Kingdom Of Claws: Book 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I’ll Show You Mine, If You Show Me Yours.

“Have you ever had that feeling something big was coming your way, huge and unstoppable, but you didn’t know if it was good or bad? Like a built-in radar trying to prepare you for the unexpected, but you don’t know how to prepare. No? So, just me then? Fantastic. Good to know.” ~Lola

Guy Number One smirked, Number Two grinned, Number Three winked at her, Number Four simply raised an eyebrow, and Number Five… Well, she didn’t know how to describe his expression. She met his shining, gray eyes, and they swirled like liquid silver. Lola kept herself from gasping, but looked away in a hurry. With a shaky hand, she pulled her order pad and pen from the pocket of her apron. It was when she encountered guys at this level of attractiveness, she felt the most conscious of her appearance. Which really annoyed the crap out of her.

“Good after-” Wow, why is my voice so high? Lola cleared her throat and began again. “Good afternoon.” Argh, now why is it so low? I don’t talk like that. She wanted to crawl under one of the tables and disappear until the men left. “What can I get you…” Lola swallowed thickly, and she knew her face must be showing the most hideous of grimaces. “...gentlemen today?” And no, I’m not on the menu, but the menu is completely adjustable based on the needs of the customer. Holy crab apples, did I just think that? I have lost my ever-loving mind.

A faint chuckle resonated, prompting Lola to lift her eyes back to the men. The chuckle came from Guy Number One, the smirker. “We’re far from gentlemen, Little One.” He glanced to Sal as he said the words and then back to Lola. His grin stretched wider, drawing Lola’s gaze to his canine teeth. Again, she had to stifle a gasp. The man’s canines were remarkably different from any she’d seen before. Sharpened to a fine point, they were twice the normal size. Lola blinked, trying to dismiss what she saw as a mere trick of the light. Maybe they’re dental implants? People do all kinds of weird things to their body. Fake, pointy teeth are surely among them. Yes, implants, she convinced herself. When she reopened her eyes, his lips were sealed, though his playful smile remained. See? There’s nothing to worry about. Despite her reassuring words, a sense of unease flooded Lola, sending a shiver down her spine.

“Are you alright?” Lola’s attention shifted to Guy Number Three. A deep dimple peeked from his right cheek as he spoke and his blue eyes narrowed on her. “You seem a bit spooked. Wyatt didn’t mean any harm.” He gestured toward Guy Number One with a nod. “He’s a flirt, though not a very adept one.”

“You just wish you were as skilled with the females as I am,” Wyatt retorted, tossing a rolled-up straw paper at his friend.

Lola attempted to smile, but judging by their concerned expressions, she probably looked more like she was trying to pass a kidney stone. “I’m fine. I just thought I saw–” She started to point toward Guy Number One’s face, then hesitated. It might come across as impolite to draw attention to his teeth. “I thought I saw someone I recognized.” She gestured in Wyatt’s general direction instead.

“Rest assured, if we had met before, you wouldn’t have forgotten me.” Wyatt’s words held a suggestive undertone.

“Seems like you’re not as successful with the females as you think if they forget you so easily.” Guy Number Three chuckled, making the dimple even more prominent.

Lola found it peculiar that they referred to women as, “females,” rather than ladies, women, or even chicks, which were the terms usually uttered by her customers. ‘Female’ seemed unnatural in discussions involving attraction or desire, more fitting for medical contexts… or possessive, alpha werewolves. The hero of Lola’s latest paranormal-romance novel flitted through her mind.

“I’m sure he does just fine with the, uh, women. They probably find him quite memorable. Not that I would know… or care,” she finished lamely. Lola silently scolded herself to keep quiet, but her mouth had a mind of its own, particularly when nerves took over. “I mean, I’m certainly not one he’s had any involvement with or anything…” She shook her head as her tongue tied itself into knots. “I… uh… haven’t been one of the… uh… females he’s been…” She cleared her throat. “...fine with or anything. Goodness.” Their low chuckles were growing louder. “What would you gentlemen like to eat?” she blurted out. “Um, food, please. What can I get you?”

