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Bracing his hands against my tray table, Aleks says, “You had a meal with Gretchen, Leigh, and Tamera this morning. Leigh and Tamera are Cadre. Patrollers. They would know, but also know better than to worry my beloved with Cadre business. But Gretchen… as their third, they might have told her. It was Gretchen.” His eyes start to rim with red. “I’ll have to remind her that she’s not Cadre by her own choice. She should stay out of our affairs.”
Crap. I want to hash this out with him, not get Gretchen in trouble. And though he’s sounding as cultured and nonplussed as usual, he’s not too happy that Gretchen snitched.
And doesn’t that rub me the wrong way.
I cross my arms over my chest. “It doesn’t matter who told me. You said I can ask you anything. I’m asking you about last night. Did you get attacked by three vampires who were trying to kill you or not?”
Luna, he’s quick. Pushing off of the table, he reaches beneath it. Within seconds, Aleks has my sign tucked under his arm, the tray table folded into its compact form. He carries it easily despite the fact that, as a shifter, its weight is nothing to me.
“Come, ksiezyca. Why don’t we take that question home?”
I already had my answer. But Aleks’s reaction just opened up like ten more questions.
“Sure,” I tell him. “Let’s do that.”
CHAPTER5
LAVENDER TEA
Aleks sure loves his tea.
It’s one of the first things I learned about him. That he was a vampire, he had two centuries on me, he was Gem’s old roommate, and he has this weird thing for tea.
Before we were actually introduced, back when I first started working at the Cadre building, he sent me a package through the mail. It had my name on it, was covered in his scent, and called to me from the bottom of the mail bin. Leigh encouraged me to open it, and I did because I didn’t know what else to do.
He’d sent me a box of tea. No note. No reason. Just tea.
Since then, I’ve discovered that it’s one of his pleasures. Like his thriller novels and the old-fashioned murder mystery shows he watched when they were first airing, Aleks might drink blood to survive, but he adores his tea. And because he does? He thinks everyone else should, too.
I drink it because it makes him happy, not because I like it. So when Aleks guides me into the kitchen once we make it back to the apartment, I swallow my huff. Of course he won’t want to have this discussion without a cup of tea in front of us.
Pressing a chilled kiss to my forehead, he invites me to take a seat at the cozy kitchen table while he reaches for the tea kettle and one of his canisters of loose tea.
“I’ll make us some lavender tea. Then we’ll talk.”
Lavender tea. Woof. It’s pungent, and my wolf already has her belly down, paws covering her snout. I only just keep from doing the same. Once it’s brewed, I’ll get used to it, and I totally get why he’s grabbed that can.
The dark purple herb is supposed to relieve stress and anxiety while also promoting calming. The mood I’ve been in since brunch, I need it.
I fiddle with the fang on my chain as he moved around the kitchen, filling the tea kettle from the tap, prepping the infuser for the loose tea. He makes chatter, asking me about brunch, checking to see that I ate enough today. When I admit that I left before the meal was served, and that I might’ve accidentally skipped lunch, I get a stern look from my vampire as he goes into the fridge for a pack of bacon.
To shifters, food is a big part of our love language. Providing a meal for a mate is a shifter’s way of saying that they want to take care of you. If you accept it, then eat, you’re agreeing with their claim.
From the moment I moved into his apartment, I gave up policing my meals. Aleks is an excellent cook, and he treats cooking for me like he does when we’re in bed together: my pleasure is the only thing he’s concerned with. He almost takes it as a personal insult when I’m not completely stuffed—with his food or his dick—and I’ve grown to adore how much he fusses over me.
It’s been more than a decade since anyone cared about me. Since anyone wanted to take care of me. I still can’t believe that I lucked out to land Aleks as my fated mate, and something as simple as him frying me up a plate full of bacon while the tea steeps is almost enough to make me decide to stop questioning him.
Then again, because I do love him with everything I am, I can’t. I need him to know that I care about him just as much, and that I can’t even stand the thought of something happening to him.
Still, I’m a shifter. The second the bacon starts to sizzle, the air filling with the scent of it cooking, my wolf lifts her head up. My stomach grumbles. During my lone wolf days, I was hungry more often than not, so to go the whole day without much didn’t bother me. Worry for Aleks kept a pit in my stomach that only started to fade when we were back in the apartment. So when he presses a kiss to the top of my head now before sliding the plate of bacon down on the table, I thank him, then dig in.
By the time the plate is empty, Aleks has finished with the tea. He takes my plate, placing it into the sink, then comes back with two steaming mugs of tea.
Aleks sets one of them in front of me before taking the seat next to me. I blow on the top, waiting until it’s cool enough to sip. Knowing him, he won’t say a word about our discussion outside until I start to drink the tea. It’s a quirk of his—one that Gem warned me about, just like she told me to shy away from his chamomile tea for some reason—and I’ve grown used to it.
“How is it?”
Aleks loves tea. I love Aleks. Drinking flower water makes my wolf snuffle and sneeze, but he makes it for me, so I drink it. “It’ll be better once you tell me what happened last night.”
