Austin pointed his finger. “If you so much as put one fang on her—”
Atticus laughed, his eyes shaping into crescent moons. “I assure you they’ll stay retracted. Blood can be an addiction for the weak, but we both know I don’t require blood to survive. As it so happens, I haven’t had a drink recreationally for seven years now. I only do it when someone hires me to read information, but that’s a rare request since charming them does the trick most of the time. Not all Vampires are very gifted in that arena. I give you my word. I won’t use any of my gifts on Lexi, nor would I drink from her. She’s…”
Austin’s jaw set. “She’s what?”
I reached out and touched Atticus’s hand. “I think I know.”
He inclined his head and left the room.
Once Atticus was out of sight, Austin gave me a skeptical appraisal. “What was all that touchy-feely about?”
I admonished him with a look. “Shhh. He can still hear you.”
People had to prove themselves to a man like Austin, but I knew in time he’d warm up to our new employee.
I released my hold and lowered my voice. “I used to think he came in for the cookies, but something else keeps him coming back. Kindness. People treat Vampires like trash because they’re afraid of them. No, maybe not them. They’re afraid of their gifts. Isn’t that the way humans treated Breed back in the day when they knew of our existence? Each time he comes into the shop, I look him straight in the eye and ask how his day’s going. I treat him like a person. That’s why he respects me. Everything’s going to be fine. It’s a good idea to have someone looking out for me when you’re not there; I can’t risk shifting with the baby. Besides, rogues wouldn’t expect a Vampire to fight for us.”
“And you trust being alone with him day and night?”
I chuckled and then covered my mouth before it erupted into my embarrassing Beaker laugh. “No, honey. I’m not going to make the poor man pitch a tent at Sweet Treats and sell us his soul. I only work long hours because of the prep work, and if he can do all that, I can focus on brokering deals with new clients. The Relic encouraged me to stay active.”
“Maybe you should take a year off.”
I tugged the belt loop of his pants. “Come on, Mr. Cole. Let’s see our guest out.”
He popped me playfully on the behind, and I squealed, padding across the room ahead of him. I glanced over my shoulder and he stalked toward me—eyes dark with desire.
We entered the living room and noticed Wheeler sitting on the staircase, chewing on a piece of jerky. “Who’s the fang?”
“How did you know he was a Vamp?” I asked.
Wheeler worked his jaw a few times and swallowed. “Nobody has eyes that black. Plus, he has that holier-than-thou walk.”
I snorted. “You’re one to talk.”
“So, who is he?”
Austin opened the closet door and reached for his jacket. “Lexi’s new employee at Sweet Treats.”
“Get the fuck out.”
I gave Wheeler a scathing glance. “Don’t you dare come into my shop and act like a jerk. He’s a good guy, and with everything going on, he’ll be extra protection. Austin has enough to worry about.”
“I’m sure the pack war is itching to start with a battle cry in a pastry shop,” he remarked, chewing on another bite of meat.
“Shows what you know. You’ve never been there on a ‘buy one get one free’ day.”
The door suddenly flew open and hit the wall. Austin shielded me with his arm, and we turned to look as a cool draft rushed inside.
Reno filled the doorway, naked and slathered in mud.
Wheeler chuckled darkly. “If cleanliness is next to godliness, then you’re going to hell.”
A fat drop of mud slid off his chin and onto my wood floor. “Ben’s back.”
I drew in a sharp breath.
“What do you mean, Ben’s back?” Wheeler ground out.
Austin had thrown Ben out of the pack years ago after he made a decision that subjected Wheeler to captivity and almost resulted in his and Naya’s death. I stood behind Austin’s decision because we couldn’t afford to have someone in the pack who not only might bring us down financially because of his gambling addiction, but who also had a blatant disregard for anyone’s safety except for his own. I loved Ben—we all did. We kept our doors open to him, but he never came by. Family functions were awkward, and sometimes we glimpsed him standing at a distance before he left. It broke my heart, because in all the years that had gone by, we still felt his absence.
“Can you put something on before this turns into a long conversation?” I asked.
Reno reached in the closet and dug around, mumbling some obscenities.
“Don’t get our coats dirty,” I said, shielding my eyes.
I heard coat hangers sliding around, and when the door closed, I braved a peek through my fingers. Reno had snapped open an Oriental folding fan and splayed it in front of his crotch.