“Yep. You never know which demons you’re going to get.”
* * *
We loaded the trays into the back of the SUV. And when we closed the back door, found a stranger standing near us.
I nearly moved in front of Connor to protect him before realizing the stranger was a shifter, not a demon. But not, given his unfamiliar magic, part of the NAC.
He was about Connor’s height, but on the slender side. His skin was suntanned, and his chin-length dark hair was pushed behind his ears. His eyes were brown and deep set, with dark brows and long lashes. His expression was unreadable.
I felt the cold twist of Connor’s magic, then the angry heat. But his body language didn’t change.
“Swift,” Connor said.
“Keene,” the man said, then shifted his gaze to me.
“Kieran Swift,” Connor said. “Elisa Sullivan.”
This was the nephew of the Western Pack Apex, Robin Swift. At least he wasn’t another challenger. Or so I presumed.
“Strange time to visit Chicago,” Connor said, voice bland.
I wasn’t sure if Kieran and Connor were close. But it didn’t sound like they were bosom friends.
“Strange times all around.” Swift glanced at the back of the SUV. “You running deliveries now?” There was mild sarcasm in his voice.
“Is that any of your business?” Connor’s tone was light, but his magic was biting.
So maybe enemies?
“No,” Kieran said. “But I find myself curious about what’shappening in Chicago lately. And wondering how it might affect my people.”
He didn’t specify which “happenings” had interested him, but it was easy enough to guess. Odds were good he’d come to find out why Connor had rejected the challenge earlier this week and if the Pack was in danger of imploding or becoming dictatorial. But Connor’s gaze stayed steady.
“You’re here to help with the demons, then?” Connor asked, the challenge obvious in his eyes. “Because that’s the most important happening in Chicago right now.”
Kieran met Connor’s gaze and made his own silent evaluation—including a pinprick of magic that I guessed was intended to measure Connor’s strength.
“Absolutely,” Kieran said after a moment. “Where do we start?”
* * *
We started with the drop-off, and Kieran helped us carry trays into the empty storefront the city was using as an emergency response center. I let Kieran sit in the SUV’s front-passenger seat for the ride, and I sat behind Connor—all the better to watch Swift’s face as we drove. He noticed the damage done already as we passed but made no mention of it. He sat in silence the entire way. Was he considering what he saw, I wondered, or testing Connor to see who would bite first? Connor didn’t speak a word either, so the silence was thick and uncomfortable.
Shifters, I thought ruefully. They thought vampires were dramatic, but they had their own passive-aggressive plays.
When the SUV was unloaded and we climbed in again, I took the front seat, dialed up the office.
“Evening,” Theo said.
“Hey. I’ve got Connor and Kieran Swift of the Western Pack. We just finished a food drop-off.”
Theo would know the guest was unusual. But he was a cop, so he also knew how to surmise silently. “Got it. I’m sorry to report Felix Buckley was found dead during the day.”
Not entirely surprising, but still a bummer. “In Chicago?”
“Yeah. Magic wounds. No evidence he was killed by Dante, but the forensic people are looking. He was in a tiny apartment on the North Side. Looks like he’d holed up in there.”
“Trying to avoid more of Dante’s payback?”
