Trick or Orc Read online

  “When is she supposed to be coming then?” I grumble.

  Lynn’s eyebrows rise at my tone, but she’s been around orcs enough over the last year to not pay it much mind.

  “Tomorrow. Your sister will be covering for me while I get her and her family settled.”

  I grimace, attempting not to think ungracious thoughts about the husband and how I would rather bury the unknown male six feet under in my mother’s garden so I can have Kassie to myself. I may have happily left to the battlefield for the kitchen, but there is no denying that orc instinct runs strong when it comes to what we want.

  I am also not thrilled about Erra filling in for Lynn. I love my sister dearly, but the female is better suited for the work she does in the tavern. Bodi likes to say that she can’t cook… she can, just not as well as her mate, and not the sort of food we make here. “Are you certain that is a good idea? She is a decent server, but she’s a disaster in the kitchen when it comes to our menu,” I point out.

  “She’s not that bad,” Lynn chuckles. “She can run the coffee bar smoothly enough and can even prepare the items off of the breakfast menu.”

  “Not that well,” I mutter. No one has complained about her cooking, but everything she makes smells a trifle overcooked and it distresses me. I sigh and drag my hand over the hair knotted tightly at the back of my head. “I will come in early to get the daily baking completed before she comes in so I can help her.”

  Lynn stands on her toes and presses a kiss to my cheek. “I knew I could count on you,” she says happily as she drops flat to her feet once again. “And don’t worry, it’s just for one day. Kassie and I will be in bright and early the next morning.”

  I grunt and turn away to head back into the kitchen to return to work. Good solid countertops are lined with mixing bowls and the shelves above holding racks of pans ready for use. It is a good kitchen. The best I’ve ever seen, in fact, since Lynn brought with her many ideas that we were able to adjust and replicate to be suitable for our needs.

  I’m unable to focus though as I am already distracted with the thought of sharing the space with the woman I desire. The entire left side is all mine with its own oven, but she will be close at hand working with the equipment on the right side. Perhaps I will be fortunate enough that she will remain on her side and the smells of cooking will drown out her delightful natural perfume. I could then perhaps ignore her.

  I snort to myself in amusement because I’m not good at deceiving myself. There is slim to no chance of me being able to ignore her. Kassie. Even her name sounds enticing.

  I hear the little tap of Lynn’s shoes as she steps inside, and her eyes on my back make the hairs on my neck prickle. I endeavor to ignore her as I grab a sack of flour from storage. The Hallowed Night is coming, or Halloween as humans call it, and I’ve been waiting eagerly to try some of their customary treats.

  Taking out a measuring cup, I scoop flour into a bowl and turn for the sugar. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lynn with her hip propped against a table as she takes another sip of coffee. I’m thinking that is her second cup now. It never ceases to amaze just how much of that stuff her small body can take at once.

  “Do you have some objection to Kassie being here?” she asks.

  I shake my head, my brow furrowing. “Why would I? Aside from hiring Ehndera, your decisions have always been sound. If you trust her to run your kitchen, then I have nothing to complain about as long as it doesn’t interfere with my own work.”

  She’s going to interfere just by being there, but I’m not about to point that out.

  Lynn is all smiles, though, so I guess I’ve said the right thing.

  “Good. Things have been rough for her lately, so I want to make sure she feels welcome as a part of our team. Gods know I’ll be relying on her with the Halloween carnival the village has decided to put on this year. If it’s anything like the harvest festival last month, it will be certain to draw in a crowd and we’re going to need all the extra hands we can get.”

  I nod, trying to keep my mind focused on the carnival and away from prying for more information about Kassie. The carnival is a good idea. Since opening up for tourism at different points of the year, we’ve seen considerable wealth filter into our community. The humans have to trade out their paper money for the coin currency that we use before they come over, but it doesn’t seem to deter them any. Everyone in the village is excited to be adding the carnival attraction.

  A bell sounds from the front door opening, and Lynn hurries out, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I keep determinedly fixed on the dough I am mixing together, shutting out everything else, even the hum of voices in the shop, until I hear a heavy stride enter the kitchen. I glance up, my scowl become fiercer when my gaze falls as the male lounging against a counter, watching my work.

