by Rae Foxx
If I had to be awake at this time of the morning, then so did the twins.
“If you like the spanking thing, we can try it later. But shit, woman, it’s the buttcrack of dawn. Leave my ass alone and go back to sleep.” I wasn't sure which twin had spoken; their voice was too muffled by the pillow they had faced-planted themselves into. They were twins alright; they even slept the same.
"You know you like it," I teased, leaning over to smack their asses again. "Now, get your asscrack out of bed before I dawn it."
"That doesn't even make any sense, kitten," Evan grumbled rolling away and stealing all of Owen's blanket.
I just laughed and turned, throwing on clothes and Converse before making my way down the rusty ass steps from hell in search of coffee.
I had expected the shop to be closed and to have to bungle around the ancient tea set on my own. But no, the lights were on, tea was already brewed, and my aunt was leaning against the counter top in all her glory: bangles, shawls, and a cloud of skunk around her.
If I didn't know for a fact that my aunt was a fox shifter I would have been seriously thinking otherwise.
“Speak of the devil and here she is," my aunt beamed, turning away from the curvy woman with a huge basket of flowers hanging from her arm. I was surprised she didn't fall over given the height of the leopard heels she was wearing. "Iris, this is my goddess of a niece, Scarlet."
The beautiful woman beamed, full lips pulling up as she inclined her head toward me.
“You are lovely, Roja. It is very nice to meet you.” Her accent was as beautiful as she was. The rich Hispanic tones were like a song in my ears, especially after a sleepless night full of wolf howls. The woman pulled her thick, black hair over one shoulder, revealing a streak of white near her ear and flashed me a smile that seemed like the most sincere thing I’d encountered since arriving in Cummings Cove. There was a slight blush on her otherwise glowing face as she handed me an Iris of all things.
"Scarlet, Iris is a good friend of mine, she owns the Perky Petal. It seems she isn't the only one who didn't sleep last night for fear of being attacked." Poetry gave me a sly smile and I jumped out of my skin.
"Huh?" I sputtered. Poetry didn't seem bothered by my sudden panic, she just smiled, laughed and passed me a full mug of tea.
Tea again. Not that I minded it, but after last night I needed coffee running in my veins. Didn't look like that was going to happen any time soon.
"Well, I wasn't attacked—" Iris began, but Poetry waved her off.
"I would still be wary, I saw quite clearly in a dream some moons ago... white fur, sharp teeth," Poetry's tone had completely changed, although that might be from the clang of her bangles as she shook her arms like some kind of prophet. Her eyes dug into me with as much intensity as the wolf’s and I shivered. Thankfully then she turned her focus on Iris. "Although, your screams were geared toward something darker..."
"Yes, well, today I just need to protect my chickens," Iris said with a roll of her eyes, as though she had heard my aunt and all her rambling before.
"Chickens?" I asked, pulling both women's focus.
"Yes, I am sure you heard the disturbances last night," Poetry continued, her voice hitting an even lower octave as her eyes tried to see into my soul. Creepy. I barely restrained the shiver.
A shiver from the memory of the exact disturbances she was talking about... and what had created them.
"Disturbances?" It was a miracle my voice didn't shake.
Iris put her basket on the floor and cupped her mouth with both hands before giving a howl at the top of her lungs, sounding nothing like the wolf from last night. It still scared the crap out of the twins, who burst through the doors ready to attack whatever was down here.
“I can’t believe you didn’t hear it. The howling. It was so loud last night. I swore that thing was right outside my window.” Iris' hand was over her heart as though remembering the sound was enough to give her palpitations.
I nodded, still shivering in panic. I wasn't sure I wanted to admit if I’d heard or seen the culprit, so I decided to play dumb.
“I did hear some howling. I thought maybe it was someone from town. Are there no wolf shifters here? I figured it was a normal thing.” The two women just blinked at me, "I guess I will take that as a no."
