“Cade and the boys had salted the pork and beef the day before and only needed to finish preparing the pits for slow smoking. I watched them hauling out the huge shanks of meat and asked where they’d come from. Cade had a giant pink pig flung over each shoulder. “Bellini keeps about a hundred head of cattle and a pen full of these plump guys.” “But I thought you guys liked your meat um, rare,” I said, remembering the pile of bloody steaks on the kitchen table. Cade shrugged under his burden. “Ta...stes run the gamut. Me? I prefer twelve hours of hearty smoking. Bellini too. The Ivanovs would rip the raw throat from a living animal if it wasn’t widely considered bad manners. My boys and most everyone else is somewhere in the middle so we’ll stagger the cooking to make everyone happy.” I nodded. “Got it.” Really though, I didn’t. Apparently the learning curve for all things werewolf was pretty steep. I knew I had only begun being schooled. “Hey, Cade?” He turned around when I called, his eyebrows raised.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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