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"I eat plenty," I said. Although in this case, I hadn't eaten in hours, and dinner had been interrupted.
Berna pursed her lips in obvious suspicion and stared down at me with a motherly look Mallory had probably seen a time or two.
"Fine. I guess I wouldn't mind a bite before I hit the road again."
There was a gleam of victory in her eyes.
Berna disappeared into the back room, and before the door shut fully again, I caught a few of Gabriel's words.
"Think, Mallory," he was telling her.
His tone didn't sound complimentary.
I worried my lip for a moment and decided to do something I rarely did - except in emergencies. I dropped the barriers that usually separated my working mind from my supersharp vampire senses, and I eavesdropped.
". . . it was the right thing to do," Mallory was saying.
"You think this is unusual?" Gabriel asked. "You think there won't come another time when you're driven to the breaking point, when you know using magic is the right thing to do? That's exactly what you said to yourself last time, Mallory, and that's the entire f**king point of this exercise."
"It's different this time," Mallory said.
"Is what the addict always says," Gabriel said. "Look, I'm not your father. I'm not even your warden, not really. You've got power; you could use it. I know that. You're here because you want your life to change. Because you want things to be better."
"How can they get better if I keep replaying the same scenario over and over and over again?" There was franticness in her voice, real and abiding fear. "That I'm going to f**k up everything again. That I'm going to f**k over everyone - again."
Gabriel paused. "That, Mallory, is the question you have to ask yourself. That's your work. Your struggle. Figure - "
Before I heard him finish the thought, the door opened and Berna emerged, a steaming bowl in her hands. I feigned interest in a soiled paper menu on the bar. What was a "Wolf Popper," anyway?
Berna placed the bowl on the bar in front of me, along with a spoon and paper napkin.
"What's this?" I asked.
"Stew," she said. "Eat."
I poked the spoon in. Although the bowl's chunky contents didn't look entirely familiar, they smelled delicious. I blew gently on a spoonful and took a bite, savoring the salty, smoky, tomatoey flavor.
"Tongue good for you," she said. "Much protein. You grow strong. Like oxen."
Of course it was tongue stew, and of course she wanted me to be an ox.
Fortunately, the stew was delicious, and I downed half the bowl before the door opened again. I expected to see Mallory, but Gabriel entered with Connor still in his arms.
Berna's expression softened, showing that hint of the motherly worry that was driving Mallory crazy. "She is good?"
"She'll be fine. I sent her back to the kitchen. The meat guys asked if they could come early today. They want to talk to you about the brisket order."
Berna murmured something in a language I didn't understand and slipped into the back room.
Gabriel took the stool beside me, Connor cooing between us.
"Is she in a lot of trouble?" I asked.
"I'm not her jailer."
"I know. And you did her a lot of good by bringing her here after Nebraska. I know she appreciates that."
"She's coming along. The routine, the manual labor, the monotony, keeps her from ignoring her magic, from pushing it to the back of her mind like she did for all those years."
That explained the chores he usually had her doing. "Before we figured out she had magic, you mean?"
He nodded. "Before she can learn to use it consciously, she needs to learn to have it. To just be with it, even if it's uncomfortable. Even if it feels wrong and ill-fitting."
"It seems like she's making progress. She said it was different for her this time. I think she was right."
"Is it different," he asked, "or is it exactly the same? She accessed the book because she was uncomfortable. Because she wanted to reunite good and evil. But isn't that also exactly why she acted tonight?"
"The rule can't be that she can't use her magic if she's motivated to use her magic. That's completely illogical."
Gabriel made a doubt-expressing sound. "Do you remember when Chicago burned?"
"Quite well," I said. "I helped put out the fire. I'm not defending her actions. You let her use magic with the Tates. You know she can help. We can't let her waste all that potential. What kind of life is that?"
Gabriel's expression softened. "It's a life where she doesn't destroy anyone else, including herself. She knew, even while she was crossing the boundaries between good and evil, that what she was doing was wrong. She knew the same thing tonight - that she shouldn't have used her magic to threaten a human you could have easily handled."
"Then when can she use it on her own terms?"
"I don't know. She has to be able to control herself before she can control the magic. That's her journey, and it's not gonna be a quick one. When she can use her magic and be at peace with it, she'll be getting somewhere."
I nodded and pushed around some chunks of unidentifiable vegetable - cauliflower, maybe? - with my spoon, my appetite gone again. Maybe Berna was right; magical stress didn't do much for the appetite.
What food couldn't fix, a certain boy could. I was ready to go back to the House, to go home to the familiar. I put down my spoon and pushed back the bowl. "I should probably get back. Can you tell Mallory I said good-bye? And thank Berna for the grub?"
"I can."
I stood up, but paused before heading to the door. "I'm not entirely sure why you took her on. Or me, I guess, since I come with her. For whatever reason you're doing it, in case she doesn't say it, thank you."
"You're welcome, Merit."
I walked to the door, catching a glance of the parking spots outside. My Volvo, beaten and weathered . . . was gone. Had the missing window given a thief easy access? Or had a rioter followed me here and stolen her as a final punishment?
I looked back at Gabriel. "My car's gone."
He rose and walked toward me. "Yeah. I'm having someone look at it. See if it's worth fixing."
My Volvo was undeniably "worth" fixing, since it was my primary mode of transportation. Still . . . "You're having someone look at it? Who?"
He smiled slyly. "I've got a guy."
Okay, so he had a guy, and his guy was looking at my car. What was the appropriate response here? Shape-shifter car repair etiquette was definitely not covered in the Canon, the code of vampiric law.
