He looked up, let his gaze pass around the room. “The house is pretty good, right?” That this man, strong and powerful, wanted me to approve of the den he’d made, nearly made up for the secrecy.

“It’s gorgeous.”

He looked inordinately relieved. “Good,” he said with a nod. “Good.”

My screen buzzed, and I pulled it out, anticipating a new horror. And found an alert I’d set the day before. “Damn it. I need to feed the starter.”

He blinked. “Is that a sex thing?”

The laughter bubbled out of me, loosening the tension around my heart. And I caught the glint in his eyes. “You own a restaurant,” I said. “Of course you know what a starter is.”

“I do, because Georgia taught me.” A shadow crossed his face, probably a memory of the very dysfunctional den of shifters in Minnesota, where she lived. “When did you bring it?”

“It was in my duffel bag when we left the loft. It’s now in a jar in the refrigerator.”

“Sneaky.” He frowned. “I don’t know if we have flour. I ordered a bachelor kit, but I’m not sure what’s in it.”

“You—” I shook my head to clear it. “You ordered a ‘bachelor kit’?” The images that moved through my head were decidedly not safe for work.

“Of food,” he said. “Local mom-and-pop store sells themed grocery bundles.”

“And bachelor includes . . . ?”

“A beginner’s kit of cooking supplies,” he said and flicked a finger down my chin at the relief on my face. “You have an admirably dirty mind.”

“It’s called a bachelor kit. If I’d ordered a bachelorette kit, what would you have imagined?”

His grin was wide and smug. “Many things, Lis. Many things.”

I skimmed my fingertips across his bare abdomen, watched the muscles flex in response.

“Be careful,” he said, lips near my ear. “If you start something, I will see it finished.”

I cast a glance to the stairs; I assumed his bedroom was up there somewhere.

And then Lulu walked in and made directly for the refrigerator.

Connor’s sigh was haggard. “Bell.”

She grunted.

Alexei followed, took an apple from a basket on the counter. He tossed it in the air, caught it with his teeth, crunched.

“Nice trick, tabby,” Lulu said, having plucked a bottle of juice from the fridge.

“Panther,” Alexei said. “You wanna see?”

“No,” she said, but her cheeks were pink when she looked at me and Connor. “Everybody good in here?”

“Fine,” I said. “You?”

“Heading to work.”

“Alexei,” Connor said, without taking his eyes from Lulu. “Go with her.”

“With me?” Lulu said, moving toward them. “Oh, no. Absolutely not.”

“You need protecting.”

Lulu spun, turned to Alexei. “I don’t need anything from you. I need to work, and having someone hanging over me isn’t exactly helpful. Plus, the clients aren’t going to want some random guy hanging around.”

“Someone is stalking Elisa,” Connor said. “And the AAM thinks she killed Blake. They’d probably be happy to take you instead, and use you for leverage. Let’s not take the chance. He won’t get in your way.”

Lulu snorted. “He is in my way by his very existence.”

“That hurts me right here,” Alexei said dryly, mimicking pulling a knife from his chest. “Magic would be handy. And without it, weapons.”

Lulu’s eyes flashed with temper. “I’m not using magic. You’re insufferable.”

“You’re stubborn.”

“I have work. And I’m not going back on a contract because goddamned vampires are fighting again.” Her hands were clenched into fists, her teeth bared.

“Take him or stay here,” I said. “Your life is worth more to me than your anger.”

She grumbled, exhaled loudly. And for a brief moment, I knew how my mother felt when I was a teenager.

“And you’re going to be late if you don’t get moving,” Connor said.

She made a little scream. Then pulled the cap from the juice bottle and drank, throat bobbing, until she’d finished nearly half of it.

Alexei watched her with avaricious eyes.

When she stopped, she ran the back of her hand across her mouth, recapped the bottle. “Hangry,” she said, when she’d returned it to the fridge. “Still pissed at all three of you, but at least I won’t be hangry anymore.”

Connor smiled thinly. “We’ll take whatever miracle we can get.”

* * *

* * *

Connor had arranged a driver for me—We protect each other, I thought again—just as he’d arranged protection for Lulu. That might have felt stifling, but he hadn’t demanded I stay in the town house. Probably knew that would have resulted in more angry words, as it wasn’t the right thing for me.

