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“Any word from Rose?” I asked.
“Nothing yet,” Roger said.
“Damn,” I murmured, and Connor put a hand on my arm, just enough to remind me he was there.
“CPD found nothing on the trail confirming whether Rose had made it or, if she did, where she’d gone. Fortunately, there was no more trouble at the gate overnight. They’ve started shoring up the structure to repair it, with the hope of getting the roads open again in a couple of months.”
Traffic in Chicago was already bad, and a complete shutdown was going to be a nightmare. “I’d like to go back out there tonight, take a look at the scene.”
“I was going to suggest it,” Roger said. “I think Theo probably needs a little time.”
“I’ll go, and I’ll bring a shifter with me.” I lifted my brows in question, and Connor lowered the pillow, nodded.
That had Connor tossing away the pillow, scrubbing hands over his face. “I’ll get a shower,” he said, and climbed out of bed.
“Good plan,” Roger said. “Keep me posted.”
***
Destiny was payment for a debt owed, and she was beautiful. She was the gleaming Italian espresso machine Connor bought as penance for his moving into the town house—and out of his family home—without even telling me.
I was standing at the kitchen island, drinking espresso from a wee cup to prepare for the night, when Connor strolled in, hair still tousled and damp from the shower.
“You’re interrupting my date with Destiny.”
He grunted, pulled an enormous protein drink from the fridge. It looked like a slurry of backyard grass and dirt. “That joke grows staler by the night. And I still can’t believe you named a coffee machine.”
“She’s anespressomachine, and she gives me great pleasure. The least she deserves is a name.” Vampires might be creatures of the night, but we’re also creatures who appreciate caffeine. Destiny satisfied that need. Mostly.
Connor took a drink, then glanced at the size of my cup. “You might as well use a thimble.”
“I’m already jumpy about Rose. This is more than enough. And I don’t own a thimble.” I tilted my head at him. “Do they still even make thimbles? Those are for sewing, right?”
“No idea,” he said.
Since I’d had plenty of blood the night before and wasn’t feeling the need for more right now, I’d toasted an everything bagel. I tore a chunk from the edge, chewed. “Workout wear. Protein drinks. You’re going to ruin your reputation.”
His grin was wild. “Lis, my reputation was ruined a very long time ago in many enjoyable ways.”
He wasn’t wrong. Connor had been the belle of the supernatural ball since he’d been a teenager. There were few eyes—human or Sup—that hadn’t shown their appreciation, and he’d rarely been without a gorgeous girl on his arm.
He took another drink. “How’s the shoulder?”
I rolled it experimentally. “Good. And I didn’t turn rabid or luminescent during the day.”
“That you know of,” he said with amusement. “You could have been a vampiric night-light.”
“I feel like you’d have opened with that if it had happened.”
“And taken pictures and video, and made some very nice royalties.”
“Shifters are always about that hustle.”
He snorted, because hustle was typically not a shifter characteristic. Except where finely smoked meats were concerned. He took my bagel, bit in, then offered it back.
“I’m heading to Cadogan House after Edentown and then to talk to Ariel, if she gets back to me. I can drop you off beforehand if you want.”
“I’ll go with you. I’m curious about dead people, and I like talking to your parents.”