"We have never had a wolf here," Poetry began, that airy voice from before having been replaced by her usual alto. "I have dreamed of them many times, but never seen them. Well, not unless—"
Poetry stopped, her eyes wide as she stared at Iris, who shook her head no. Even the twins exchanged a look of confusion.
"Not unless what?" I prodded, but they continued to shake their heads.
"I haven't seen a wolf in my ten years of living here," Iris announced, clearly trying to backpedal from whatever my aunt had been about to say. "We have some predators, such as yourself, but never a wolf. I swear to Dios, I didn’t get a wink of sleep. It was as though I was being hunted.”
"Hunted? Like what my aunt said? Like the bounties?" I watched their reactions in fear of confirming the dread that had wrapped its way around my spine. The reaction I got was much worse.
Poetry dropped her mug, china clattering through the silent store as it shattered and sent a stain of grey over the counter.
"Bounties are banned here. This place is a sanctuary," Poetry said, all airy and prophetic again. "The citizens of Cummings Cove have nothing to hide. Besides, I do not feel a Bounty in our midst, and I would know. I always do."
Iris nodded enthusiastically, gathering up the few flowers that had floated from her basket in her own panic. I hadn't even noticed, what with the sound of breaking glass.
"But what are—"
"My chickens, Poetry," Iris interrupted, pulling my aunt’s focus as she put a few bills on the counter. "One of them was headless the other morning. Headless, my poor pollito. If that howling creature chooses to stay I must keep him away. I need a powerful protective ward for my chicken coop. I can’t have anything messing with my babies. Can you do that, Poetry? I know you can. I will be by after lunch to pick it up. You are the best.”
Iris spoke so fast that none of us, not even Iris got a breath in. Everything was so beautifully tethered together as she rambled in her panic that they could have been one long word for all I knew. She didn't even wait for a response before she turned on her heel and sashayed out of the place, yelling at someone down the street and leaving me staring at my aunt in disbelief.
"A ward?" I asked, Owen and Evan already whispering about the same thing as they continued to browse the candles, more than one of them scented like body parts. "Isn't that kind of a witch thing?"
"The only thing that belongs to witches is hate, sarcasm, and an interest in destroying souls," Poetry spat, pocketing the money before pulling out an old stone mortar and pestle that I could have sworn was carved with runes. Very much a witch thing.
Given the almighty scowl she was giving it, I would say that all her hate was based on personal experience. I would have to tell her someday that I agreed with her, but right now she seemed liable to bite my head off.
"Bastards feast on hearts and should be ripped from the earth..." Poetry muttered to herself, pulling a tattered notebook out from under the cash register. Inside were hand-written scribblings with flourishes along the edges. I had seen her handwriting in the stock registry enough over the past week to know that that handwriting was not hers. “A dream with white fur, and a white moon. Seems prophetic. The blood of the chicken could be fertility. But for children, or for futures. The blood of a predator would mean more danger, so thanks for that... I wonder what color the wolf was. White could mean death and if its blood was spilt then utter destruction could be waiting..."
"Utter destruction?" I asked, trying to make heads or tails of the ramble that was bleeding through the air from across the counter. She didn't pay me any attention. She just continued to ramble, pointing at the notebook while I poured myself a second cup of t
ea, hoping it was hyper-stocked on the caffeine. It smelled like flowers and licorice... like the wolf had last night...
"Damn it! I'm missing something!" Poetry howled, slamming her palm on the counter and making me jump.
"Where's the bomb?!" Evan yelled from across the store, where he and Owen had collapsed into one of the oversized poufs that littered the store. Of course, the two of them had fallen back to sleep.
"Scarlet, my dear, I need you to run an errand.” While she spoke she tapped her chin with her finger, seemingly oblivious to the fact that my heart was on a rampage inside of me due to her outburst. “Oh, this is fun not to have to flitter about town now that I have you."
"Thanks?" I guess. With all the stocking and walking she was going to have me do I was going to have the ass of the gods. Who needs squats when you have boxes of lube to stock and errands to run?