“Meat. Rare. But I’m sure you all don’t have that here.” It was Guy Number Two who spoke.

Lola looked up from her pad. He was completely serious. What a weird thing to say. We’re a pizza joint, not a steakhouse. “Um, no, I’m afraid not.” A five o’clock shadow and eyes framed by dark eyelashes gave him an air of danger. His firm jaw clenched when Lola met his eyes. They flashed, the pupils becoming as tiny as pin-pricks. People do not have pupils that small. At least, not any humans that she’d ever seen. Are there any other kinds of people other than humans? No. No, there are not, she answered her own question. But how cool would that be? Lola also noticed the shape of his eyes almost seemed to change and become more pinched in the outer and inner corners. They reminded her of the shape of her cat's eyes. Tilting his head, the light landed in his eyes reminding her of Dog’s eyes and the luminescent quality they processed.

“Do you wear contacts?” Lola blurted out, unable to contain her curiosity. Though she felt uneasy in the presence of these five, stunningly attractive men, her inquisitiveness still got the better of her. Even when her instincts were screaming at her to shut the heck up. One day her insatiable curiosity would land her in trouble. Or, as Katy put it, ‘It’s going to get your cute little mug put on a poster in a grocery store.’ “Is that your way of subtly telling me you like my eyes?” The man shifted in his seat to fully face her.

“No.” Lola shook her head. “If I liked your eyes, I’d say, ‘Hey, I like your eyes.’ I mean, they’re not ugly or anything. But I don’t particularly like them.”

“Ouch.” One of the other men muttered, though she didn’t know which one.

“But you have tiny pupils, and your eyes kind of glow. Since I’ve never seen someone with such small pupils, or glowing eyes, I can only assume that you must be wearing contacts.”

His eyebrow quirked. “If you’ve already figured out that I wear contacts, why ask?”

Lola shrugged. “When a person has a hypothesis, the only way to prove it for certain is to get confirmation.”

“Rafe,” Wyatt said in a low voice, sounding very much like a warning of some kind, as the other guy leaned closer to her.

“You’re hypothesizing about me?” His voice was almost a purr as he spoke. “Is that a smart girl’s way of flirting? Or were you also flirting with Wyatt when you thought you remembered him?”

Lola lifted her chin and straightened back up. She hadn’t even realized she’d been leaning toward Rafe, A.K.A., Pupil Guy. “I’m not flirting with anyone. He has weird teeth and you have weird eyes. It’s weird.”

“You think my teeth are weird?” Wyatt ran his tongue across the aforementioned pointy teeth and winked. The dude seriously winked. He was taunting her. And, dammit, she liked it. No, I don’t. I need to do my job, and I seriously gotta get out more and socialize. Like with real guys. Not my boss’s skeezy son or five random dudes who looked like they stepped off the cover of a magazine.

“Well, I also think his eyes are weird.” She motioned to Rafe as if that would somehow soften the blow of insulting the first one’s teeth.

“You said that already,” Guy Number Four muttered.

She looked at him. Looking away disinterestedly, he turned his head to gaze out over the room. The motion gave her a glimpse of a tattoo on his neck of a black panther. As Lola started to look away, she swore she saw the panther’s tail twitching lazily, much like Dog’s often did when he was sunning himself on the windowsill.

What the heck? I must not be getting enough sleep. “So, how about some pizza? You know, instead of rare meat?” Lola spoke quickly, knowing that if she didn’t change the subject, she might ask the man about his tattoo and tell him she saw it move. These guys already thought she was a brick shy of a load. No sense in embarrassing herself further. “I mean, you can get the No Name Meat Explosion. That’s our version of the meat lovers. It has meat. If meat is your thing, which you said it is. It’s all cooked though, the meat.” You can stop saying the word, ‘meat,’ any minute now.

