I nodded, disappointed but not surprised. Whatever brief connection we'd shared was over, at least for now. But I'd seen behind the mask, if only for a moment, seen the man who could laugh at teddy bear pajamas and listen to someone else's dreams with genuine interest.
As I settled onto the couch and pulled a blanket over myself, I glanced over at Rook. He'd resumed his vigilant posture, eyes on the door, but something had changed. The tension in his shoulders seemed less severe, his expression less harsh.
Progress, score.
Chapter
Eight
Winter
Imust have dozed off on the couch because I woke with a start to the sound of knocking. Rook was instantly on his feet, moving silently to the door with one hand slightly curved, ready for his claws to emerge if needed. He checked the peephole, shoulders relaxing somewhat before opening the door.
Milo bounced in, clutching one of his mini skeletons in the crook of his arm. His wild brown curls looked even more chaotic than usual, as if he'd been running his hands through them repeatedly.
"Evening shift reporting for duty!" He was so cheerful. "Or is it night shift? I can never remember what eight p.m. to four a.m. is called."
Rook closed the door behind him, performing a quick visual sweep of the hallway before securing the locks. "Evening," he grunted.
I sat up, rubbing sleep from my eyes. "Hey, Milo."
"Winter! You're awake!" Milo beamed at me. "I heard about what happened at the lab. Are you okay? Did you really make all the equipment explode? That's so cool! I mean, not cool that it was dangerous, but cool that your powers are that strong!"
His enthusiasm was exhausting and endearing at the same time. I couldn't help but smile.
"I'm fine. Just tired." I stretched, wincing as my knee popped. "And yes, apparently I don't like having my brain scanned."
Rook moved to the center of the room, his posture all business. "Status update," his voice clipped and professional. "No further incidents since the lab. Perimeter is secure. Winter had dinner at 1800 hours. No signs of Harbinger activity."
Milo nodded seriously, clutching his skeleton closer as he listened. The little thing's jaw clacked softly, as if it was trying to add its own commentary.
"Surveillance orbs are functioning normally," Rook continued. "The new vending machine hasn't tried to kill anyone."
"Yet," I muttered.
Rook shot me a look before continuing. "Fenric sent a message that he'll be here at 0400 for the morning shift. Zane is still at headquarters, debriefing about the cultist."
"Got it," Milo nodded. "I brought a laptop like you asked. Not one of the haunted ones, even though they do have better graphics." He set his skeleton down on the counter next to Frank's fishbowl and reached into a shoulder bag, pulling out a sleek silver laptop.
Rook finished his briefing and headed for the door. He paused, glancing back at me with an unreadable expression.
"Try not to break reality while I'm gone," he gestured to the vending machine, which I was pretty sure was his version of "goodnight."
"No promises," I gave a small smile.
Something flickered across his face, amusement, maybe, before he nodded once and left.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Milo spun around and presented the laptop to me with a flourish. "For you, my lady," he gave it with an exaggerated bow.
I laughed, taking the computer. "Thank you, kind sir."
"It's Bureau-issued, but I disabled most of the spyware," he whispered conspiratorially behind his hand. "They can still see what websites you visit, but they can't access your personal accounts or anything."
"Milo, you're the best." I was genuinely touched by his thoughtfulness.
He beamed, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Just don't tell Fenric. He'd have a bureaucratic meltdown."
I settled back on the couch and opened the laptop. It booted up quickly, displaying a standard government login screen. "What's the password?"
