“I mean, yes, you’re handsome, but I don’t know that you rank up there with gorgeous and amazing.” I couldn’t help but smile, waiting for his reaction to my ribbing.
Connor laughed—a low, warm sound that curled around me like a blanket. He purposely jostled his shoulder into mine, then he paused—his expression frozen—before he abruptly pivoted so he could gape down at me, his dark red eyes slightly widened.
My grin dimmed as I realized his surprise wasn’t dramatized or faked for the fun of it. He was genuinely surprised. Or maybe surprised wasn’t the right word as much as baffled—which was odd, because what did he have to be baffled about over a joke?
It was almost like his own initial reaction bothered him—unless he was just doing this for effect?
“Connor? Are you okay?”
He blinked and my concern grew, until he spoke. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
“It was a joke,” I said.
“That wasn’t a joke. That was striking at every vampire’s weakness: their good looks. That’s it!” Connor declared. “We’re having Humor Camp 101 instead of your next baking attempt. Your sense of humor isn’t just bad, it’s dead. Not dying, but dead.”
“Sure, you can give a lecture as long as you hold my cellphone so I can see the recipe card,” I said.
“Whatever.” Connor’s eyebrows flattened as he pulled his cellphone out of a pocket and studied it. “Have a lovely sprint, Supper, but I’m afraid I must part with you here.”
“Oh.” My good mood chilled—he was leaving? “Weren’t we going to wander downtown once I finished? Or did you get too bored?” I asked.
Connor waggled his phone at me. “No, something came up.” He glanced down at me and smiled, but it was one of the handsome/friendly ones he used on our human neighbors. “I’ll put your backpack and water bottle in the café. The barista won’t care.”
“Okay, thanks!” I glanced at the Café’s glass door. “Hey, do you know if they sell tea in there?”
“They do—loose leaf because fae are snobs about their weed water.” Connor tilted his head and seemed to momentarily settle back into place. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving coffee for tea?”
“No, but I was going to get some tea for a fae,” I said.
“Ah. Then this store’s tea will be adequate.” Connor started to reach towards me but froze with his arm half outstretched, then dropped it. “See you around, Jade.”
“Bye, Connor.” I waved to him as I walked backwards for a few steps, then turned around so I could check for traffic and cross the street.
I was a little disappointed he was leaving, but it was okay. Now after my run—and purchasing tea—I’d be able to head home and make a protein smoothie and finish out today’s training with a good stretch session.
I looked back one last time. Connor—holding my water and with my backpack slung across his back—waved to me, all smiles and charm once again.
Yeah…he has something going on. I was more certain of that now. But I’d gently pushed him for answers, and he’d slithered out of it. I couldn’t force it, so I’d just have to wait until he was ready to share.
I waited at a streetlight for the crosswalk sign to light up.
My time would be better spent trying to pick apart House Tellier’s action. A library fire, lots of monetary donations, and meeting up with other supernaturals? None of it makes sense.
I’d seen another House Tellier wizard meet up with a vampire in September. It probably had nothing to do with their sketchy timeline with the library—unless it did? Maybe they were trying to pull some political maneuvering and were trying to get other races to join them.
The crosswalk sign blinked to life, but I still looked both ways before jogging across it to reach a new block.
I’ve been so focused on the Telliers, I haven’t gotten anywhere with figuring out if Gisila is the real culprit behind Orrin’s attack on Tutu’s or not. There’s so much to do, and it feels like I keep scraping at the issues but never get any real proof.
I shook my head, dislodging my worries as I started regulating my breathing.
I needed to figure those things out, but now it was time to run. I needed to train if I wanted to stay in good enough condition to solve these issues.
I took a deep breath, then started sprinting.
“Trying again?” The female werewolf from the dayshift was once again stationed outside Orrin’s temporary holding room. “He’s still pretty ornery.”
“Yeah.” I uncomfortably held out my paper bag, which was emblazoned with the Queen’s Court Café logo. “I have some tea to give him. Bought it from a café. Sarge cleared it but said you should give it a sniff.” I was speaking too fast—and my sentences were too short. But I was able to give the werewolf a smile that didn’t feel half strangled, so that was something.
“Sure. If it’s enchanted, I’ll be able to smell it. Ma’am,” the werewolf added.
I’d been in the process of handing it over, but at that title of respect I paused and squinted at her through my secured mask.
What the heck. The day squad is picking up on this respect thing? Why? How?
The werewolf took the paper bag and opened it. She took a delicate sniff before sticking her face inside the bag and sniffing again.
She abruptly pulled her face free and sneezed twice. “No magic. But it’s lavender and…green tea?”
“Yes,” I said. “I asked the barista to pick out two popular flavors with fae. He said the green tea is one of their best sellers.”
The werewolf twitched her nose before she folded the top of the bag for me. “And the lavender?”
“The barista said he thinks all fae need to drink lavender tea—he implied that fae are hooked on caffeine and need to detox,” I said.
The werewolf nodded, her expression impassive. “I see. Well, they’re cleared—there are only herbs in the mixes. Let me get the door.” She turned, blocking my view as she lowered whatever extra magical defenses were placed on the room, then pushed the door open for me.
“Thank you,” I tried to make my voice what some of my books about communication describe as ‘warmed with a smile’ since she couldn’t see my face with my mask on.
The werewolf didn’t seem to notice. She slightly bowed her head as I ducked past her and slipped into Orrin’s room.
It looked exactly the same as before—eggshell white walls, a cot with precisely folded blankets stacked on it, a boxy end table, and a coffee machine that was plugged into the sole electrical outlet in the room.
Orrin was seated on the only chair, and he once again was drinking what looked like hot water from a paper to go cup.
Maybe next time I should bring him a thermos—unless that could be counted as a weapon? But they’re letting him brew hot water, which seems more dangerous.
I took a deep breath and tried to tap into my work mode, which would make me feel much less awkward about this. “Hello, Orrin.”
Orrin looked up from his steaming cup. “Vampire-slayer-who-fights-with-vampires.”
I held the paper bag out, which seemed to crinkle extra loud in the tiny, enclosed space. “I brought you some tea.”
Orrin slowly blinked. “What?”