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“Loyalty to Connor. He’ll be Apex one day. We all know it. So stop working against him, and start supporting him. And if you don’t, I’ll have to tell everyone what I know. And what you did.”
Miranda looked at me for a long, quiet moment. “I don’t like you. And I don’t like you with Connor. He’s not evenimmortal.”
Those four words were sharp as a slap, a reminder of a very important difference between shifters and vampires. A reminder that, no matter how great our love, his life would be far shorter than mine. And I might live an eternity without him.
I winced and watched the flare of knowledge in her eyes. And knew I’d given her new ammunition to use against me.
She cocked a hip against the counter, confidence renewed. “I also don’t like that you get away with shit because of who you are. But the Pack is my family. So fine. I’ll support him.”
I wasn’t sure I believed her. But that had to be enough for now.
“Good,” I said. “You do anything that undermines his claim to the Pack, his rise to Apex, and every shifter in the country will know what you did. You’ll have nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.”
She took a step forward. “You fuck the Pack, and you’ll have nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.”
“Understood,” I said.
A stiff nod, and she turned away. We weren’t going to be friends, Miranda and me. But I didn’t need to be friends with her. I just needed her to do her part.
I left her to her work and went back outside, found Connor waiting by the SUV, eyebrow quirked. “Business?” he asked.
It was only because of the question that I finally sensed the magic we’d spilled into the air. Two strong women in strategic combat.
“Business,” I said.
For a moment, I considered repeating the fear she’d managed to dig free, the thorn she’d so neatly uncovered, that I’d been ignoring since I’d returned to Chicago.
Connor was mortal. I was not.
But I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t capable of considering that weakness right now. So that particular trauma would have to wait.
“All done here,” I said. “Let’s go to your town house. I thought I could spend the night—just the two of us. Assuming that espresso machine has been installed.”
His eyes flashed gold, and then his body was against mine, his mouth on mine, inciting and teasing as he slid his hands into my hair. He was strong, beautiful, and already powerfully aroused. Darkness a cloak around us, he deepened the kiss, throat grumbling with pleasure.
“As delicious as this is,” I murmured, my own breath ragged, “getting arrested for public indecency isn’t how I’d like to spend the evening.”
His teeth found my earlobe, tugged. “The Pack won’t report me. And even if they did, it would be worth every damned second.”
I had absolutely no doubt, and felt like I was riding a wave of magic, of infatuation.
No, that wasn’t fair. This wasn’t either of those things. It was simpler and more complex.
It was love.
Connor kept staring at me with that look on his face. The look of victory—and anticipation.
“What?” I asked, feeling defensive.
“Is there anything else you’d like to say?”
I narrowed my eyes; Connor just beamed. “Do you want to say it at the same time?” he asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. “And even if I did, I wouldn’t agree to that deal because I’d end up putting myself out there and you’d say you like graphic novels or pickles or carburetors or something.”
“That’s quite a list,” he said, lips twitching. “And I think an attack on my character.”
“Well deserved,” I said dryly, but kept looking at him, kept smiling at him. Kept marveling that we’d gotten here. And could see the same wonderment in his eyes.
