The Death Thief

Breakfast with a Wolf

"You should be careful with your allowance," he said, trotting over to where I sat before taking a seat on the stool next to me. "I know Hen's cooking is damn good, but you should give Spencer's kitchen a chance." He sighed as he settled in and ran one of his large, rough hands through his messy mane of brown hair.

"She's eating on me this morning Rett," said Hen, pouring him a cup of coffee without him needing to make the request. "What can I get you?"

"Biscuits with sausage gravy."

"Extra sausage on the side," said Hen with a coy smile.

"You know me," he replied with a wolfish grin.

I hunched and buried my hands in my lap as Hen walked away with a bit of a wiggle in her hips. She looked older than Everett, maybe by about five years, but that didn't mean there couldn't be some attraction there. I felt like I was the third wheel to a little moment I shouldn't have been in and I tried my best to look small so as not to disturb what was probably a flirtatious morning ritual.

"What's wrong? Just because I'm a werewolf doesn't mean I'm going to bite you." He watched me from the side of his eye while he sipped at his coffee. I sent a darting glance towards him, but blushed and turned away. I didn't rightfully know what was wrong with me. Yet for one reason or another, I felt a bit disheartened by the playful exchange.

I shook my head and took a breath. I was just tired. Plain and simple.

"I'm having trouble sleeping," I answered, reaching up and scooping a bit of yogurt out of my bowl. I wasn't particularly hungry anymore, but it felt odd having it sit there untouched.

"You've had kind of a rough start and this is a new life for you. It's understandable that you're going to have some trouble." He put his coffee down and turned to me with pity enlarging his dark brown eyes. I blushed and felt myself growing smaller in his powerful gaze. "Have you tried talking to the other Bodies yet? I know they all keep different schedules, but I think Will and Violet generally keep day time hours."

"I have met all of them, but it's not necessarily about trying to fit in here. That's never been a particular concern of mine." For a moment I recalled why I found myself in Whisper Valley in the first place. It had only been a few days prior, yet it seemed like a lifetime ago.

"I suppose not, seems you got along well enough in your first life. You certainly have plenty of people looking for you."

"What do you mean?" I straightened up and turned to him, ready for an answer. However, he chose to look at the way his coffee swirled around inside the mug instead of giving me one. After what felt like ten minutes, he cleared his throat and continued.

"News says they found your car on some back road not far from the interstate. Your family is asking for friends to help comb the woods for you, but it doesn't matter, they won't find you. The mages have spells in place to ward off anyone that isn't being called." Now he turned to look at me, appraising the slouch of my spine and the dampness of my eyes to assess how much that wounded me. All I could give him, though, was a pair of loosely parted lips and an empty gaze. I didn't know if it was worth telling him that my parents would be the ones truly disappointed. I doubted even my roommate would show to join the search party.

"There's something funny going on in this town," I said, sticking my spoon back into my yogurt and plucking out a juicy raspberry. "That's why I can't sleep."

"There's always something funny going on here. That's kind of the mission statement of the settlement." His voice lightened with each word, but I still caught the dark pity in his gaze. No matter how he shifted his weight or tilted his head, his heavy brow and soft eyes could not hide the honesty behind them.

"Is there always murder happening here?" I asked.

"Depends on how you define murder," he said, leaning back as Hen dropped off a steaming plate of biscuits and gravy as well as a small dish of sausage links. "Vampires have to essentially murder their feeder to convert them to a vampire. However, legally speaking, the act is consensual so as far as we're concerned..."

"You know I mean Calista." The words popped out of my mouth. Exhaustion and frustration lit a fire upon some kindling that I didn't know I had in me. I bit my lips in retaliation and shoved a spoonful of yogurt in to stop any other spiteful words from slipping out. I sent a hesitant glance over at Everett to see his reaction, but I only caught a flicker of a smile before he suppressed it with his own forkful of gravy.

"Leave that to Kyra and me. No need to worry yourself over this."

"Kyra doesn't even think it is a murder." I managed to slow the words down this time even though some heat bit at them.

"She never said that," he said, putting down his fork and giving me a hard gaze. "We just can't go around holding anyone when we have no proof of murder. Which is very hard to get with a zombie."

"Well," I said, swirling my spoon around, letting the tension course through my arm and into the pinkening yogurt, "I may not have proof, but I have a lot of motives. I've got suspects everywhere and it's driving me crazy. I feel like the answer is sitting there in front of me, but I can't pin it down." Then, my hand froze. I dropped my spoon and turned to Everett with wide eyes and pinched lips. "That's what I need. I need one of those pin boards where you draw connections to people with red string."

"We don't have one of those," he said with a warm laugh and an appraising smile that brought some heat to my cheeks. "But, I suppose we do have a whiteboard." He sighed and looked down at his plate which had only been halfway cleared. Then he looked to me and I had nothing to give him except a nervous pinch of my lips, a fiery red upon my cheeks and a pathetic pleading in my eyes. With another sigh, he turned towards the counter and waved our hostess over.

"Hen, can you box this up and throw in one of your danishes? I'm taking breakfast to go."