mouth. “Probably not.”

  “And still, I do.”

  That odd chuckle again as he flicked a finger at the coffee cup. “I forgot.”

  Truth.

  “Forgot what?”

  His eyes went to his parents, hand still over his mouth. “It means nothing.”

  Not so much the truth.

  “It took you long enough to remember.” Cahal rested back in his chair, arms resting over his middle. “You did it in front of my group the day Jacobs and Merrick arrived.”

  Again, Ezra chuckled. “That’s right. It makes sense now.” I was pretty sure I had never heard him make that sound before. It was more of a nervous gesture than an actual laugh.

  “Um, hello?” I stated quietly, placing down the coffee cup that had created this mess. “I would love to be enlightened.”

  Ezra’s gaze darted to mine, holding there. “Sharing a drink with another Mystical is a gesture that you trust one other with your lives.”

  I stared. “I think I’m missing the issue here. Of course we trust each other with our lives. We’re part of our four.” And the big deal is?

  “And?” Cahal hedged, head cocking.

  Ezra cleared his throat. “It’s really only a big deal if you do it in front of others during a large gathering like a meal or a party.”

  Still, I stared.

  Cahal coughed.

  Ezra’s head tilted back and forth, and he said quietly behind his hand, eyes on mine, “And the symbolic gesture is done when two people are,” he paused, “courting one another.” My mouth gaped, and he added quickly, “One partner initiates it, pretty much telling any othe
r suitors vying for the other partner’s attention to back off, and when the other partner drinks from the cup it means they accept the offer.” He choked. “It’s done at marriage ceremonies as an old tradition.”

  I was pretty sure my eyes were as large as saucers, but I cleared my throat, picking the coffee cup back up. “All that for drinking from this?”

  All three nodded.

  My chuckle sounded as weird as Ezra’s had, my gaze swinging back and forth between his parents. “Well, I told you guys I didn’t like rules that ‘just are’.” I toasted them. “Bottoms up.” And I downed the remaining contents.

  Ezra made a choking noise, his hand blurring he grabbed the cup so quickly from me, but I had already finished it off. There hadn’t been much left. He stared into its porcelain depths. He made a gurgling noise, tipping the thing upside down. Nothing fell.

  Vivian’s hand covered her mouth, her eyes wide.

  Cahal cleared his throat, staring at the cup. “What he didn’t finish telling you, Ms Ruckler, is the prophecy of the act of sharing a drink.”

  Ezra sat the cup down carefully. “If the drink is consumed completely, greed instead of selflessness, the one who took the last drop will sacrifice all for their partner.”

  Huh. “It sounds complicated.” I gestured to the cup. “And yet, it’s still an old tradition full of superstition. We had no clue what we were doing, and we’re only friends, not on the track for marriage.” I shrugged.

  Ezra rested back, also shrugging, finally getting his act together. “No problem.” He scooted the cup with his finger. Away from him.

  I snorted, giving him a moment more to compose himself. “No wonder Elder Merrick’s and Elder Jacobs’s eyes went wide.”

  “Yes, they were surprised,” Cahal murmured, his eyes still on the cup, like his wife’s. “And before, out of curiosity, I checked the beer bottle and the two coffee cups that day, after you left. There were a few drops left in each one.” His gaze lifted to ours. With very quiet words, he asked point-blank, “Is there anything romantically going on between the two of you?”

  Well, today he wasn’t beating around the bush, and beautifully, Ezra and I kept studious expressions on our faces, our heart rates normal. Probably because we had been accused of it so often in the past that we were now used to it. My eyebrows rose, and I pointed at the cup. “You’re asking because you believe in an ancient ritual?”