The Taste of Home

Chapter 36

The physical evidence of the vandalism was long gone, yet much of the damage remained. It lingered in the tension that stiffened Miguel's spines every day Alejandro drove them to work, wondering what they might find waiting for them. It lingered in the way Ralph and Yolanda no longer bickered, too preoccupied to take playful jabs at each other lest stress sharpen their words.

Worst of all, it lingered in the silence that swallowed the restaurant after any loud or sudden noise. Something as simple as a fork hitting the floor sent all eyes to the source of the sound, with a collective sigh rippling through the restaurant once everyone realized nothing was amiss.

Near the end of the evening, Miguel had just finished helping Alejandro prep the last entrée order: a platter of their ever-popular sausages. "I swear those spit more than an angry cat," Miguel said as he dabbed at the specks of grease shining on Alejandro's skin.

"Not nearly as much as Pepita. That little monster is going to bite my toes off one of these days, but as far as Diego is concerned, she's an angel." Alejandro leaned closer to him. "I think you've got some on you too."

"I don't...oh!" Miguel grinned as he realized what Alejandro actually meant, a soft rumbling building in his throat. "Sure feels like it. Mind helping me out?"

His heart fluttered as gentle lips pressed against his neck. Nuzzling the top of Alejandro's head, Miguel lost himself in a sea of soft brown curls.

"And here I was worried he was going to cast you aside like shed skin someday." Rosa snorted as Alejandro's little jump of surprise smacked his head against Miguel's jaw. "Do you two ever stop?"

"Not really," Yolanda said. She'd given up on prying the two of them apart, instead taking the long way to the pass with her jello salad. Ever since Miguel had convinced her to add jalapeños, it had grown from being their least popular dessert to their most popular, not that she'd ever admit how much his suggestion had improved her dish.

"Let them have their fun." Ralph loaded the last of his pots into the dishwasher, closing it with a firm thud. "I'm just glad they're enjoying themselves."

"You guys still up for hitting The Iron Cactus tonight?" Alejandro asked. "Wings are on us."

Us. That word filled the kitchen with Miguel's thrumming.

"I swear anything you do makes him purr like a cat in heat!" Yolanda said. "But yeah, sounds good. I need a freaking drink."

"You're going to need an even bigger one when I eat more wings than you again," Rosa said with a smirk. She still hadn't mastered the art of smiling with her lips instead of her fangs, but none of them minded.

"We'll see about that. I've been going easy on you, but now that I know you can handle some heat—"

Shouting echoed through the restaurant.

Ralph grabbed a knife. "Stay back. If those fuckers want to hurt any of you, they'll have to get through me first."

Rosa's spines rose. "Nonsense. I used to hunt coyotes for a living. If anyone can handle a bunch of hooligans, it's me."

"Let's all go." Miguel slipped his hand into Alejandro's before he could protest. "They might be able to handle one or two of us, but only a fool would challenge all of us."

Only one customer remained to witness the commotion. Huddled beneath a table, he hid behind José as the young chupacabra crouched in front of him with his spines raised, ready to defend him despite trembling like a leaf in a hurricane.