  “Don’t you have work to be doing for Orgath?” I demand in a clipped voice.

  As the chieftain’s right-hand male, Bodi has many responsibilities in Obrul-tarin as the main village of Clan Obrul. Yet somehow, he still manages to find time to be annoying. Seems today I’m his unlucky target.

  Bodi’s grin widens to display a number of sharp teeth in addition to the full length of his tusks. They are an impressive pair, but not quite as large as mine, but then I’m the largest in my parent’s brood as well as one of the largest males in the clan, so I am big all over.

  “You’re in a foul mood,” he observes cheerfully. “I figured that you would be pleased to hear my mate’s plans.”

  “It’s not my business,” I grunt back as I turn toward the pantry, searching for the dried dates. Retrieving them, I head back to my station and wrinkle my nose at him. “Is that the only reason you’re here?”

  His smile drops, and he shrugs, though his eyes still sparkle with mischief. I momentarily debate whether Lynn would be upset with me if I relieve him of one.

  “Actually, I came to see my mate,” he purrs. “She forgot her supply list when she left our dwelling this morning.”

  As if I need that reminder that he has his chosen female and a youngling on the way, whereas I do not have mine. I know that he doesn’t really mean it that way. He is just enthusiastic about his mate, one that carries over to public displays that most of his kin can do well without seeing. That enthusiasm can be annoying to a lonely, lovesick male who never got the opportunity to claim his mate. All the same, I do know that I want to slam my fist into his mouth. I have the self-control of an elf, I’m thinking, because I refrain from doing that. Instead, I gently work the dough between my large hands, patting it out into a nicely shaped disc.

  “Why are you here then?”

  “Lynn is busy with her customers, so I’m waiting for them to leave.” He eyes me as I pick up the pastry knife and start cutting into the dough. “Since I was here, I decided to pop back here. I couldn’t resist the opportunity to see your reaction to the news.”

  “I see,” I mutter. “Now you know. Are you happy?”

  “No. It is actually disappointing, brother.” He pouts a little, which is extremely unattractive on an orc. He looks ridiculous.

  I roll my eyes and begin to knead in the dates. With my large hands, it takes little work to get it well-mixed and ready to shape. My date scones are much loved by those who came in during the mid-morning rush, so I saved them for last after my other baking, meaning they will be nice and hot for our afternoon customers.

  “As if I were put on Ov’Gorg to entertain you,” I say, wrestling my temper back under control. Of all my siblings, Bodi always knew how to get to me the easiest.

  He huffs at me, and that makes me smile. He scowls in turn, no doubt noting my superior tusks. I’m a little surprised, however, when he suddenly changes the direction of conversation.

  “Are you making special treats for this Halloween carnival?”

  I nod toward the far table, where I have caramel and a number of items to make the colorful festive treats that Lynn picked up for me on her last supply run into Ov�
��Ge.

  “‘Poison’ caramel apples, skull candy apples, sugar cookies in the shapes of ghosts and witches, pumpkin bread, pies, and cakes, spider cake pops, eyeball truffles, cupcakes decorated in Halloween themes and colors,” I rattle off from the top of my head.

  His eyebrows fly up, and he gives a dry laugh. “Some of those things sound less like treats and more like tricks. I’m not so certain about this Halloween thing.”

  I glance over at him from my work and raise a questioning eyebrow. “In what way?”

  “For one, that everyone dresses up as creatures they are not. Why? I enjoy being an orc and find that to be quite unique, frightening enough to scare away any spirit that might descend,” he says. “I don’t understand this obsession with spirits either. They can be found everywhere in Ov’Gorg and are nothing unusual. Except perhaps ghosts,” he amends with a smile.

  I shrug and chuckle. “Humans are not as imposing as we are. It is natural for them to enjoy an evening pretending to be of another race. And the younglings will also have fun imagining themselves as different beings. It will be amusing to see the humans in their costumes, not to mention profitable for the village.”

  He makes a noise of agreement, his expression tightening. “As long as my mate doesn’t overextend herself. I do not like the idea of her working too hard to satisfy the demands of an impatient crowd of humans.”

