The Taste of Home

Chapter 23

Miguel awoke to an unfamiliar growling overhead and dampness against his cheeks. His bad leg throbbed as he dragged himself off the hard mattress, his claws clinging to the nightstand for what little support it could provide. It was only his first morning without a pack, and he already felt as if even vultures wouldn't touch him.

Subjecting himself to the indoor rain humans called a shower did nothing to improve his mood. The water dimmed Saguaro Pack's scent, each droplet washing away part of his only remaining connection to them and leaving him that much lonelier. Lesser.

Miguel's tears mingled with the frigid downpour as the reality of his new life washed over him. He was alone. Shaking, cold, and alone with nothing but his thoughts. His own sister had cast him out. If his own family no longer wanted anything to do with him, how long would it be before his few friends followed suit? And Alejandro, stars, what could he offer him but heartache?

After he dried himself off and threw on some clothes, Miguel had no reason to stay in the dingy, bug-infested room any longer. He'd sooner sleep outside than allow insects to roam over his scales again.

Miguel wasn't the only guest checking out that morning. A familiar pair of golden eyes turned to watch him as he approached the concierge desk.

"Fancy seeing you here," Luis said with a smirk. The cologne coating his scales mingled with the cigarette smoke lingering in the lobby in a nostril-burning symphony. "So, how much did you make?"

"I'm not in the mood, Luis." Miguel dropped his room key on the counter.

"They stiffed you? Rookie mistake. Money first, then let them please themselves."

"I said I'm not in the mood," Miguel hissed.

"Sheesh, were they rough with you, too?" Luis bared his fangs. "Where are they? I'll teach 'em some manners."

"I didn't mate with anyone! I'm here because... because I'm..." Miguel's voice cracked as his throat clenched. "I'm packless now."

"Shit." Luis worked his jaw, his back teeth grinding against each other faintly. "No wonder you look like the business end of a boar. Come on, let's get some food in you."

A strong hand circled Miguel's shoulder, dragging him toward the door. "Luis, the breakfast buffet's that way." Miguel pulled toward a side room to no avail. Luis was strong, especially for a packless male.

"So are the toilets, which you will be stuck on if you eat the rancid carrion they call food here."

"But I barely have any money!"

"Then let me pay. Stars, Miguel, do you always complain this much?"

With the hotel staff sure to gossip about them for weeks to come, Miguel let Luis take him to his favorite little hole in the wall. Literally. A blast of steam and conversations in a language Miguel didn't understand escaped through a sliding window in the side of the restaurant. A massive bowl of soup made out of neon lights shined above its name: Good Pho You.

Luis passed him a packet of sriracha and a Styrofoam cup filled with clear broth, chunks of beef, and herbs. "Don't be shy if you want more," he said. "This stuff's way too cheap for how good it is."

The aching in Miguel's throat lessened as he sipped the wonderfully hot soup. "This is plenty, thank you. I'm not sure if I'll be able to stomach much today."

"I bet not." Luis worked at a bit of meat caught between his teeth with his tongue. "So, why'd they ditch you?"

Miguel blew on the steam rising from his cup, watching the vapor spiral off into nothingness. His voice came out as a hoarse whisper. "Pack's been giving my sister a hard time about how humans treat us, so she tried to make me leave The Crimson Goat."

"Tried. You said no?" Luis squinted, eyeing him like a hunting party's latest quarry until his golden gaze reached Miguel's bad leg. He let out a low whistle. "No wonder. You look like a feisty one."

"I'm not. Got that as a hatchling when An- a friend dared me to hunt a coyote. Got hunted myself, and if Isabella hadn't heard me screaming..." He shuddered, blinking away tears as phantom teeth sent a pang up his leg. "Never quite healed right, but I'm still here, at least."

"Damn right." Swallowing the rest of his pho, Luis swirled the dregs left behind in the cup. "My mate was the same way."

"Sorry for your loss," Miguel said quietly.

"Don't be. It was a long time ago, and she'd be pissed if she heard anybody throwing pity around on her account." Luis cocked his head. "How's that human of yours treating you?"

"Still as sweet as ever." Despite everything, the memory of Alejandro's embrace still coaxed a quiet thrum out of Miguel.

"Not taking advantage or pushing you to act like a mate?" Luis backed away from Miguel's frustrated hiss. "Just asking. Humans can smell desperation. Makes them... pushy."

"We haven't talked about that sort of thing at all, which is fine by me. Mating has never interested me. Not with chupacabras, not with humans. Nobody."

"Ah, no wonder you got stiff-spined when I asked about you two doing that the other night." Luis dipped his head. "Sorry."

"It's alright." Miguel popped his claws in and out of the now empty cup. "Stars know how much longer he'll want to by my partner, though. I don't know what I can do to show him how much he means to me without hurting him." Even hugs were dangerous for them if Alejandro's pained reaction had been any indication.

"Well, you can start by telling him. Humans may be fragile, but I promise the only thing words can bruise is their egos."

"I do." All the time, every day as Miguel's coworkers often reminded them.

"Good. Glad you're at least not that clueless. Now, for the other part..." Luis patted down his pockets, grumbling curses under his breath before taking out a tiny brown bottle and unscrewing the cap. "This will help."

Miguel sniffed it, curling his lip at the potent scent. Whatever was inside smelled sharp and manufactured. Unnatural.

"It tastes better than it smells," Luis said with a laugh. "A dropper full of this, and you've got half an hour to kiss him wherever you want. Just make sure you get something in your stomach first and give it a couple minutes to kick in."

Miguel squinted at the tiny letters on the bottle's label. Half of it was scientific jargon, but he could at least understand what a venom suppressant was and that possible side effects included a dry mouth and toothaches. "You sure this works?"

To answer, Luis emptied the dropper into his mouth and, after waiting long enough to throw away their empty cups, sank the tips of his fangs into his own hand. "See?"

Miguel brushed a finger against the twin holes in Luis's palm, but his scales didn't even tingle.

"You've gotta be careful not to take too much, but as long as you follow the instructions you really can't go wrong with this stuff," Luis said. He handed Miguel the mostly full bottle. "This one's on me. You can get more from those folks I told you about."

"Thanks." Miguel slipped the bottle into his bag, careful not to put it too close to the heavy jars of salsa. "Does it ever get easier? Being packless, I mean."

"It takes a while, but yeah. You learn to make the best of it, sort of like how humans use the parts of cows that don't taste as good in pho. Things actually turn out pretty damn good once you figure out what you're doing."