“Pretty great.”
Translation: she felt some bloodlust, but could handle it just fine at the moment.
That was good.
It was only Tuesday morning, so we only needed to figure out a way to keep it under control for two and a half more days. I had a feeling it would be rough by the end, but we’d figure it out. There wasn’t any other option.
Harper invited the enforcers in, and just like Elise and Ryker the day before, they agreed.
We spent the morning making candles, then soap.
Harper gave me a knowing look every time I (obsessively) checked for an update about Maverick. I was sure whoever was messaging me wasn’t being entirely honest about his injuries, but the messages meant he was alive.
That was what mattered.
Around lunch time, we set to work figuring out how to make homemade pasta. Emma basically saved the day when we somehow managed to screw it up.
We made all-natural hair and face masks after that, and painted our nails and toes too.
Harper’s were white.
Mine were light purple.
As far from the colors of death as we could possibly be.
Both of the enforcers went with hot pink, because Harper dared them to.
When Maverick showed up, he told me I could paint his nails before he crashed on the dog bed. I made them match mine, of course.
We were wiped out by the late afternoon, so we turned on a romantic drama movie that everyone was talking about on the internet.
It was somehow both sad and thought-provoking, which was unpleasantly addictive.
One of the enforcers who replaced Emma and Karl provided couple of bundt cakes someone in the pack made. After Maverick sniffed them for poison, we were allowed to eat them.
I didn’t protest the sniffing.
Being poisoned sucked, and my luck was nowhere near good enough to survive it twice.
When the movie was over, we broke out some disgusting energy drinks (since I was still avoiding coffee rather than scaring the hell out of Maverick by drinking it) and used the caffeine to keep ourselves awake while we made homemade ice cream, gelato, frozen yogurt, and custard, because we weren’t convinced there was a big difference between them.
We were wrong, and enjoyed being wrong because it meant we had to eat more of everything.
While the ice cream churned, I gave in to the tiny voice in my head that told me I knew what I had to do, and I whipped up a batch of chocolate chip cookies.I didn’t know a good recipe for cherry ones, but something told me Maverick wouldn’t complain.
Wherever the enforcers were getting all of these supplies, I didn’t know, but I was here for it. Every time we asked for something, they just handed it over.
Sometimes it took two hours or so, which made me think they were sending someone to a store, but that was fine.
If Maverick wanted me trapped, he could fund the entertainment.
And if he had cared about the money, I would’ve paid him back. I wasn’t trying to save a few bucks during my best friend’s final days.
When Maverick came back and saw the cookies, he kissed me until Harper threw one at his head.
Then he ate all of them except the small plate we had already devoured with the enforcers.
At that point, we were so exhausted from all the sugar we’d eaten that we turned on a superhero movie we’d never gotten around to watching.
