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“Always,” Connor said and leaned over to press a kiss to my temple. “Good work, brat.”
“Thank you, puppy.”
***
Shifters may have been old-fashioned, but their corporate headquarters were uniquely modern. Lots of steel and glass and, thanks to Lulu, a gorgeous mural featuring an abstracted and diverse array of women. The building included a bar and restaurant, the industrial kitchens where they created their meaty fare, and the offices where, one assumed, business was conducted. The entire building had a faint tingle of magic, as if it had suffused the structure, collected in the pores of concrete.
I followed Connor inside, and we were immediately set upon by the scents of smoke and meat and the magic they made together.
A woman in a motorized scooter met us a few steps inside. “Come,” she said, narrowing the eyes that looked at us from beneath a wave of bleached hair. “There is work.”
“Good to see you, too, Aunt Berna,” Connor said, but we followed her down the hallway and into the kitchen, where shifters worked at long stainless steel tables, scooping food into containers or covering disposable pans with foil. But all movement stopped at our appearance in the doorway.
There were nods of acknowledgment for Connor, mostly curious glances at me. A couple of women in the corner lifted their chins defiantly, and I wasn’t sure if that’s because I was a vampire, or because I’d nabbed the prince they’d wanted.
Berna pulled aprons, gloves, and hairnets from a table, shoved them at us. “Put on,” she said dourly. She wasn’t really the convivial sort, but I usually got more than orders from her. And she adored Connor.
Connor watched her for a moment. “Why?” There was no sarcasm in the comment, just an honest inquiry.
“You fight on screen,” she said, looking from Connor to me, then back again. “Vampires make trouble; you join trouble.” She threw up her hands. “And then entire city in trouble. Father says you work.”
“Alexei was there, too,” Connor said.
Berna made a dismissive sound. “Alexei is not nephew,” she said and puttered away.
“Were you able to translate that?” he asked.
“Your father saw video of you fighting the Bureau, and now you’re being grounded. With what smells like brisket.”
Sighing, he looked around. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”
“Who got the video?” I wondered. “I didn’t see anyone with a screen or a camera. Did you?”
“No. Maybe the Grove’s owners?”
“Maybe,” I said, but that didn’t seem to fit with what Petra had told us.
And if shifters had seen the video, it would almost certainly have made its way to vampires. Including my parents. I pulled out my screen, found two messages waiting—one from Lulu, and one from Mom and Dad. There was a world of distance between them, but they’d all seen the fight.
“Damn it,” I muttered. I assured Lulu I was fine and sent my parents a similar message:i’m safe and handling. will call later. love you.
“Everything okay?” Connor asked.
“Parents,” I said, sliding the screen into my pocket again. “What’s going on here?”
Connor moved to a rack on a stainless wall where clipboards hung from two dozen hooks. He glanced over them, flippedthrough the papers on one, then looked back at the tables as if to confirm.
“Big order,” he said. “Delivery’s at dawn for a big conference tomorrow in the Loop. They must have gotten behind.” He rolled his neck, slid me a glance. “You can go. I don’t think even Berna, formidable though she is, has the power to punish you.”
“And your father?” I asked.
He frowned. “That depends on some things. But I’m still thinking it through.”
The kitchen door swung open, and a female shifter walked in. Light brown skin scattered with freckles, dark curls that framed her dark eyes, thick brows. Miranda Mitchell was beautiful, but had an enormous chip on her shoulder about vampires and unrequited feelings for Connor. Those were only two of the apparently myriad reasons she didn’t like me. I couldn’t fault her loyalty to the Pack, but I didn’t usually care for the way she tried to protect it.
“Well, well,” she said, striding toward us. “Look who’s slumming it today,” she said, her dark eyes filled with loathing as she took in what remained of my jumpsuit, jewelry. “Manual labor’s quite a change for you, isn’t it?”
“Miranda,” Connor said pleasantly as he pulled on gloves. “How about you help instead of complaining?”
