Page 50 of The Howl
“Sweetie? Is that you?” Mom called as I passed the door.
“Yeah, Mom.” I set the hamper to the side and looked in at her. She was eating yet another chocolate bar.
“Would you like to go out to dinner with me tonight? We can’t leave Uttira, though. So we’d need to find a restaurant here that makes a passable quality human food.”
“Sure, I’d love to have dinner with you.”
I’d do anything to get her to stop eating my chocolate and to get me out of the house.
However, four hours later, I was questioning my life choices as Mom sat next to me in the passenger seat of my car.
“For all I know, they’ve tainted your palate.” Mom shivered delicately.
Had I been a human man, the move would have brought about the instant need to comfort her. Instead, I rolled my eyes.
“That brownie lust emanating from your room had me heaving for thirty minutes. I don’t know how you could stand being in there with that creature.”
“He’s a friend of Megan’s,” I said yet again. “Not a midnight snack for me. I promise I don’t find the scent of his lust even slightly appealing. I’m just keeping him safe until Megan gets back.”
“You’re such a good friend. Now, recite the species list appropriate for feeding,” she said with a smile. “I need to know Adira hasn’t ruined you.”
“Humans are the most filling and diverse. Their flavors range from savory to sweet, depending on the person. We don’t know if it’s the personality or the genetic makeup, so sampling is the best way to know what you’re getting.”
Mom snorted.
“Who told you that last bit of bullshit?”
“Mom, please. There’s no need to swear. It’s unrefined.”
She grinned at me.
“You’re smart and beautiful. A perfect combination for a well-fed succubus. Now, who told you that last bit?”
“I don’t remember. It was in one of the sessions I’ve taken.”
“More reason to consider homeschooling. I don’t know where they get their information from, but it’s not entirely correct. We don’t need to sample. We can sense it. Smell it. Now, what other species are good.”
“Frost giants, obviously. Dwarves. Siren.”
I parked the car in front of one of Uttira’s few restaurants.
“Can we please be done with this subject? It’s rude to talk about other food when we’re here to eat human food.”
“Fine. Have it your way.”
She gracefully emerged from my car, all makeup and glitter, elevated by six-inch heels under her long, sheath skirt. Her gaze took in the small, dark building.
“This is the best Uttira has to offer?”
“You’re not in New York, Mom. You’re in backwoods Maine where the Council limits the food choices.”
She made a non-committal noise.
“Let’s give it a try, shall we?”
The moment we opened the door, I knew I was in trouble. Fenris’s unique, spice cake scent hit me hard before I even spotted him and his dad dining in the far corner.
Mom inhaled deeply.
