get any more comfortable when she wrapped both hands around her glass and brought it to her lips to drink.
Too distracted to make conversation, he was glad she wasn’t one of those people who needed to fill silence with idle chatter. Instead, she seemed content to sip her water and look around the pub with those wide grey eyes.
And there were still things to see, even if few patrons populated the pub. One or two brave souls sat at the bar and another quiet pair sat in a different corner booth. Conversation was hushed, as if everyone was too exhausted to be loud. This area had been hit harder by the infestation, as close as it was to Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park. Stray zombies shambled out of the parks and into the alleys at night. Some were even lured out by bait set out by crazy hunters. Until the virus could be brought under control, this area would continue to struggle.
Jobs were gone. People eked out what existence they could supporting the new hunter tourism or trading each other for simple skills, like plumbing or handiwork.
Still, the pub had seen hard times before and it would weather the winter nights as well. Seth and his pack mates would see to it.
Once the zombies were gone and the quarantine lifted, London would bustle again.
“Here you are.” Mel returned with two large platters. “On the pack account, Seth?”
“My personal tab, Mel. And buy yourself a drink for when you get off, will you?”
Mel smiled and gave him a nod, then left them to their meal.
As hungry as he was, Seth studied Maisie’s plate first, to be sure it had been put together proper.
A salad of light greens had been arranged in a nice pile on her plate and a crisp breaded fillet of haddock laid on top. A perfectly poached egg sat perched on the haddock with a light drizzle of some sort of Béarnaise sauce over it all. In another small dish was her side of mushy peas.
Mel’s cook did wonders with the shipments allowed in past the barricades and the little roof garden up on the top of the building.
Maisie laid a napkin in her lap and took up her fork, piercing the poached egg to let the rich golden yolk flow. Then she took a bite of the flaky haddock and a bit of salad. Her eyes rolled up and she gave an almost inaudible moan of pleasure.
Damn, but he might bust a zipper in his britches. The girl did enjoy her food. He desperately wanted to lick away the bit of sauce on her lip, but she wiped it away neatly with her napkin before digging in for another bite.
“Taste good?”
“Wonderful.” She didn’t even look up.
He didn’t blame her. It smelled wonderful. So did his meal. He applied himself with a hearty appetite to the double portion of bangers and mash with his own side.
After a few moments, he noticed her watching him eat. “You have a question?”
She blinked, then tucked an errant curl behind her ear. “I’d have thought, you being what you are, you’d be eating a lot more...protein.”
“Bangers are protein.”
She nodded. “True, but I wouldn’t have thought you’d like bubble and squeak.”
He looked down at his fried vegetables, mostly potato and cabbage with some peas and a bit of ham. Not many Weres liked it, she had the right of it there. “Well, I used to have it all the time before I was changed. I guess I never lost the taste for it. You don’t like it?”
She held up her hands. “I prefer mushy peas with dinner, myself. But a nice bubble and squeak is always pretty satisfying with breakfast.”
How did she manage to get him to grin over and over again?
* * *
It wasn’t until later, once he’d returned her back to the animal clinic, that he pushed her again. “I’ve answered your questions. You still haven’t answered mine from before supper.”
She blew out an exasperated huff, the puff of air lifting a wavy lock of caramel hair out of her face. She was probably grumpy again because he’d insisted on carrying her after they left the pub.
“Because I don’t want to
Too distracted to make conversation, he was glad she wasn’t one of those people who needed to fill silence with idle chatter. Instead, she seemed content to sip her water and look around the pub with those wide grey eyes.
And there were still things to see, even if few patrons populated the pub. One or two brave souls sat at the bar and another quiet pair sat in a different corner booth. Conversation was hushed, as if everyone was too exhausted to be loud. This area had been hit harder by the infestation, as close as it was to Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park. Stray zombies shambled out of the parks and into the alleys at night. Some were even lured out by bait set out by crazy hunters. Until the virus could be brought under control, this area would continue to struggle.
Jobs were gone. People eked out what existence they could supporting the new hunter tourism or trading each other for simple skills, like plumbing or handiwork.
Still, the pub had seen hard times before and it would weather the winter nights as well. Seth and his pack mates would see to it.
Once the zombies were gone and the quarantine lifted, London would bustle again.
“Here you are.” Mel returned with two large platters. “On the pack account, Seth?”
“My personal tab, Mel. And buy yourself a drink for when you get off, will you?”
Mel smiled and gave him a nod, then left them to their meal.
As hungry as he was, Seth studied Maisie’s plate first, to be sure it had been put together proper.
A salad of light greens had been arranged in a nice pile on her plate and a crisp breaded fillet of haddock laid on top. A perfectly poached egg sat perched on the haddock with a light drizzle of some sort of Béarnaise sauce over it all. In another small dish was her side of mushy peas.
Mel’s cook did wonders with the shipments allowed in past the barricades and the little roof garden up on the top of the building.
Maisie laid a napkin in her lap and took up her fork, piercing the poached egg to let the rich golden yolk flow. Then she took a bite of the flaky haddock and a bit of salad. Her eyes rolled up and she gave an almost inaudible moan of pleasure.
Damn, but he might bust a zipper in his britches. The girl did enjoy her food. He desperately wanted to lick away the bit of sauce on her lip, but she wiped it away neatly with her napkin before digging in for another bite.
“Taste good?”
“Wonderful.” She didn’t even look up.
He didn’t blame her. It smelled wonderful. So did his meal. He applied himself with a hearty appetite to the double portion of bangers and mash with his own side.
After a few moments, he noticed her watching him eat. “You have a question?”
She blinked, then tucked an errant curl behind her ear. “I’d have thought, you being what you are, you’d be eating a lot more...protein.”
“Bangers are protein.”
She nodded. “True, but I wouldn’t have thought you’d like bubble and squeak.”
He looked down at his fried vegetables, mostly potato and cabbage with some peas and a bit of ham. Not many Weres liked it, she had the right of it there. “Well, I used to have it all the time before I was changed. I guess I never lost the taste for it. You don’t like it?”
She held up her hands. “I prefer mushy peas with dinner, myself. But a nice bubble and squeak is always pretty satisfying with breakfast.”
How did she manage to get him to grin over and over again?
* * *
It wasn’t until later, once he’d returned her back to the animal clinic, that he pushed her again. “I’ve answered your questions. You still haven’t answered mine from before supper.”
She blew out an exasperated huff, the puff of air lifting a wavy lock of caramel hair out of her face. She was probably grumpy again because he’d insisted on carrying her after they left the pub.
“Because I don’t want to
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