Romani Blood (Shifter Blood: Romani Curse Book 1)

by Frances Trilone

  “Dinner’s done,” he said.

  “This is Victor Macek, my fiancé.” Drina looped an arm around Victor.

  “You’re engaged?” I blurted, hoping my eyes didn’t pop out. Mom hadn’t said anything about Drina being engaged. We were both seventeen years old and Victor looked older. Definitely in his twenties.

  “We’re getting married next weekend.” She smiled. “You’re one of my bridesmaids.”

  “But. . .” I closed my mouth, remembering what Mom had said about Romani girls dropping out of school to learn wife duties. They also got married young. Well, that explained the hot-pink dress in the closet. “Congratulations.”

  “You can try the dress on later,” she said. “You’ll have this room to yourself after the wedding. Victor’s built us a house, not too far from here. It’s cute and has three bedrooms.”

  “Everyone helped build it,” he mumbled.

  My own bedroom, with a bathroom and walk-in closet? Maybe my luck had finally turned around. I pulled my cell phone out of my backpack and walked closer to the window. Two bars, but no text messages, or missed calls. Not that I expected to hear from anyone, as my supposed high school friends had kept their distance after I’d told them Mom was a Romani.

  Drina gasped. “You can’t have that.”

  “What?” I held my cell phone higher. Maybe if I had three bars, a text message might appear.

  “It’s a rule. No cell phones.” Victor held out his hand. “Give it here.”

  I swallowed hard and tucked my cell phone into the front pocket of my jeans. No way was Victor taking my cell phone. “It doesn’t work.”

  His bottom lip twisted. “No exceptions.”

  “You’re not taking it.” I glared at Victor, daring him to grab my cell phone. Mom hadn’t said anything about a rule on cell phones. If she had, I’d remember.

  “Daddy’s not going to like this.” Drina folded her arms. “You’re here for five minutes and already breaking the rules.”

  “Dinner’s getting cold.” Uncle Henry appeared in the doorway and glanced at Victor. “What’s the problem?”

  “She won’t give me her cell phone,” Victor replied.

  “It has photos of my dad,” I pleaded. I knew Uncle Henry always had the final word in family matters—at least, that’s what Mom had said. “I’ll do anything you want.”

  Uncle Henry looked at me and smiled. “Keep your phone. You’ll need it for your job.”

  * * *

  During dinner, Aunt Norma talked on and on about Drina’s wedding, but Uncle Henry said nothing about my job. Yesterday, Mom had told me I’d spend my days cleaning houses and learning how to read palms for the community’s fortune-telling business. She’d never said anything about a job.

  I ate another bite of fish pie, hoping this dish wasn’t something Aunt Norma cooked all the time. It looked exactly like chicken potpie with a flaky crust but stuffed with fish and cabbage instead of chicken and vegetables.

  Uncle Henry finished eating and leaned back in his chair. “The Elders came by last night. They want Sienna to work at Le Loup Gris.”

  Le Loup Gris? The words sounded French.

  “Absolutely not.” Mom glared at Uncle Henry. “She’s a Romani now. They can’t ask her to work in town.”

  “They’re not asking,” Uncle Henry replied in a firm tone. “She has to do this.”

  Mom jumped to her feet, ranting in their native Romani language. Whatever she was saying didn’t please Uncle Henry, it only made him angry.

  “We should talk in my office.” Uncle Henry stood and tossed his napkin onto the table. “Sienna, stay here.”

  I watched Mom follow Uncle Henry out of the dining room, surprised she’d broken the first rule she insisted I learn—don’t speak back to Romani men.

  Victor pulled a cell phone out as Aunt Norma and Drina took our plates to the kitchen.

  “You have a cell phone?” I asked, still annoyed he’d tried to take mine away.

  “Of course,” he replied. “But you’re not engaged or married, so you shouldn’t have one. It’s a rule.”

  That’s ridiculous. Mom definitely hadn’t mentioned that rule. “What’s Le Loup Gris?”

  “It’s the Gray Wolf Café in town.” His fingers pecked away at his cell phone screen.

