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But dawn was coming, and my eyes were growing heavy. I yawned, apologized. “Sorry. Biological mandate.”
“No worries,” he said. “I’m not in any hurry. I mean—don’t getme wrong. I want you. And want for you, Elisa, is a powerful thing.” He brushed his lips over mine. “A powerful thing,” he said again, and kissed me softly. “But we don’t need to rush. Especially not when the wanting is so much fun.”
I smiled against his mouth. “There is something... intoxicating... about the anticipation.”
“There absolutely is,” he said slowly. “And the other reason I can wait?” He slipped his mouth across my jaw to my ear and whispered, “Because I know it will be very, very worth it.”
ELEVEN
The next evening—since we were now on a mission—we walked across the resort toward the lodge instead of beginning the drive home. Tonight, the shifters would decide on Loren’s memorial. That discussion would be very telling.
My screen chirped, and I pulled it out, found a call from Petra. I accepted it, watched her face appear on screen. She had light brown skin and wide, dark eyes, her hair and brows both dark but for the golden highlights in her hair.
“Talk to me,” I said as we moved off the main path and into the shadow of some trees. “But be quiet about it.”
“Two things,” Petra said. “First, Theo and I passed your update along to Yuen, and Gabriel Keene also made a call. Yuen says be careful, provide a further update when you can, and keep an eye on your six. Do you know what your six is?”
“I do,” I said, lips twitching. “Why didn’t Theo respond?”
“Because all hell has broken loose.”
My heart gave a thud, and I imagined flying monsters and magic battles. “In Chicago? What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing with Supernaturals. Theo just discovered a copy ofMindmastersnumber four is up for auction today. He’s bidding. Yuen’s actually along for moral support.”
I’d have sworn my mental brakes squealed as my thoughts ground to a halt. “A copy of what?”
“What’s the condition?” Connor asked before Petra could answer.
I just stared at him.
“What?” he said with a grin. “That’s an important comic. First appearance of the Silver Champion.”
I frowned. “He’s the one who went from killing werewolves to working with them, right?”
“That’s him,” Connor said. “And they fought together against Captain Goliath.”
Seeing his face light, I realized we’d talked about this before—years before, when Connor had been fourteen or fifteen. He’d had an enormous collection of comic books, but he’d reached the age where he didn’t think it was cool to be into anything, at least as far as his shifter friends were concerned.
My parents had taken me to his house for dinner, where we’d also been joined by Lulu and her parents. While our parents had talked, we’d hung out in the basement, a shabby den that had been newly stuffed with boxes of comics.
“Are you finally moving far, far away?” Lulu had asked.
“Comics,” Connor had said, flipping through one. I’d sidled behind him, looking over the panels. They’d been beautifully drawn, with watercolor tones and expressive lines.
“Who’s the Silver Champion?” I’d asked.
“Werewolf killer,” he had said, then closed it and tossed it into the nearest box. “And before you get snarky, brat, he comes around eventually. Every man has a journey,” he’d added with attempted gravity. He sat on a weight bench in jeans and a T-shirt, lifting a dumbbell and trying very hard to look like he wasn’t trying very hard. “I’m getting rid of them.”
“Why?” I’d asked him. “You love comics.”
He’d shrugged, began to do curls. “I’m growing out of it. You’re still children,” he’d said with a cocky grin. “You wouldn’t understand.”
He’d been a punk but correct. I’d been thirteen, had my owncollections that straddled childhood and adolescence. Holographic nail polish—which was becoming a Very Big Deal for girls older than me—and the vampire Barbies I hadn’t played with in years but couldn’t bear to part with.
“I understand plenty,” Lulu said, snorting as she kicked her feet onto the coffee table. “For example, I understand you’re going to have to spend a lot more time lifting those weights.”
He’d been whip lean then, didn’t have nearly the muscle he’d eventually grown into. “Why don’t you come over here and lift it, witch?”
