Page 53 of Peacemaker

The seat of my jeans caught on cracked upholstery as I slid into a booth, and the table rocked slightly when I put my elbows on it. Crawford waited until I was settled before sitting across from me, and I realized he looked like he belonged in that quaint, sweet place, despite the grim darkness of his work.

“Frank,” the waitress greeted, pouring his coffee. “The usual?”

“Yes, thank you, Sue.”

She looked at me. “What’ll you have?”

“What’s Frank’s usual?” I asked. “I might have that.”

“Eggs, bacon, hash browns, and some of the best biscuits you’ll ever eat,” the captain answered.

“Yeah, and you’ll push your food around and drink a pot of coffee,” the waitress said, “like you always do.” She tried for a smile, but her eyes were dull and fixed, her face pale, and a spark of…fear, maybe, lingered in her stare.

Frank frowned up at her. “You okay, Sue?”

“I sure am. How are you this morning?” She looked at me without waiting for him to answer. “You want Frank’s usual, then?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Sure. And some orange juice. Thanks.”

“Last night kicked all our asses,” Frank said, after Sue walked away with our orders. “She’s usually an annoyingly cheerful morning person, no matter what’s going on in the world.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t you just hate people like that?”

He laughed. “I apologize for waking you this morning.”

“You should apologize for being so happy about it.” But I smiled. It was good to forget the mayor for a few minutes.

My phone vibrated and I glanced at the screen.

Check in.

I tapped a quick I’m fine, Angus, then placed the phone on the table.

Sue said little when she returned with our food, and Frank watched her the entire time with a line of worry between his brows.

I dug into my eggs and finished off my meal and two glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice before I considered broaching the subject of the rifters. I needed to fortify myself. And the subject matter would have spoiled my appetite.

Something had spoiled his. He drank four cups of black coffee and picked at his food, just as Sue had predicted, shoving his plate toward me after I’d finished mine and looked longingly at his untouched hash browns.

“You should eat more.” I finally sat back in my chair and rubbed my full belly. “Running on caffeine and stress will make you old.”

He snorted. “I am old.”

“No, you’re not.”

Our gazes bumped into each other, then slid away almost apologetically. The resulting awkwardness was both understandable and confusing.

I took a quick sip of the warm dregs of juice that remained, then plunked the heavy glass down on the table a little too hard. “Those things last night,” I started. And then I told him everything I knew.

He listened without interrupting once, his stare never wavering. And when I was finished, he blew out a hard breath and sat in silence for a good five minutes, mulling it over. Finally, he spoke, but he didn’t say anything I thought he’d say. “The mayor might try to take you, Trinity. If he holds you, he believes he can force the vampire master to give himself up. He believes he can force Amias to control the attacking vampires if he controls Amias, therefore making himself the hero of Red Valley—and the master of us all.”

I gaped at him. “He’s a power-hungry asshole.”

He nodded. “Yeah. And he can be a dangerous one.”

“And when he takes Amias and releases me, does he think Amias will stay put and I won’t fight back?”

He met my stare, his eyes steady. “He’s not planning on releasing you. You’re the key to all this. If he holds you, he holds control of the supernaturals, the vampires, their money, their power. Everything.” He leaned forward, his quiet voice dropping to a murmur. “Including you and your…abilities. You have to be on guard. He’ll use anyone to get what he wants. He’ll send someone after you if he decides he can do so without hurting himself.”