  I waited a few seconds, hoping Victor might offer more information about the café. “When am I supposed to start working there?”

  “Henry will explain everything.” He slid his cell phone back into his pocket, got up, and headed to the living room.

  Voices drifted from the kitchen. I strained to hear what Aunt Norma and Drina were discussing. More nonsense about her wedding and the guest list. Nothing about my new job.

  “Where’s Victor?” Uncle Henry entered the dining room and sat across from me.

  “He’s in the living room.” I glanced into the empty hallway. “Where’s my mom?”

  “She’s taking a hot bath.” He clasped his hands on the table. “You look nothing like my sister. She said your father died a few months ago. I’m sorry to hear about his accident.”

  I glanced at Uncle Henry. Why would he care about my dad? He’d been a gajo, a non-Romani. And Mom always took showers. Something about sitting in water bothered her. Uncle Henry had to be lying.

  “What do you know about Woodlake?”

  “It’s a small town, famous for its fish pie.” I shrugged. “And the gaje gave land to the Romanies.”

  “That’s right. We’ve coexisted with the locals for a long time. It’s one of the reasons we don’t have to move around.” He cleared his throat. “Did Nells tell you about the Norwood wolves?”

  I nodded. “They’re dangerous, and they don’t like the Romanies, so we stay away from them.”

  “Yes. Stay out of the woods,” he said.

  Aunt Norma came out of the kitchen, carrying a glass full of whiskey. She set the glass down in front of Uncle Henry and returned to the kitchen.

  “Le Loup Gris is a café in town and they need some help.” Uncle Henry picked up the glass. “I already talked to the owner, and he’s agreed to let you work there. Have you ever had a job?”

  “I’ve babysat and tutored students in math.” I sat up straight, trying to hide my excitement. “Is Mom okay with this? She wanted me to clean houses and read palms with Aunt Norma.”

  “Don’t worry about your mom.” He swirled the whiskey in his glass. “You won’t be cleaning houses, but you’ll still need to learn how to read palms. The Elders won’t budge on that, so I got a few books for you. Nells said you know how to read. When you’re not working, I want you studying, and learning from Norma. Are we clear on what I expect from you?”

  “Yes,” I replied, nodding. A job at a café sounded better than cleaning houses all day.

  “You start work tomorrow. It’ll be mostly washing dishes and helping in the kitchen. Whatever they need done, you do it without complaining. I’ll keep half your paycheck and—”

  “That’s not fair.” My face twisted. “I’m the one doing all the work. Why am I giving—”

  He pounded his fist on the table. “You will not disrespect me.”

  I refused to look away. I didn’t care he was pissed at me for talking back. It was bad enough I had to follow their rules, but him keeping half my paycheck was wrong.

  “Do I need to remind you why you’re here?” Uncle Henry took another gulp of whiskey. “Your mother’s sick and needs treatment. She begged the Elders to allow her to come back, and I convinced them it was a good idea. We take care of our own here, and that includes paying for Nells’ hospital bills. Everyone with a job is pitching in to help, including you. That’s why I’m keeping half your paycheck. I expect you to start acting like a Romani. Are we clear on this?”

  “Yes,” I mumbled.

  “One more thing, I talked to the Elders about your cell phone. They agreed to let you keep it, but we have some conditions.”

  My heart sank. “What are they?”<
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  “You can take the phone to work, but it goes on my desk when you get home. They want your phone number changed, too.”

  “Okay.” Well, that sucked, but at least Uncle Henry hadn’t said anything about deleting old photos or contact numbers. I could still text and make phone calls while working at the café.

  “Don’t tell anyone at the café you’re a Romani. They’ll find out soon enough.” Uncle Henry drank the rest of his whiskey. “Get the waitresses to trust you, and then you can tell me what the gaje are saying.”

  “You want me to spy?”

  He leaned toward me with narrowed eyes. “I want you to keep your eyes and ears open.”

  I took a deep breath, disliking the idea of spying, but I didn’t have a choice. I had to follow their rules and stay out of trouble. I had to help Mom.

