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“Why is that so funny?” I demanded, standing as well. “He’s small enough to fit in the vents and has access. Daphne told me he used them ages ago.”

Julian visibly forced himself back into serious mode, but I suspected if he’d been human, he would’ve had to wipe tears from his eyes. “There’s no way he ripped anyone’s throat out with his teeth.”

“He’s fae,” I countered, unsure if that mattered.

“True. But imps have needle-like teeth. They would have bent if he’d attempted any such thing. He’d have been the one injured or dead if he’d attacked a shifter. I promise.”

I wrinkled my nose, disappointed in his reaction. “Well then, I just don’t know who else could’ve fit through there.”

“I do think you may be on the right track with the fae,” Julian said, again sitting on the edge of my desk. “They could have used magic. Or perhaps someone aside from your sister has the ability to create portals.”

“Shh!” I said, slapping a palm over his mouth. “Don’t say that out loud. No one needs to know.”

Julian lifted my hand gently and held on to it. “I will refrain from discussing it. In the interim, I have Gladys compiling a list of all shifters, vampires, and anyone else with the physical capabilities to commit the murder that has access to the base.”

I fidgeted. “Julian, there is something else I should share. It’s about Sa—” Before I could tell him about the awkward interaction with the missing shifter we’d witnessed the night before, the red alert lights vanished, and the room brightened substantially.

“It’s over,” I said, spinning in place. “Did they find Lauren?”

Julian was already on the phone. When he finally looked up, his expression was serious.

“No,” he said. “And everyone is accounted for. No one is here that shouldn’t have been. And in case you were still wondering, Sam is not on base.”

So that eliminated him. Probably. I pressed a hand to my head, trying to stifle a sudden headache. Julian was by my side in an instant.

“Have you eaten today?”

“Barely,” I admitted, thinking of the piece of toast I’d grabbed on my way out the door.

“Let’s get you some food,” Julian suggested, turning toward the elevator that had again appeared.

“Coffee too?” I asked, joining him.

“Coffee too,” he agreed, setting a hand on the small of my back and leading me past Gladys and toward the parking lot.

We rode in silence toward the village, but when we pulled up at the pub, I noticed Carmichael seated in the window. I did not have the energy to deal with him at that moment.

“Do you think we can just get something to go and maybe sit outside somewhere?” I asked before he cut the engine.

“I don’t see why not,” he said, pulling out onto the road again and heading into the subdivision.

We steered into his driveway, a sweet little house with a non-descript exterior filled with a mishmash of décor he’d collected over the centuries.

“Wait here,” he instructed.

I didn’t have to wait long. He zipped inside, superspeed, and was out again with an actual picnic basket and thermos, which he handed to me.

I unscrewed the cap as he drove and inhaled the delicious scent, unsure how he’d managed to brew actual beans so fast. And he’d made it just the way I liked it, with the perfect balance of cream and sugar. One sip and my headache eased into a dull throb.

“Thank you,” I breathed.

“You are most welcome.”

Julian parked the car on the side of the road near a stretch of black sand where the waves lapped hungrily at the shore, deepening to the color of his eyes further out. The rushing water and salt air felt perfect, despite our current attire—me in my teal silk blouse and fitted black slacks, and him in his uniform. So I pulled off my heels and rolled up my pants as best I could before taking the thermos full of coffee and following Julian and his picnic basket onto the beach.

“Will this do?” he asked, setting down the basket and sitting right on the sand.

I gave up on my clothes and joined him, letting the warm, soft ground cradle my body as I sat facing the ocean and inhaling deeply. “Yes. Very much. What’s for lunch?”