  Ah, there is the overprotective male I know that lurks beneath all of his foolishness.

  “She is bringing in her friend from Ov’Ge,” I point out, unable to bring myself to utter her name out of fear that I will stumble over it. “It is good timing too. She will have plenty of time to train her before the carnival officially starts. I’m sure that Lynn will have all the help she needs.”

  “Lynn doesn’t need that much help,” Lynn says, striding back into the kitchen. She stretches up to place a kiss on her mate’s cheek. “Stop fussing and worrying about me. I’m pregnant, not on my deathbed. And Garval is right. Lynn’s timing is perfect. Everything will run so much smoother with her here.”

  My brother sighs and nuzzles his mate as I turn away, taking up the sheet filled with perfectly cut triangular wedges to the oven. Double-checking the temperature, I slide them in. I wonder if Kassie likes scones, or perhaps there is another sweet that she especially enjoys. Even with treats baking in the oven, my mind keeps returning to her.

  How am I going to survive working with her?

  Chapter 3

  Kassie

  “This is it,” Lynn says cheerfully as she drags one of my suitcases into the small gray stone cottage in front of us. “It isn’t a lot, but I was thinking it would probably be just the sort of little cozy place to get you guys started.”

  “It’s great, Lynn, really,” I reply, still trying to take in the eyesore in front of me.

  It’s obvious that it needs a lot of repairs, which Lynn had admitted to before my arrival, but I’m relieved that it’s mostly cosmetic issues. I can live with that. It may not be pretty, but it’s not ready to fall down around my ears, nor is it located in an undesirable neighborhood since there really isn’t any such place in the village. Despite the little things that make me wince, I rather like it. It is quite cozy, as Lynn says. Cozy meaning small. I am sure by orc standards it’s considered a bachelor pad, since it only has the two rooms and a modest living room.

  “Great,” Chris mutters as he dodges a spider web. He gives the gray stone walls an unhappy look. “I gave up cable TV to live in the Sanderson house.”

  “Chris!” I snap, giving him a warning look as I shift Matty’s weight on my hip.

  I’m totally exasperated and done with the moody teen energy already. I also want to find a corner to sit down and have a good cry because I walked into this eyes wide open and knew it would be this way.

  He immediately holds his hands up in surrender, a look of chagrin settling on his narrow, youthful face. Despite his sometimes wayward mouth, he’s a good kid, and I know he can see that I’m just barely holding things together. This is a big change for all of us.

  “I mean, that’s cool and all. I love the goth vibe, Mom, really. I just…” he trails off, and I nod in understanding.

  It’s not home.

  “Sanderson house, heh. You would be so lucky,” Lynn teases, setting the suitcase beside the wall. “No witches have lived here, but maybe you can be the first,” she winks. “But hey, since when did cool kids these days make Hocus Pocus references?”

  Chris blushes a bit but gives her a lopsided grin. “Come on, Aunt Lynn, you know it’s part of Mom’s yearly Halloween movie fest. Or it was, anyway,” he amends.

  Right. No holiday movie fests out here. He doesn’t mention that of our line-up, it’s the one he always wants to watch first. My son, like me, has a huge fascination with all things occult, something his father always blamed me for. As if I deprived him of the son he wanted just because Chris prefers that to sports.

  “I like it,” Nora says quietly, hugging her big, floppy stuffed bunny, Ms. Bun, to her chest. Her eyes are wide with curiosity as she looks around, a tiny smile on her face. “Agwana likes it too. We can have tea parties in front of the fireplace.”

  Lynn looks at me and arches an eyebrow, and I give her a helpless shrug. Agwana came into the picture after the divorce. Adopting an invisible fairy friend to help deal with her father’s abandonment isn’t the worst coping mechanism I’ve ever heard of.

  “That’s right, baby,” I assure Nora, giving her a warm smile. “We will get this place cleaned up in no time and celebrate with a big fire and some cocoa tonight. How does that sound?”

