I nod. It’s a massive understatement to say I’m also eager to see him. Rafa wasn’t in my apartment when I got back that night, and all of our interactions since have been through text. Very brief texts. Six in total. One of them let me know there were a handful of other vampires left after I took down Valiente, and that he was personally committed to hunting them all down. Four of the texts were about setting up this meeting today.
But when I asked him how he was doing after what happened between us, all he wrote wasI’m fine. Follow-up questions—I sent at least one a day—got crickets. Over the weekend, I even broke down and called. He never picked up.
My stomach has basically been clenched the whole week about how badly I could have hurt him without even realizing.
Ms. Stryker rises from the desk and motions for me to come over. “I’m waiting on a response from my contact at the Department of Homeland Security. That could take a while, so I might as well teach you a few basic runes. Let’s see if we can’t wake up this magic of yours that apparently sets things on fire.”
That sounds exceptionally dangerous—but I’m totally down for it. Especially if it gets my mind off of Rafa until he gets here. I spend the rest of the morning studying magic with the most powerful and accomplished wizard in North America. Even with the runic anchor that she draws on my wrist with a ballpoint pen, I’m not able to create any flame, not even a spark.
But with her help, I do have a moment where I start to sense my own magic deep inside. It rises as a faint taste of honey and jalapeño, with cool, crisp edges that fill my mouth. And even though the binding that holds my power back is solid as ever, the novel sensation makes me grin like a little kid.
I do eventually remember to ask Ms. Stryker about the Winter Queen’s invitation. That gets me a glower instead of a real answer. She clearly is not psyched about yet another god-like being expressing interest in me, but she says she’ll think over the best way for us to handle it. I really like that she uses “us” instead of “you.”
Rafa arrives shortly after—in khakis, chukka boots, and a white Oxford, looking like he dressed up. After tossing me a solid bro-nod upon entering the receptionarea, he keeps his attention fully on Ms. Stryker. I try not to stare as he takes a seat in the client chair I pulled into my boss’s office a few minutes ago, but I’m desperate to know how he is.
I’ve dragged my own chair in here, too, next to his, both placed in front of the huge oak Humphrey Bogart desk. Rafa doesn’t look injured or strung out or anything, but as he talks to Stryker, I can tell he’s also not 100% himself. He’s deliberately being professional. All business, with almost no emotion. And while it’s keeping me on edge, that tone is actually a good match for Ms. Stryker, who likes gruff. She leans back in her fine leather chair, arms folded, as he tersely explains how, without Valiente and his amulet, the local vamps went feral, making them more dangerous to random civilians, but also easier to track. And how, at this point, he’s cleaned out all the remaining undead in San Francisco and is working his way through the East Bay.
This meeting is really just between the two of them, so I keep silent. While he catches her up, Stryker doesn’t say anything either, but I can tell by the way she narrows her eyes that she’s impressed with him. And when she finally offers to help and he declines, telling her it won’t be necessary, her grunt is unmistakably pleased. There’s yet another apocalyptic thing she’s working on this week, and hunting down vampires is, frankly, beneath her pay grade. Knowing he’s got this covered earns him major points.
By the time they exchange phone numbers and rise for a handshake, they’re both smiling like old army comrades. Meanwhile, I’m so full of nervous energy, I’m having to focus hard not to bounce on my toes. WhileRafa hasn’t beenpointedlycold to me, he also hasn’t glanced once in my direction since we stepped into Stryker’s office. And now that Stryker is leading him straight through the reception area to the door, it seriously looks like he might take off without us even talking.
As she gives him one final handshake across the threshold into the hall, I decide to risk what little cool I have left by announcing that I’m going to walk Rafa back to his car. I expect that to get some reaction out of him, one way or another, which might reveal where we stand. But it’s Stryker who frowns.
“Don’t take long,” she says, eyes boring into me. “I have some more paperwork I want done by the end of the day.”
She knows what happened between me and Rafa, and what I am. It’s possible she’s concerned I’m going to somehow lose control around him, if we’re alone. I hope that’s not the case. Still, it’s not a totally crazy thought. I’m a lot less scared of my monster than I used to be, but it’s definitely back from whatever siesta it took after I used god-tier magic—and it hasn’t missed the fact that Rafa is looking as snackable as ever.
“I won’t be long,” I say as I step past her. And I mean it.
Stryker closes the door behind us, shooting me what could be another cautionary look, but she doesn’t stop me. Rafa and I then stride in silence toward the elevator. Collin follows just behind. As usual, he was hanging back when we were with Stryker, but now when I check, he’s beaming at me with his usual gentle sunshine. Even if myboss has some doubts about me, my guy doesn’t seem to share them.
I decide to try to break the ice with Rafa while we are waiting for the elevator to show.
“So… I think that went well.”
“Yeah,” he says, his own expression bright and easy, eyes forward. “Thank you for setting that up. She’s definitely a good connection to have. And at the very least, I should be able to help her with any street-level stuff she’s too busy for.”
I just nod, because I have no idea whether his relaxed smile means we’re back to being friends or if he’s just being pleasant. He’s still not looking at me.
The burnished brass doors open, and we step in. I wait until we’re both contained within the elevator’s walnut-paneled cab and he’s essentially a captive audience to ask the question burning in my throat.
“So, Rafa,tellme. How are you doing?” I’ve pivoted to face him, and I can’t help pulling fists with my hands.
Still gazing straight-ahead at the elevator doors, his grin broadens and he chuckles. “Honesty, Alvin, I’m great.”
“Really? Because I’ve tried to reach out to you, and all I got was ‘I’m fine.’” I try to keep the impatience out of my voice, and I utterly fail at that.
His eyes widen, and a blush hits his perfect cheekbones. “Well, maybe I haven’t texted a whole lot over the last few days, but fighting these vampires, I’ve just been so busy—” He then bites his lip and stops himself. “No.No. That’s an excuse. A bad one. And you deserve better.”
He turns to me and my heart hammers.
The moment his eyes land on my face, his breezy expression crumbles. His entire expression fills with regret—and something more intense I can’t name. “I’m sorry about the radio silence. Seriously. That wasn’t cool. The truth is, after what we did, the feelings… They were just so big. I couldn’t put it in a text. Even talking around it… I wanted to wait until we were in person. Until the right moment, I guess.”
“Feelings—you mean likeaddiction? Did you feel sick afterwards? Strung out?”
“No, no, no, Alvin. Nothing like that! You saw how I was before you left. I was totally okay.” He huffs out an amused breath. “Once I got back to my place, Ididsleep for forty hours straight. But when I woke up, I was as strong and healthy as ever, and that awareness I had before—about possibilities—it was still there. And with it came… something else.”
The doors open and we step into the Aston Building’s art deco lobby with its chipped marble wainscoting and walnut reception desk—unmanned as always. No one spends any time here.
