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"You should tell your boss these hours are no good for your beautiful face. It's far too cold these mornings."
I smiled. Frances had a thing about cold air causing rosacea, and often lectured me about not wearing a hat and scarf.
"Unfortunately, killers don't really give a fig about how the cold affects my face."
"That is very inconsiderate of them," she said, snapping on some silicone gloves. "Now, what can I get for you this morning? The chocolate croissants are particularly good."
"Then I'd better get a dozen." If she was recommending them, then they had to be.
She gave me a happy smile and bagged the croissants. I handed over the cash, then headed back to our apartment. As I pushed open the front door, a familiar flash of red caught my eye. I spun around, spotting taillights disappearing down a side street, but couldn't see the make of the car. I frowned, wondering if I was getting so paranoid about the possible threat Blake represented that I was now imagining that every red car on the damn road posed a danger.
I shook my head and munched on one of the warm chocolatey treats as I climbed the stairs to our apartment.
Rhoan was waiting with the door open by the time I got there. "I smell chocolate croissants."
I took another one out, then handed him the bag. He took a deep whiff and sighed in pleasure. "There's nothing that smells nicer in the morning."
"Actually, I can think of one or two things that do."
The absence of one of those scents - my vampire lover Quinn - suggested he was either at work or out pounding the pavement again in an effort to get fit. Or fitter, as the case was. I squeezed past Rhoan and was instantly assaulted by the rich aroma of percolating coffee. I flared my nostrils. Hazelnut. Quinn must have put it on before he'd gone for a run. Rhoan would have put the Kona on, because that was Liander's favorite.
I headed for the kitchen, adding over my shoulder, "I thought you were supposed to be undercover this week."
"I was, but it went pear-shaped." He shrugged and shut the door behind us. "An old school friend of mine walked into the bar and recognized me. And of course, the damn suspect happened to be listening in via the close-circuit system at the time and fled."
"Well, he obviously wasn't innocent, then."
"No. There's a kill order out on him, but given he's a bird-shifter, he could have well and truly flown the coop by now."
It wouldn't help him in the long run. Kill orders were issued Australia wide. Sooner or later, the Directorate would get its man.
Liander wandered out of the bedroom he shared with Rhoan, bleary-eyed and looking more than a little worse for wear. I raised my eyebrows. "Big night last night, I'm gathering?"
"Yeah." He rubbed a hand through his tousled silver hair, messing it up even more. "Got that special effects contract I was talking about, and we celebrated big."
"Congrats." I pulled mugs out of the cupboard then went to the fridge to get the milk. "But I hope you realize you can't be out boozing all night when we become parents?"
Liander leaned a shoulder against the door frame and gave me the biggest smile imaginable. "That has such a good sound, doesn't it? Us as parents. Who'd have thought?"
Certainly not me - not with Liander as the father, anyway. I'd known for a while that my own vampire genes and the drugs forced on me by a mad former lover had made me incapable of bearing children, but there'd always been that slither of hope that at least part of the dream would be achievable. That I would still find a way to have children with the man I loved.
That hope was gone, buried along with Kye.
But with Liander and Rhoan's relationship stabilizing and deepening, they'd both developed a hankering to become dads. Liander's sister had volunteered to become a surrogate, and I'd had eggs frozen before my body had totally betrayed me - and my eggs were as close as my twin was ever going to get to having children of his own, since he'd gone sterile long before me.
Of course, Liander had dreams of a big family, with at least a dozen little Jenson-Moores running around. I wasn't so sure I could handle that many kids, as much as I'd always dreamed of a big family myself. And the sudden reluctance might have something to do with little Risa - who'd been the sweetest thing going - suddenly hitting the terrible twos and becoming a demon child.
"You'd better hope she has twins, because after seven of her own, she may not want to go through the whole process again for us."
Liander snorted. "Trust me, Emalee loves being pregnant. She's already said she's up for a second round of surrogacy."
She might be saying that now, but she hadn't yet gone full term and made it through the birth. None of us knew what effect the drugs I had been given might have had on my eggs. Or whether those changes would affect Emalee herself. This could still go horribly wrong, as so many other things in my life had. Which was why the doctors were monitoring Emalee carefully.
But I kept my doubts and fears to myself, not wanting to dampen Liander's infectious happiness.
"Oh, that reminds me," Liander added, accepting his coffee with a smile. "Emalee has her first ultrasound on Thursday. She wants to know if we're all coming."
"Too bloody right," Rhoan said, handing Liander a croissant before squeezing past him to grab his coffee. He glanced at me. "I've already told Jack we aren't available that afternoon, no matter what happens or how many crazies appear.">Then I swung the car around and headed for home. I was about halfway there when I realized I was being followed.