Guy Number Three opened his mouth, but Number Five cut him off by thrusting the menus back at her. “We’ll have—” As he spoke, his swirling, silver eyes met hers. Wanting to, yet again, point out this new physical oddity, Lola forced herself to continue to hold his gaze and keep her mouth shut. Who was she to speak of oddities when she had blotchy skin?

“Two of the large meat… explosions,” Wyatt finished for Guy Number Five and took the menus.

Lola pulled her gaze from the silver eyes and glanced down to take the menus. She noticed a tattoo on the back of Wyatt’s hand. It was a similar picture on Number Four’s neck—a large, black cat, a panther, lazily draped across a tree branch. The detail was incredible. It looked three dimensional, as if the animal could just walk right off of his hand. “Nice tattoo. Are you all in some sort of club? Is that why the matching tattoos?” She motioned between Number Four and One.

He frowned at her. “What tattoos?”

She looked back at his hand, and the cat was gone. Then she looked at Four’s neck. His tattoo had vanished as well. What the hell? Lola knew she’d seen a tattoo on both of them. Her eyes roamed around the table, as if she could somehow find the missing tattoos under a napkin.

“Now Rafe is messing with you.” Wyatt gave her a charming smile. “He actually has a ton of tattoos. Though,” he leaned forward and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “I don’t think it’d be appropriate for him to show you those. Although, I’m sure he’d be happy to follow the, ‘I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours,’ rule.”

Lola’s brow rose as a barrage of questions filled her mind. How many is a ton? Wouldn’t that hurt like hell? Does the person doing the tattooing ever get embarrassed or feel uncomfortable about putting ink on places where the sun doesn’t shine? Do you really find me attractive enough for you to want to see ‘mine,’ or are you just messing with me? She ignored that last silent question because it made her feel insecure, a feeling which she loathed, and thankfully the only question she managed was, “Don’t they hurt?”

“Tattoos?” Wyatt asked.

She nodded. “In certain locations.” Against her will– totally against her will– Lola’s eyes flitted up and down Rafe’s body.

“I’m guessing by your questions, you don’t have one.” Rafe’s eyes mimicked hers, running up and down her form. “Are you thinking about getting one?”

His voice was a rumble, broody and serious. He seemed a bit more intense than the other four at the table.

“I’ve never really thought about it.” Lie. She’d totally thought about it. Plenty of them were beautiful or interesting, and some were downright ridiculous. Tattoos were a way of embracing her skin and the beauty her friends were able to see in her despite her vitiligo.

“You should think about it,” Wyatt said. “There’s a place called Wild Ink. They do the best work in the city. If you get one, you should go there.”

“You’d look hot with a tattoo.” Rafe’s eyes trailed up her body. Starting at her combat boots, moving over her skinny jeans, and past the apron to her shirt that had, ‘NNP or Bust,’ in bold letters across the front. His lips quirked up. “I’ll take the bust, please.” There was a thud under the table and Rafe snarled like legit snarled— with a raised lip and everything. His head whipped around to look at Guy Number Five. “It was a joke. Damn, Roan. Get a sense of humor already.”

Lola rolled her eyes. “You need new material. I’ve heard that joke a million times since Sal got these shirts.”

“What joke?” Maddie practically slid up next to her. Ridiculously graceful, floating about with her long, willowy legs, she should have been a ballerina, not a pizza waitress.

“The shirt,” Lola said dryly.

“The shirt is the shit.” Katy walked up on Lola’s other side. “Are these weirdos giving you trouble?”

Lola cut her eyes at her protective friend. It was sweet in its own way. Katy was ridiculously protective of Lola because it was common practice for assholes– and bitches for that matter– to make comments about her vitiligo. Her confrontational BFF did not take kindly to it. Despite Lola’s continued insistence that she could handle all the As and Bs herself, Katy still felt the need to ride to her rescue anytime she thought someone was treating Lola with anything less than respect. Or maybe Katy enjoyed putting assholes and bitches in their place.

