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The air outside was steamy hot and out for blood. News reports were discussing a wave of brownouts, and people by the dozens were succumbing to heat exhaustion. But in my apartment below street level, with a newly installed air conditioner humming away under its full power, I was satisfied to wait out the heat.
In the weeks following Daria’s death, my only contact with the council had been through Brigit. She told me that when she awoke in her shower and remembered her dream, she’d called Sig and relayed my message. While he would have been right to doubt a three-month-old vampire who claimed to have spoken to me in a dream, he had already received word from Christof, the witch. Christof, it seems, had received a fairly insistent phone call from a certain werewolf lieutenant insisting the witch owed restitution to a half-breed by the name of Secret McQueen.
Sig and Juan Carlos picked up Brigit, who refused to tell them where she was going unless she could come with them. The three were met en route by the witch, who relayed to them the confession he’d been able to overhear when I broke the window.
Brigit had driven Nolan and me back to the city in my car, and I hadn’t spoken to Sig since. Nor had I heard from Holden since Juan Carlos pardoned him. My sleep had been peacefully blank.
Plus, I had a new roommate to distract me from any concerns I had about the council. A roommate who was currently trying to annoy me to death.
“Where is it?” I demanded, digging through the fridge.
Since Desmond had moved in, my fridge had filled itself with strange things like vegetables and milk. My freezer was packed with frozen steaks and burger patties. My cupboards had spices and peanut butter in them. Plates and cutlery were being used. The kitchen smelled daily of cooking food.
“Where is what?” Desmond’s innocent voice replied from the living room. He was teasing me. I could tell by his ton
e he knew exactly what I was talking about.
“You know what. ”
He appeared in the doorway. “Tell me why you need it, and I’ll tell you where it is. ”
“It’s brand new,” I whined, shutting the door and opening the freezer.
“Cold,” he said, then laughed at his unintentional joke and decided to take it all the way. “Freezing. ”
“Hilarious. ” I slammed the door and stomped into the living room.
“Seriously, why do you need it?”
“I just want to know where it is. ” I knelt on the floor and looked under the couch. Rio’s bright eyes reflected back at me.
“Breow?” she said.
“No. Not you. ”
“Purrrrrrr,” she said.
I grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and pulled her out. She purred in my arms while I petted her absently and stalked around the apartment. I heard the hall closet open and ran out of the bedroom still clutching the cat.
Desmond was holding my brand new SIG P229. He had the gun in one hand and the cartridge in the other.
“Now you know where it is. ”
I tried to act nonchalant, which lasted all of two seconds before I placed Rio on the floor and jumped for the gun. He knew it was coming because he held it out of my reach.
“Gimme. ”
“Shrimp. ”
We’d been having this same fight for over a week. I thought I was ready to go back to work, and I knew Keaty would be thrilled to have me return. Nolan had begun to work for him in the meantime, and though the boy was a much more suitable student than I had been, I also knew Keaty needed me.
Desmond, on the other hand, loved to point out that my wounds from the silver katana were still healing, and he as Queen’s Guard decided it wasn’t wise for me to go back to work just yet.
I kept scrambling for the gun until I managed to irritate the healing scar on my ribs.
“Ugh. ” I stopped fighting for the gun and placed a hand on my side. “Fine. ”
“Don’t make me start hiding it outside the apartment,” he threatened.
