A Slice of Pie

Chicken

"So," Cass hummed, his cruel grin still stabbing at my wounded chest. "Let me get this straight. My little brother, the Great Callan of the East, traveled all this way to tell the girl of his dreams that he - and I quote - loves pie?"

I groaned heavily at the question. The sound strengthened the shame filling my chest. "Yes, how many times do I have to say it?"

"Hm. I suppose when it stops being funny."

"Cass."

"What?" he laughed, the sound light and airy yet deafening to my burning ears. "You can't blame a guy for laughing, can you!"

I could if that guy was my own blood.

Honestly, I thought out of everyone in Bloomsbury, my own brother would spare a bit of sympathy.

"Aw, give him a break, love," whistled my new sister-in-law, Mary. She plopped two large pints of fizzy, yellowed beer in front of us. "It's his first day back. Be nice."

I hadn't touched the first sip, but the kind gesture was enough to lift my gaze.

Mary was pretty, sure. With her shiny, blonde curls caressing her delicate chin and a smile that could win over any drunkard's heart, I wondered what she saw in the short, lanky fellow that could barely read a sentence.

Unlike Cass, Mary was kind and was quick to take pity on the man who stumbled into her bar with a broken heart and whole week's worth of Apple Pie.

That man was me. And, to be honest, I didn't really care for pie. But, there was no way I could turn it down. Especially not after she offered it to me.

I hadn't seen Winfred Taylor Cowley in fifteen long years. And, yet, she was as beautiful as the day we became friends on the playground.

I know I should have stopped by Cass and Mary's place for a bath first. Cause, Gods, does the stench of the Hunt stick! I can't imagine how horrified Winfred must have been to have me so close.

Yet, I couldn't help it! Call me smitten but I assure you any good man would have done what I did if they took one look at her.

Her black hair stretched past her waist in a curtain of silk and smelled of sweet apples. Then there were her eyes -Gods, her eyes! I dreamed of the day when I'd be gazing into those sweet, cozy forests again. But never stopped to think that they would have had such a crippling effect on me.

Winfred Taylor Cowley had me wrapped around her little finger and didn't even know it. All because I said;

"Pie!" Cass bellowed again. This time to a man I didn't quite recognize. Still, the stranger offered me an apologetic grin while my older brother bellowed with laughter. "Can you believe it? This guy!"

"I am going to kill you."

"I'd like to see you try," Cass beamed bravely. "Want to take it outside?"

"It's raining, love!" Mary called from somewhere in the back.

Cass sniffed, his dark blue eyes slumping over to the window. There, the skies still cried over the teeny town of Bloomsbury. "Oh yeah," he huffed, rolling his gaze back to me. A sly smile crept onto his long face. "So, Chicken, what's the plan now?"

I winced at the name before finally sitting up straight in my seat. The stool creaked under my weight as I looked down at my older brother.

Fifteen years of letters yet none of them prepared me for the day I looked down at the guy who used to beat me senseless.

"What do you mean?"

Cass widened his gaze as if I were to read his mind. "Brother! Come on, you've got to have a plan."

I wondered how Mary would feel if we did wrestle outside for a few minutes. You know, for old time's sake.

"A plan for what?" I asked, pushing the itch for revenge aside as I picked up my pint of beer.

Cass straightened. He shook his head in disbelief - the motion nearly causing him to fall off his quiet stool. "Cal!"

How many of these had he had? There were eight large glasses on the table and I'm still on my first, so-

"Callan!"

Gods, does this stuff reek! Is he really drinking this? The guys on the Hunt liked it, too. So, it can't be that bad.

Cass jumped from his seat now. His blue eyes were wide as he slammed an impatient fist onto the bar.

"Crying toads, Brother, what's your plan for wooing Wicked Winnie of the West?"

CRASH!

I hadn't taken my first sip of beer. The pint barely touched my lips, I swear. Yet, there was no denying that it was my glass that had shattered onto the floor. Yellow liquid that reminded me of something vile spread over the old wood while I gaped at Cass.

"W-What?"

Cass raised his brow. His gaze darted from the stinky puddle to my paled expression. "Hey? You good?"

"D-D-Did y-you just-"

Mary came running over, wide eyes rushing down to the broken glass. "Gods, Cass! I told you not to get carried away."

"Woah," Cass chuckled, raising his half-empty pint as evidence. "It wasn't me. I swear, lovely!"

Mary turned to me, then. And, I have to admit I wasn't the most pleasant thing to look at. I could feel my stomach twisting and turning while Mary placed a cool hand on my scorching cheek.

"Oh, dear," she hummed. "Perhaps I should have started you out on the lower shelf."

"Told you he couldn't keep up with me," Cass nodded in agreement.

I shook my head at both of them. "No," I huffed in disbelief. "No, that's not right!"

I stood from my seat. The stool fled from me and rolled across the floor. The other patrons of Cass and Mary's bar turned to me, eyes widening on my copper armor. I slammed my fist on the counter before finally narrowing my gaze on my idiot older brother.

Those forest green eyes came popping back into my memory - fresher now and still so comforting.

"No."

Her voice was sweet. Sweeter than honey to my ear.

"I don't believe it."

She was kind. Always so kind. There was no possible way she could be-

"I won't believe it. Take it back, Cass!"

Cass didn't fight as I snatched him up by the collar of his shirt. His eyes didn't widen with fear. Nor did he gape in surprise when the little brother he had once loved to terrorize lifted him off his feet.

I huffed in anger, my face burning as I recalled my years with the Hunters of the East. All the horrors I've seen. The murders I witnessed. The monsters I killed.

"Take it back, Cass. Now!"

I thought they had all come to an end today when I finally caught a whiff of that sweet bakery.

"Oh, Brother," Cass sighed, tilting his head. For the first time since my arrival, my older brother's face wrinkled with concern. "Don't tell me."

No, I don't believe it. I know monsters. I've fought them. There was no way someone who baked pies for Gods sake was a-

"You didn't know Winnie was a witch, did you?"