  Chapter 3

  Finding Le Loup Gris Café was easy, as only one café existed in Woodlake. In fact, there wasn’t much there at all—a small pharmacy, a bar on the outskirts of town, a hotel, and a store next to the café. There was a police station, a fire department, a grocery store, a post office, a school building, and a church, but nothing else.

  No movie theater. No mall. No bowling alley. No putt-putt golf.

  Woodlake existed for only one reason. Tourists came here to board the ferry to Norwood Isle, a national park located in Lake Sweeney. The gray Norwood wolves were a huge attraction for the island and protected under federal law, but that didn’t stop tourists from interacting with them. At least, that’s what the customers were talking about when I entered the café.

  “You must be Sienna. I’m Bill Porter.” A tall man in his fifties, with gray hair, and gentle blue eyes, shook my hand.

  According to Uncle Henry, Bill was an important man. Not only was he the town mayor and owner of the café, but his ancestors had helped settle Woodlake.

  “You can hang your jacket over there, and put your purse under the counter. Did you have any trouble finding the café?” Bill asked.

  “No,” I replied, taking off my jacket, and hanging it on a hook on the wall near the side door. After putting my purse in a plastic bin, I waited patiently as Bill answered the phone and wrote down a takeout order.

  Customers filled every single chair, including the red barstools near the front counter. The white walls were bare, except for a large mural painted on the left wall, opposite the large bay window that overlooked the outside seating area. The mural depicted several wolves standing near rocks, with water crashing against a lighthouse. Painted on the bottom in black were the words Norwood Isle, Come See Our Wolves. A bulletin board hung on the wall near the front door, cluttered with business cards, and a flyer for the missing tourist.

  “Let’s get you started.” Bill led me to a small office in the back of the café and handed me a black apron and name tag. He sat at the oak desk and logged on to his computer. “One of my other waitresses quit last week, so I need someone quick on their feet.”

  “You want me to wait on the customers?” I pulled the apron over my head, tied it around my waist, and adjusted the name tag. Uncle Henry had said I’d spend my day washing dishes and helping in the kitchen.

  “Is that a problem?” Bill glanced up. “I know the Romanies are strict, but Henry assured me there wouldn’t be any issues. If you can’t do the job—”

  “No, it’s not a problem.” Working at the café was turning out better than I’d expected, even if Mom insisted the Elders had made a mistake. She became furious when Uncle Henry said she had no say in the matter. He was the man of the house and in charge of making decisions. He even gave me the keys to the Jeep, despite Mom’s protests.

  “I need you to work until six today. If things go well, you can come back on Sunday.” He glanced at his watch and shuffled through a pile of paper. “Wendy will show you what to do. She’s out there serving the lunch crowd now. Why don’t you go help her?”

  I walked out of the office and reentered the main dining area, searching for another girl wearing an apron like mine.

  A petite Asian girl with short black hair strolled out of the kitchen, wearing a black apron, and carrying an apple pie. She had the cutest pixie hairstyle and wore bright red lipstick. “You must be the new girl. I’m Wendy Li.”

  “Hi, I’m Sienna,” I replied. “Bill said you’d show me what to do.”

  “Have you waitressed before?” She placed the pie in a glass container on the counter.

  “No, but I’m a quick learner.”

  “Well, memorize the menu, and put all the tips in the jar. We’ll split the money at the end of our shift. And, please don’t be like the other waitress, Jenny. She’s always flirting with the customers.”

  “That won’t be a problem.” I had no intention of doing anything that might make the Elders change their mind about me working at the café. Plus, Mom had told me there was a no-dating rule, unless Uncle Henry approved of the boy and his family. “Where’s Jenny?”

  “She called in sick this morning. Why don’t you clean the tables, and follow me around until you’re ready to be on your own?” Wendy handed me an empty bus bin and a damp rag.

  I walked to the nearest empty table and put the dirty dishes into the bus bin. After wiping the table, I moved on to other tables, and then carried the bus bin into the kitchen.

  “You can leave the bin over there.” The cook pointed to a counter, next to large double sinks.

  Wendy entered the kitchen and grabbed two plates with burgers. “Sienna, grab those milkshakes and follow me.”