I climbed into the front seat of the SUV, found Daniel at the wheel. He wore a dark V-neck sweater and slacks today, his dark hair pushed behind his ears. “Good evening.”

I felt a pulse of guilt that I’d inconvenienced yet another person. “I guess you lost another bet?”

“You need security,” he said. “And I need to learn the city.”

“And do a favor for an Apex candidate.”

“Vampires are strategic. But also, yes. Where shall I take you?”

“To the Ombuds’ office, please. You know the address?”

“I do.” He pulled into the street and turned on the radio. The song that emerged was slow and seductive.

Connor trusted me a lot, I thought with a smile, and relaxed into the seat for the ride.

* * *

* * *

We stopped for pastries at a diner not far from the brick factory, a place where Theo and I had grabbed truly atrocious coffee a dozen times while investigating. The memory clutched at my heart—and strengthened my resolve. I had to finish this. Deal with the AAM and get back to work.

There were no vampires lurking over the doughnuts, and no sign of the AAM in the small parking lot outside the guarded gate at the brick factory; and in the unlikely event they’d been invited inside, someone would have told me.

“Thank you for the ride,” I said, as I slid from the car.

“Would you like me to stay?” he asked.

“No, thank you. I’ll get a ride back. And if he asks, yes, I’ll be careful.”

His smile was wide now. “I’ll tell him you said so. Good luck,” he said, and he waited until I’d made it through the gate. I waved back, watched as he drove off toward one of his rendezvous.

The parking lot was empty but for a white sedan. No sign of the AAM or its member vampires. Stupid enough to loiter outside the Pack’s enclave, but not the OMB? It was a very strange line to draw.

I walked toward the building, decided it was a good night for beautiful men as another came toward me. This one was tall and on the lean side, with suntanned skin, golden hair, whiskey eyes, and a faint sense of magic. Probably related to the sharp cheekbones and slightly pointed ears. I’d have said they were elvish, but that came from fairy tales and preconceptions. I’d heard there were elves in Chicago, a small and tightly knit group that generally avoided contact with other Sups—primarily because they believed themselves superior to others—but I’d never met one before.

The man wore perfectly tailored trousers, paired with a white button-down shirt that skimmed his trim torso, along with the strap of a gray messenger bag. He made eye contact, his smile vague and distracted. Then something flickered in his face, and he offered a tentative smile. “Elisa Sullivan?”

“Yes?” I asked cautiously, my guard already up.

His smile was brilliant, and undeniably beautiful. “I’ve been hoping to meet you.”

The smile, the words, sent a shudder through me. Was it a coincidence the note I’d received had said something similar? Or was I now being paranoid?

“Oh?” I asked, as blandly as I could manage.

“Jonathan Black,” he said and offered a hand. I shook it and felt nothing unusual in the warmth of his hand beyond the faint tingle of his magic.

“In addition to being half elf,” he said, “I’m an attorney. I represent various interests in Chicago, most of them supernatural. Your work stopping the fairies was greatly appreciated.”

“Interests?” I asked.

“Sorry,” he said with an apologetic smile. “Their identities are confidential. But you saved them a lot of trouble and expense—not to mention loss of life—by sparing Chicago returning to a more rural existence. You’re owed a boon.”

“I didn’t help with the fairies in order to collect a debt.”

His smile was broad and generous. “I know. That’s why they’ll give it to you.”

I cocked my head at him. “That was weeks ago. Why are you telling me this now?”

That smile erupted into laughter, full-bodied and contagious. I couldn’t help but smile, too. “In addition to being naturally suspicious, Sups are very stubborn folk, especially the older ones. They’re more accustomed to getting their way. It took some . . . convincing . . . for them to appreciate my argument. I was actually planning to send you a letter—to formally acknowledge the debt.”

“I appreciate the offer, but that’s unnecessary.”

He winced. “But it took me so long to convince them,” he said with a slightly pouty smile that I bet worked wonders on the dating scene.

Then his eyes widened, and his gaze went a little vague.

“Are you okay?” I asked him.

“What?” He blinked. “Yes, sorry. I had meetings just after dusk and haven’t eaten yet, and my mind tends to wander when I’m hungry.” He pointed at the box. “And those smell delicious. Doughnuts?”