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“She wasn’t at the party.”
“So I noticed. I haven’t seen her around the building for a few days. Maybe she’s in Alaska, so she’s Jeff and Fallon’s problem.” Fallon was Connor’s aunt, Jeff her husband. They’d led the Pack to Aurora, Alaska, when Connor had decided to stay and fight with us.
Lulu frowned. “And she may be gone, but there were still a few shifters giving you and Connor dirty looks.”
“Noticed that, did you?”
“Hard not to. But you’re a damn vampire, and you aren’t going to be scared away from a man who’s into you because strangers have their panties in a twist.”
I grimaced. “I’m imagining hairy, naked bikers in lacy thongs.”
“Wolves in panties. Panty-wolves.” She waved a hand. “The point is, you’re immortal, and I figure you probably ought to take advantage of that. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”
“I could be staked.”
“That’s pretty unlikely. But we still haven’t gotten to the real reason you should go.”
“Are we nearing the end of this countdown?”
“I’m building dramatic tension. You should go”—she paused, presumably for more drama—“because this is your fucking thing. Getting out there and mixing it up. Not sitting in a damn office or being a Supernatural bureaucrat.”
“Hey,”I said, a little hurt by the comment. “My life got turned upside down, and I got a job in my field in a matter of days. And the Ombuds are good people.” Good, rule-abiding people.
“I know,” Lulu said. “You did the best you could when Dumas left you high and dry, and I’m still angry about that. You didn’t mope. You got a job, and you’re contributing to your community, and you’re helping pay the rent, which I like. But a desk at the OMB is not your destiny, Lis.”
“My destiny?” I asked, a little surprised that she’d come up with something so... supernatural. Lulu worked with shifters, had a vampire for a roommate. And usually preferred to leave the woo-woo to us.
“Your destiny. I shouldn’t be an accountant. You shouldn’t be a bureaucrat.”
“What should I be?”
“I have no idea,” she said. “You’re still evolving. You were teenage Elisa, Paris Elisa, transition Elisa, and now...” She shrugged. “We’ll see. But you’re going to be a hell of a lot closer to finding it out there—in the woods with the wolf—than in an office writing reports about River nymph dynamics.”
“It was a very good report. There were eighty-seven footnotes.”
“And a graph,” Lulu said, then walked to the couch and lay down on her back, eyes closed. “Woods, wolves, whiskey, and an invitation from the prince himself. This is the kind of thing you don’t say no to.”
“Maybe,” I said, unconvinced. I stood up. “I’m going to bed before the sun does the stake’s work.”
“If you go tomorrow, I’m eating the rest of your yogurt. You buy the expensive stuff.”
“I think that’s entirely fair. But I’m probably not going.”
THREE
Of course I was going.
I hadn’t been certain when I woke up. I hadn’t been certain when I’d brushed my teeth in the dark, or drunk a mug of coffee and half a pint of blood, or when Lulu and I practiced sun salutations in front windows that showed the dark city beyond.
I’d once used yoga to help me control the monster. Now I practiced to give it some exercise, to give us both some breathing room. It seemed to help, but it had been very quiet at the OMB, so the theory hadn’t yet been field-tested.
The monster stretched and moved as I did, filling my limbs with a warmth to which I was growing accustomed. Its awareness increased, too, so I had two views of the world, two opinions. Maybe because I’d given some ground, it didn’t try to overtake me, was content to exist beside me.
At least for now.
“Downward-facing shifter,” Lulu had said as we bent over, hands and feet on the floor, butts in the air.
“I don’t encourage you to say that in front of any Pack members.”