“Is ‘weird’ the Word of the Day?” Wyatt asked.

Katy looked at him. “Weird?”

“Here we go,” Maddie muttered.

“They’ve got to learn sometime,” Lola said softly. “Especially if they become regulars.”

“If you watch a children’s show about big, yellow birds and garbage can-dwelling puppets while you eat your Fruit Loops in the morning, then yes, ‘weird’ might be your Word of the Day. Brought to you by the letters, ‘I’m an i***t,’ and the number, ‘one jackass.’” Katy leaned a shoulder against Lola and folded her arms across her chest. “My Word of the Day is paronomasia. I would never be so basic as to pick ‘weird’ as a Word of the Day. Only an imbecile with no linguistic skills whatsoever would do something so ridiculous.”

“Can I marry you?” Guy Number Three smiled, his deep dimple flashing at Katy.

Lola glanced at her friend and saw Katy’s trademark smirk. “Do you know what paronomasia means?”

“I have the internet.” He held up his phone.

Katy glanced at Lola. “You’ve been over here for ten minutes talking to them?”

Lola nodded. “Guilty.”

Katy looked back at the guys. Their eyes bounced from Maddie, to Lola, to Katy, and then back again.

“They’re hot,” Maddie said without an ounce of embarrassment.

“They are hot.” Rather than indicating any attraction to them, the tone of Katy’s voice made it sound like they were a clue to a mystery she was trying to solve. She pointed at Guy Number Four. “What’s your name?”

“Kian.”

“That’s Wyatt, Rafe, and Roan.” Lola pointed at each of them.

“You don’t say?” Katy asked, her voice taking on the mischievous purr it did anytime she was about to make a point.

“Dammit,” Lola bit out through clenched teeth at the same time Katy spoke.

“And you?” She pointed at Guy Number Three with the dimple.

Please be a Keith, or Bob, or⁠—

“Drystan, and I’m still waiting for my answer.”

Katy held up a finger. “Yeah, be right with you.” She turned to Lola, but Lola refused to look at her best friend.

“Wyatt.” Katy held up a finger in front of her face. “Rafe.” Another finger joined the first. “Roan.” A third finger. “Kian.” A fourth. “Aaaaand Drystan. Do you see a theme, here Lo-lo?”

“They all have hot-as-hell names?” Maddie said, nearly making Lola jump because she’d forgotten she was there.

“Exactly.” Katy pointed at their other BFF. “Hot-as-hell names. You know who else has hot-as-hell names?”

“Katy Dire.” Lola turned and glared at her. “I will make you unable to boob-feed for the rest of your life if you say another word.”

“How have we never been here before?” Lola heard a deep voice that she was pretty sure was Wyatt’s.

“Because we didn’t know how hot the waitresses were,” another voice offered.

“They’d be hotter with tattoos.” That voice was Roan’s. Lola knew it because the statement was uttered without any inflection or feeling, as if he was simply pointing out a cloud in the sky.

“I’ll tell you who has names like that. Book boy—” Lola shoved her order pad so hard into Katy’s stomach that it knocked the wind from her lungs, and a gasp of air whistled out.

“Oh, snap.” Lola pasted on a smile and a fake cheery voice. “I think my friend here is getting sick. I better help her to the back. Your pizzas will be right out. Thank you and have a great day.”

Katy tried to suck in air. For a second, Lola wondered if maybe she’d gotten a little carried away. But then she remembered her BFF was about to reveal her obsession with paranormal-romance novels. And she was about to tell those guys that all their names sounded like the names of the characters in the books she r******w that she thought about it, their names were kind of hilarious. Maybe later, if Katy didn’t kill her, they could laugh about it. The glare Katy shot her as she helped her to the back made Lola think it would be a few days— Maybe a few weeks— before that would happen.

For the rest of their shift, Katy gave Lola the stink eye and only spoke to her if she absolutely had to. Lola was definitely going to have to watch her back, or her front, for the foreseeable future.