  A smile lights up my daughter’s face, and she eagerly nods. Those smiles have been too rare over the last year, so seeing it makes me all the more confident that, though adjusting may take some time, I’ve made the right decision.

  Chris sighs and musses her hair with a casual big brother grin that makes her giggle. “Come on, squirt. Since you like this place so much, let’s go check out the digs.”

  “I get dibs!” Nora shouts, streaking ahead of her brother, her ponytails bouncing as she races towards the back of the cottage.

  “Your rooms are up in the loft!” Lynn shouts after them, a grin curling her lips.

  Her words are immediately followed by the elephant-like thump of feet hitting the stairs as the kids scurry up to the small second-floor area. My eyes lifting upward toward the guard rail stretching across the half-floor above in time to see Nora’s pigtails fly past as she runs toward a room. I wince as a door slams open.

  “Don’t worry, Mama. They’ll adjust quickly,” Lynn assures me with a friendly bump of her shoulder against mine. “It may not look like it to an outsider, but there’s no shortage of stuff to do, see or experience here. They won’t even miss TV, video games…”

  “The mall, internet… electricity,” I add with a laugh. It fades into a groan as I rub the bridge of my nose with the heel of my palm. “I hope I’m doing the right thing.”

  Lynn wraps an arm around my shoulders and squeezes. “Hey, it’s okay. You aren’t signing away your soul in blood or anything,” she teases. “If it doesn’t work out, it’s no big deal. I will do whatever I can to help you get set back up at home. I just hope you give this a genuine chance. Orcs are a bit rough around the edges, but you really can’t ask for a safer place for your family. Chris is even of the age where he can start looking at various skill sets for training. He’ll be kept so busy that he won’t even miss TV.”

  I nod, responding with a smile of my own as I exhale slowly and brush a mass of red curls out of my face, letting some of my anxiety drain away.

  “Yeah, you’re right.” I look around at the cottage in a positive new light. “This is going to be just what me and the kids need… something completely different.”

  “Damn skippy,” Lynn laughs. “Now come on, let’s haul your stuff in and build a fire. The days are still pretty warm, but the nights cool off quick. Then I can show you how to wo
rk the oven. You’ll be happy to know that there is plumbing at least, although you will still have to heat water for bathing.”

  “Well, that is something,” I laugh as I drop the pillows and blankets that I’ve been hauling in my right arm on an enormous old-fashioned chair. “Let me just lay Matty down first.”

  Lynn nods and grabs one of the blankets before leading me to the master bedroom at the rear of the house, just beside the kitchen. Although the kids will be the toastiest with the rooms directly above, I’m glad to know that Matty and I won’t suffer any in this room. The bed is so large I have to take a moment to admire the giant wooden frame with its padded headboard. It is dusty, but that is easy enough to fix.

  Matty’s drool on my neck cools as I shift him to lay him down on the mattress. His face is flushed pink with sleep, and it screws up briefly in protest before relaxing once more as the soft blanket is draped over him.

  We exchange grins over his sleeping body and walk quietly back out to the kitchen. It takes her little time for her to show me how to light the fuel and explain how to check the temperature as well as the ins and outs of using the stove for everyday cooking. Breaking out the supply of chocolate and milk, we get to work making hot cocoa so I can get a feel for the stove before we move back out to the living area.

  Armed with a tray of hot, steaming mugs, I’m pleased to see that Nora and Chris have not only come back downstairs but are now wearing smiles on their faces. They seem almost giddy as they take their mugs. I’m eager to question them about their excitement, but I don’t. Taking my own mug, I set the tray down on a low oak table and follow Lynn over to the hearth, unable to miss that there’s a long metal hook that extends inside the hearth to hold a cooking cauldron.

  I make a note to pick one up in the village. It would be perfect for making a nice stew once cooler weather set in.

  Hovering curiously beside Lynn, I watch as she stacks the wood and adds a good handful of kindling before reaching for the box of wood matches. She strikes a match and sets it in one spot, before repeating the process to lay another lit match in another place a bit further away. I watch as the small flames catch and gradually grow, red light slithering over the length of the top logs to join together in one warm column dancing in its flickering movements behind the metal screen she pulls in front of it.