"Go to the butcher’s and get some fresh pig’s blood," she began, jotting something down on a piece of paper while my stomach began to tango.
“Pig’s blood?” I asked, sure I had misheard her. She just nodded and continued to write in her book.
Pig’s blood. Figured. First she sends me to the post office for lube and now she’s sending me to the butcher’s to request pig’s blood. Fresh pig’s blood.
These townies were going to think I was sacrificing myself or performing rituals to satisfy the sex gods or some shit at this rate. Little did they know that my own sex-god-twins were never satisfied.
I would take this over lube, though. The thought of fresh pig’s blood had my fox in a tizzy. It had been a while since I had feasted on raw meat. Maybe I would grab something for myself, too. "Make sure you tell Kent that I need it fresh. Make sure. The last time he tried to pawn off some week old blood on me and I almost put a curse on him.” She laughed but the sound made me shudder. The dark hazy tone was more cunning or sinister, like she actually had put curses on people before and could again. “No, no, I would never invite revenge on my house. Only white light and cleansing energy may reside in this place. Go, go!”
I looked behind me, sure that the last part had been meant for someone else. But no, it was just us. Well, me and two twins who had woken up from their cat nap and were back to scouring the shelves for toys. This time it was a pack of cards that they were poking at like they were hoping they moved.
“You two want to join me?” I asked, coming around the corner and lamenting my lack of strong tea, or caffeine, or anything to wake my tired ass up.
“Nah, we’re having fun. These things are a fucking trip,” Owen pulled out more cards, laying them on the table between them. Death, the inverted Sun. I didn't know much about Tarot, but I recognized them, and they clearly weren't being used the right way. Evan was holding the devil up to Owen's naked mermaid. They were about to makeout, apparently, but the devil dude was hoping for so much more.
“Hey, how do mermaids fuck? They have a tail blocking their…”
I whirled around and left before I heard the answer.
I was mated to frat boys.
12
"How in the world can you claim not to be a witch but demand pig’s blood to make a spell?"
Yes, I was talking to myself, but it's not like I could ruin my reputation in this town anymore. At least this time I knew where I was going. I had met the butcher before. Or rather I had run into him right before he apologized to a mailbox for running into it.
On second thought, maybe talking to myself wasn't too bad.
I crossed the street and stopped to look into Sip at Cummings, the old grey-haired man twitching and bustling between customers like he had an electric tire iron up his ass. I remembered him from before, he had closed his shop at the sight of me. Looking at him now he seemed to always be that twitchy and neurotic. He flipped from cranky table to cranky table so fast I couldn't figure out why they were so upset. Then I saw the menu.
Juice.
It was a juice bar and everything seemed to include carrots and some kind of 'pearl algae'. No wonder they were angry. I would be too if I was willingly choosing to eat carrots and algae. The place was wall-to-wall orange and everything gleamed like the place had been built the day before. I waved at the man inside but he yelped and hopped behind the counter and ducked, popping out every few seconds to see if I was still there.
I needed no other confirmation of what he was. Twitchy, jumpy, big teeth and obsessed with carrots.
A rabbit.
"Yum." I said aloud, the rabbit turning its head and jumping again when he caught me licking my lips.
Damn. I was hungrier than I thought, probably good my next stop was next door.
"Kent's Cuts." I read the writing on the door aloud, except that's not what I said. 'Kent's Cunts' is what came out.
"Kent's Cunts," I tried again, no go. My brain did not like those two together. "Oh, Owen, how you would love this," I snickered to myself. He really should have come with me for this little excursion.
A blast of cold air hit me as I swung the door open. The old school bell that was attached to the frame tinkled loudly through the tiled shop. I blinked twice as the door closed, allowing my eyes to adjust to the bright room. White tile stretched floor to ceiling, the counter windows and doors all accented with shiny metal that looked as though it had been polished recently. The entire room was glass, tile, and metal, and smelled of disinfectant. At least that was the first scent I caught. The door had barely shut before I was enclosed in a much more wondrous and aromatic bath.
