“Do you ever read those medical articles in magazines? What they claim will heal you today they swear will kill you tomorrow. Who’s to say I’m wrong? And if I am, by some miracle, wrong —” he shrugged “— give me twenty-four hours.”
All those articles were hooey, in my opinion, but Rixton was a magazine connoisseur, and I wasn’t about to pick a fight with him over his choice of reading material. “What about those thirty-two-ounce sodas you knock back with your meal?”
“Shh.” He mimed zipping his lips. “We don’t talk about that.”
Sagging under the weight of the donuts, and my guilt, I let him off with a warning. “Be careful out there.”
“I always am.” He pointed at me. “You be careful in there. Take my advice. Pry that guy off your sofa before he asks for his own toothbrush to keep in your bathroom.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Later, Bou-Bou.”
The annoyance usually sparked by that particular nickname never surfaced. Its days were numbered after all.
Santiago held the door open for me, hoping to relieve me of my burden, but I carried the box straight to the couch. Sinking down beside Miller, I passed him the first of nine donuts. “Would a sugar coma be a step up or a step down from where you are now?”
“I’m willing to find out.” He smashed the whole thing in his mouth and pleaded with his eyes for another, which I had prepped and ready to press into his hand. “Thom? Santiago? You guys want to grab one before they’re gone?”
Thom accepted one, careful to pinch it between two fingers. Sniffing around its edges, he licked the icing off the top, then sat the otherwise untouched pastry on the coffee table while he cleaned his hands with a moist towelette he pulled from his pocket.
Santiago polished his off in two bites. Without missing a beat, he scooped up Thom’s and finished it too. When he caught me staring, he wiped his hands clean. “Do you have any idea how much of his saliva I’ve had in my body at this point? He could probably transfuse me with the stuff. Sharing food with him won’t kill me.”
“Have you guys already hashed out what happened?” I passed Miller his third. “What did I miss?”
“We waited for you,” he said around a mouthful of dough. “Cole ordered a late breakfast for four from the Waffle Iron. He ought to be back any minute.”
I cued up another donut. “Am I one of the four, or should I take what I can get?”
“You’re one of us,” Thom assured me. “Cole would stay, but he must return to Portia.”
I mouthed thank you for telling me what I couldn’t help wanting to know without making me ask.
“What’s in the folder?” Santiago nodded toward my side. “You’re going to cut off circulation in your arm if you don’t ease up on the clamp action soon.”
“They’re crime scene photos from the Orvis fire down in Madison.” I placed them on the coffee table. “Wu requested I obtain all the copies Rixton and I are responsible for so I can hand them over to him.”
“Same ones you sent us?” Santiago waited on my nod of confirmation. “The adult female is a textbook example of how viscarre clean out their victims. I can see why he’d want those out of human hands, not that pictures will do them much good without the bodies to go along with them.”
Thankfully, that threat had already been eliminated. “The bodies never made it to the coroner’s office.”
“Way ahead of you.” Shades of his Grinchiest smile returned. “They were incinerated about six hours ago according to the timestamp on the security feed I was watching.”
“I’m not going to ask.” I pinched the stretchy fabric of my cat burgling pants. “I’m a cop for a couple more weeks. Let me enjoy walking the straight and narrow while I can. After Wu gets ahold of me, I get the feeling my moral compass will be spun.”
“To accomplish any good in this world or any other,” Thom said, “you sometimes must do bad things.”
“Listen to the fortune cookie.” Santiago swiped a donut faster than I could pop his hand. “The only way we stay alive on this terrene is to keep hidden. Someone blabs, and we’re toast. Most terrenes are tolerant of other charun, if not welcoming, but this one is peculiar in that there are no native charun. There are only humans and what comes from mixing species.”
“Why would Earth be the exception?” I wondered. “Are there other… beings… here?”
The men all got busy looking somewhere else.
Lucky for them, the front door chose that moment to open, and a tailor-made distraction waltzed through looking better than anything that might be in the bags he carried.
“Cole,” Miller called in welcome. “Glad you’re back.”
“Food,” Santiago echoed. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Thom ducked his head in apology for the evasion, but I didn’t have time to dwell because breakfast was incoming, and the guys were falling on Cole like lions on a gazelle. As he pressed a box in my hands, my stomach growled its own welcome to him.
“I got you a breakfast bowl with double meat and added cheese in your grits.” He made a second trip onto the porch and returned with a drink holder brimming with a variety of lattes, black coffees, and other assorted wake-up juices. Saving me for last, he passed me a nondescript cup. “It’s a surprise.”
Intrigued, I took a hesitant sip, moaned, then licked an icy sweetness from my lips. “What is this magical creation?”
“The barista recommended it for coffee drinkers with a sweet tooth.” He sipped his – plain black – and watched me have another taste. “Cold-brewed iced coffee mixed with espresso granita and topped with homemade vanilla bean ice cream.”
“It’s delicious.” A thought struck me, and I set my goodies on the coffee table while I darted up to my room. I came back down and pressed a fifty-dollar bill into Cole’s palm. “There’s your tip, delivery boy.”
Cole looked like he might protest until he noticed the crisp lines where the intricate folds used to tuck. “Are you sure you want to give this up?” Rough, his voice was so rough. And uncertain. I both loved and hated having that effect on him. “The bracelet was a gift. You don’t owe me anything.”
I gave his words from the swamp back to him. “I know.”
But taking that ring from Wu, letting him slide it on my finger, had injured Cole in the same way hearing a woman’s voice, soft from sleep, had wounded me.
Expecting him to pocket the cash, I gasped when he shredded the bill into confetti then dusted his hands over the dregs of his coffee. I got the feeling if I’d had a fireplace, he would have tossed the whole thing in there for good measure.
“What did Ulysses S. Grant ever do to you?” I couldn’t fight the laugh hitching my chest. “Was that really necessary?”
“Yes,” he said, tossing back his cup and drinking it all down. “It was.”
So this must be the modern day equivalent of when dragons of old scorched their enemies’ bones before grinding them to dust between their teeth. Maybe it aided digestion. Or maybe Cole was caving to his instincts in a way that left my new partner breathing. For now.
Settling back into my spot on the floor next to Miller, I took a sip of my drink and noticed all eyes on us. “Do you guys want a sip?”
“Nope,” Santiago said, making a popping sound with the P.
“I don’t enjoy coffee.” Thom shook his head. “I prefer milk steamers.”
Miller was the last man standing, well, laying. “I’m good with my orange juice.”
“All right.” I dug into my meal and let their stares bounce off me. “Don’t say I didn’t offer.”
Done exacting his revenge, Cole sank into Dad’s ancient recliner, which groaned in panic at its current circumstances. I really had to invest in some Cole-friendly furniture for the place. Not that we would be around long enough to get much use out of it, but I would visit often. That much I could guarantee Kapoor. He would get his month, but after that, I wanted regular off days and vacation time nailed down so I could coordinate with Dad.