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She ascended the stone staircase to the right of her living space and took deep breaths the entire way.
Once on the ground floor, she headed down the long central corridor that led away from the emergency center and toward the hub of the facility. She could hear the chatter of those she’d rescued over the past few months. They were in the large central living space that was forty feet deep and almost as wide. From outside, she could hear the hum and buzz of construction equipment. She was building a large complex that would contain a hundred apartments, plus a gym, a pool, and a café.
One of her rescues was an architect who’d drawn up the plans. Another, a general contractor. A third had experience managing large apartment buildings. Most of the money for the project had been donated by several of her rescues, men and women of means who’d gone through their alter process but who didn’t have the natural physical force to battle the more powerful of their individual species.
She loved her people and loved even more how those who stayed at the Landing worked hard to be part of the community and to give back however they could.
The biggest problem she faced was helping her rescues re-integrate back into their various home territories. Because of the violent drug culture prominent in Five Bridges, most people who’d been given a second chance wanted to stay at the Landing. They liked what she’d built and they felt safe. She didn’t have the heart to kick anyone out. So, she was adding onto her complex and would have a hundred apartments available in the next few weeks.
She made her way to the kitchens and consulted with the chef. She was a petite Mexican woman who made a knock-out guacamole and anything else she put her hands to.
“Let me guess,” Carmen said, smiling. “You need a twenty-four ounce, bone-in ribeye, rare, or would that be blood rare?”
Maeve shrugged. “He’s a wolf.”
“Blood rare it is.”
“Did Alfonso tell you?”
“That gossipy, freakishly tall man? Of course, he did. The whole facility is buzzing. No one can believe Officer Braden survived.” Her assistant-chef drew a fat steak from the fridge and brought it to her. She’d already heated up the grill so she tossed it on.
Maeve heard the sizzle and her own stomach rumbled.
Carmen turned to her. “You want a steak, too? You should eat. You’re still very pale, even for a witch.”
“Thank you, yes.”
Carmen’s assistant brought back a similar, though smaller steak and laid it on the grill as well. She then spoke a quick string of Spanish words. Maeve knew enough of the language to predict the assistant would grab lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers next, which he did. A salad sounded wonderful, too.
“Ranch, please.”
Carmen nodded. She was a vampire that had been dumped in the Graveyard almost a year ago by her drug-running boss. He’d been high on blood flame and mistook her for someone else. He’d attacked her viciously with a knife. No one had been able to talk him down and he’d cut and beat her to the point of death, not unlike Braden’s condition.
It was heard he’d felt remorse and had hunted for Carmen’s remains. When he couldn’t find them, he’d put out a sizable reward for her. Understandably, Carmen had no desire to return to him. Maeve had agreed to a name change to keep her identity secure and she’d been cooking for the Landing ever since. As far as Maeve was concerned, she could stay with her forever.
“We’re glad Officer Braden survived. He’s a good man. Everyone is talking about him. Do you know he got rid of one of the major drug-dealers in Savage? It was about five years ago after he became alpha of one of the twelve main packs. His efforts brought the crime rate down in that territory, at least for a while. The serum brings out the worst in a lot of people.” She clucked her tongue and shook her head.
Maeve didn’t want to hear more good things about Braden. She was already feeling an increased attraction to the man. She felt downright itchy inside her skin. But how could any kind of involvement with a wolf end well?
She’d spoken with him at least twice a week for the past year. He’d make appointments to meet her at her candle shop ostensibly to make further inquiries into his investigation. After a while, she made sandwiches for him, asked him about his work as a Border Patrol officer, and listened to his stories of Savage during his early days. Neither talked much about life before the alter world.
She’d come to think of him as a friend, and oddly enough, wolf though he was, she trusted him.
When Carmen loaded a large tray with both steaks, some grilled mushrooms and onions and two bowls full of salad, Maeve carried it back to her apartment.
The tray was heavy, but she’d gained some muscle carting all kinds of people out of the Graveyard. She even worked out in the Landing gym every other night.
Before she even reached the bedroom, Braden called out, “Damn, that smells good.” His wolf’s nose again.
She crossed the threshold and saw he was now sitting up. He looked better, too. He had some color in his face. Her infuser, and its scrap of emerald flame, appeared to be working.
She smiled. “I can sense you’d leap into the air just to get to this if you could.”
He dipped his chin in quick jerks. Her witchiness could tell he was almost panicky in his need for a solid chunk of meat.
She made quick work of setting up the hospital swing-arm table then set his food in front of him. “Don’t be polite.”
He grunted as he started to cut up his steak. He seemed impatient so she gave him a nudge. “Pick it up with your hands.”
