HORNS (BoyXBoy)

Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

The kids were hungry, grumpy, and restless.

Or maybe that was just me projecting on them.

At this point, I couldn't tell.

The diner wasn't very large but it had a homey feel that made it oh so much better than a stop at one of the many chains along the same road. Cracker Barrel had real food and smelled like actual meats and ingredients--unlike many restaurants I'd visited outside of Moonies, which was the undercover werewolf-oriented restaurant chain that catered to our particular needs.

I likely wouldn't ever set foot in a fast-food stop with some of the things I'd smelled, but here? Yeah... here was good the moment I walked in.

The whole building gave off an old-fashioned vibe, one that went back farther than early two thousands retro stuff. There were synthetic wooden tables, well-cushioned private booths, glass-covered candles on every surface, three fireplaces, and the overall vibe was more suited for a wooden cabin with the warm browns and stone masonry and decorative photos and historical nick-knacks. Best of all, the lights were dim and very nature-like.

I was most grateful for that.

I hated those blinking fluorescent obscenities that always seemed to be on the fritz. They hurt my eyes since werewolves were nocturnal creatures with extreme night vision. The food smelled amazing all the way from the front door, and there was coffee that didn't smell burnt.

"All right, Babes," I said, smiling to try and lighten their moods. "Where do you wanna sit?"

"We can pick?" Kimberly excitedly asked, and Adam perked right up. "Really?"

I looked at the receptionist, a young ivory-skinned woman with short, dyed blonde hair streaked through with blue. She smiled at us from behind the people she was already taking care of and gave me an inconspicuous thumbs up, nodding with her head to go back on my own.

'Go ahead,' she mouthed, 'we'll get with you shortly.'

"Yep, go choose a spot!" I said to the kids, following them in; I mouthed a quick, 'thank you!' back to the woman, who winked at me. It wasn't very often that a higher-end restaurant like this allowed people to choose their table, but I guess she could see that I was seriously stressed.

I let Kimberly and Adam pick the seat without complaint.

We ended up at one of the closed-off private booths by the front windows of the diner, which to my surprise weren't broken, although there were some serious cracks on a few of the panes. It gave the kids a good view of the world and the street. I knew from experience that the Masons usually picked spots like that simply because their kids liked to see everything going on.

I held Rosie in my lap, bouncing her since she seemed unhappy, looking around with wide smoldering amber eyes, whining now and then with her thumb in her mouth. I knew why, of course... Kim and Adam had been the same way when they'd been her age.

It was because of all the unfamiliar smells surrounding her: she was nervous on instinct.

Almost all werewolves felt an instinctive discomfort on being in unfamiliar territory. We communicated through scent just as much as we did through body language and words, so being around a bunch of overpowering smells from strange people wasn't exactly fun.

Especially when it came to human strangers.

Werewolves had physical differences in their bodies that allowed bodily odors and even sweat to smell like ambrosia, which to put it mildly was a naturally pleasant and calming fragrance. It was really weird, but there were weirder aspects to werewolf culture and behavior as a result. I thought of Aerin and Sebastian, and how they had a habit of staying close together to make sure their scents were intermingled so everyone they met would know they were together.