Meat.
All the meat.
I couldn't even see the meat and I knew this place was a predator’s foodie fantasy. I felt like a caveman, wanting to hit the ground with my club and demand more meat. If someone didn't appear soon I might just take matters into my own hands.
"Hello?" I called into the silence, my voice swirling the meat smell into wafts of deliciousness that sent me into a bigger frenzy. My fox growled and pawed at my skin, the poor girl thrashing and snarling in a need to sink her fangs into whatever was hiding behind the metal door behind the counter.
"Down girl. I'll get you food. Don't worry." I whispered to myself, taking two steps to the counter and the second bell which I hit a bit harder than I had planned. The single tone rang out in a hollow ping that was echoed by the growling in my belly. "Hello?"
Still no answer. The place seemed to be a ghost town. Or a ghost shop.
“Hello, Kent?" I said louder, trying not to snicker as I added a whispered 'cunt' to myself. "My aunt sent me to collect pig’s blood." I continued to lift my voice as I tiptoed around the room, bringing myself closer and closer to the door that was as still and silent as the rest of this place.
"My aunt is Poetry; you might have heard of her... She said to get the fresh stuff this time so she wouldn't have to curse you like last time." I half expected him to bust through the door to defend the honor of his fresh pig’s blood, but it was just my voice as it echoed off the stark white ceiling and floor. It jingled the shelves of meat-prepping products and seasonings all in glass jars like the butcher made them himself.
"So, you know, if I could get some fresh pig’s blood that would be great!" My throat was burning from yelling, my stomach throbbing from the smell of blood that was driving me mad enough that I was one step away from breaking the chilly glass of the display cases. Ground beef, ribeye’s, pork chops, chicken thighs, they were all there. Waiting to be devoured.
I could practically hear them call to me: ‘Eat me, I’m delicious.' At the end of the case were whole, skinned rabbits and my inner fox wanted to punch through the glass and grab one up.
Rabbits were a fox’s delight.
It was probably good that the boys didn't come with me. They would go buck wild in this place and spend all of the money we had left. Well, they would if anyone was here to help me.
"Seriously! Is anybody here?" Fuck, did this guy just leave his business unmanned? I called out again and heard nothing. Maybe he went to lunch or some shit, but why
leave the door open?
I tried the bell again, hitting the silver bubble multiple times in an attempt to get someone's attention.
"Kent? I’m here for blood!" Shit, that sounded bad. "I mean, not your blood. That would be gross. I need pig’s blood. I don’t know if it comes by the cup or the bucket or...shit. Kent!”
I banged a few more times on the bell but still, no one came. There was just a muffled noise from the other side of the old door, like rubber grinding or fabric pulling. Okay, so he was here, I guess I would have to take matters into my own hands. Screw the blood, at this point I just needed something to eat.
"Either that or I'll just take some and come back later, but first I have to find the cunt," I snickered to myself and walked around the counter, hell bent on busting through the door to the backroom to find Kent, the cunt.
Instead, I slipped and fell on my ass.
"What the hell?!" I shrieked loud enough that I had expected Kent to come busting my way, but no, it was still just me, sitting in a puddle of slime.
A trail of neon green slime slid in a line over the floor from the register to the door, and now was smeared all over my ass. Who the fuck has green slime on the floor in a butcher’s shop? It looked like a green road of lime-flavored Jell-O and I almost gagged at the sight of it.
What was he doing, reselling moldy meat as ground chuck? Making nuggets out of green slime instead of pink? No wonder he wasn't answering. I was going to get to the bottom of this.
I pushed past the clear plastic sheeting, shivering as the new level of cold hit me in the face and attempted to chill my eyebrows. Damp, sweating plastic slapped against my skin as I slid into the large frozen backroom, fog flooding my vision as hot and cold air mixed around me.