  I grabbed the two chocolate milkshakes from the counter and followed her to a table. For the next hour, I paid attention to everything she did and helped where I could. The customers loved Wendy, so I wasn’t surprised to see the tip jar stuffed with money when everyone had gone.

  “I haven’t seen you at Woodlake High School.” Wendy sat on one of the front barstools. “Have you graduated already?”

  “Yes.” I cringed at my first lie. “Did you grow up in Woodlake?”

  “No way. I’m from California.” Wendy pulled a paperback out of her apron pocket and set it on the counter. “My mom married the town sheriff last year, so I’m stuck here until June. Luckily, the curriculum here is different. I only need two classes to graduate. That’s why I work at the café whenever I can. I need the money for college.”

  I glanced at Wendy’s book. “You like to read?”

  “I read all the time, mainly romance books.” Wendy smiled. “I’m almost done if you want to borrow it.”

  “Dishes are done!” the cook yelled from the kitchen.

  “That’s our cue.” Wendy got off the barstool and walked into the kitchen, with me following close behind. “It’s our responsibility to put away the dishes, and when things aren’t busy, you should help load the dishwasher. Bill likes everyone to pitch in.”

  I nodded and opened the dishwasher. Steam filled the air as I pulled the top rack out and stacked clean cups on the counter.

  “Are you going to college?” Wendy asked, grabbing clean plates from the dishwasher’s bottom rack.

  “I’m keeping my options open.” I grabbed more cups, immediately hating myself for lying. “What does everyone do for fun around here?”

  “Nothing, except hike, and fish. This town sucks. That’s why I can’t wait to leave,” she said. “Where do you live? Maybe we could hang out tomorrow and watch a movie at your house.”

  I bit my lower lip, not wanting to lie again. Earlier she’d asked where I lived and why we moved to Woodlake, but I’d quickly changed the subject. I couldn’t keep avoiding questions, and as Uncle Henry said, soon everyone would know my mom’s a Romani. “We’re on the outskirts of town.”

  “The outskirts of town?” One of her eyebrows shot up. “Are you talking about the Romani community?”

  “Yes. My mom’s a Romani.” I hoped Wendy didn’t have a problem with Romanies. “That’s why I’m in Woodlake. My dad died last year, and my mom has cancer. She wanted to
be around her family, so she packed up our stuff and moved us here.”

  She touched my hand. “I’m sorry about your dad dying and your mom being sick. My dad died when I was fourteen . . . it sucks.”

  I didn’t want to think about Dad right now. If I did, I’d end up in tears. “You’re okay with me being half-Romani?”

  “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” She closed the dishwasher. “But I didn’t think Romani girls graduated from high school?”

  “My mom raised me differently. I didn’t even know I was half-Romani until last week.” I sighed. “They expect me to follow their rules, including dropping out of school, and no dating.”

  “Wait . . . you haven’t graduated from high school?”

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry I lied. Uncle Henry said the locals might not be happy with me working here.”

  “He’s right,” she agreed. “I wouldn’t tell anyone else. Let them see how great you are and then it won’t matter.”

  I nodded, grateful she knew the truth. “He wants me to keep an eye out for the wolves. Do they come to the café looking for scraps?”

  “I haven’t seen any, but you can talk to Kaleb about them. He knows everything about the wolves.” Wendy stood in the kitchen doorway, keeping an eye on the main dining area.

  “Who’s Kaleb?”

  “He works on Norwood Isle.” She glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. “They should be here by now.”

  “Who should be here?”

  She dragged me to the café’s large bay window and pointed to a group of people outside, “The Norwood staff.”

  My breath caught. Four guys and two girls, who all looked like models from one of those fitness magazines, sat at the café’s outdoor seating area. They wore matching blue polo shirts and jeans, but something felt off. “They’re not wearing any jackets. It must be thirty degrees outside.”

  “Crazy, isn’t it?” Wendy grinned. “They’re immune to the cold. Must be all that muscle.”

  “They work on Norwood Isle?”

  She nodded. “I applied, but they’re picky about who works with the wolves.”