“Here is your coffee.” Bridget handed Turner the paper cup. “Black, no sugar added.”

“Thank you.”

She sat down on the other side of the large table they shared, unwrapped her muffin and took a bite. “Are you sure you don’t want some? It’s big. I’m not going to finish it all by myself.”

Turner eyed the pastry.

It had been so long since he’d allowed himself a taste that he wasn’t craving it anymore. The one thing that still gave him trouble was fresh bread. Especially a baguette. That was why he always refused bread in restaurants. If it was on the table, he knew he would have a hard time saying no.

“I’m good. Did you stop by Julian’s on the way?” She’d been gone much longer than a trip to the café and back justified.

“No, I went to see Kian.”

“About?”

“Your transition. I’ve been waiting patiently for him to tell us when, but I ran out of patience.”

Turner had been waiting too, but he figured that there was no sense in bugging Kian about it. The man had offered his help, which was incredibly generous of him.

Whenever Kian was ready to do it, was fine by him.

On the one hand, the waiting was stressful, but on the other hand, Turner was enjoying his time with Bridget and was in no hurry to end it. A few more days would make no difference health-wise.

But if Kian had changed his mind, choosing someone else to do the honors was an option.

As long as it wasn’t Spivak, Turner didn’t care who did it. And if Spivak were the only one available, he would swallow his pride and agree to his former subordinate’s bite.

“What did he say?”

“He wants to do it after Eva’s wedding. He says he is too busy now.”

“That’s fine. Are you sure he still wants to do it, though? I don’t want to impose. Any other immortal male would do.”

Bridget shook her head. “No. That’s where you’re wrong. Kian’s venom is the most potent. He is your best chance.”

“Just because he is Annani’s son doesn’t mean that he is the best one for the job.”

“Trust me, he is. Roni was induced three times before Kian finally did it. First was Andrew, then Onegus, and then Brundar. All of those attempts failed.”

“But you said that he didn’t transition before because he was sick. When Kian did it, Roni was healthy.”

“This is correct. But I also asked Roni to describe the four different experiences. He said that the difference between Kian and the other three was like the difference between weed and acid. No comparison.”

Turner arched a brow. “And he would know that how? Roni doesn’t strike me as a drug addict. He is too smart for that.”

Bridget waved a hand. “Of course he is not. He could not have tried anything even if he wanted to. It’s not like he was free to do as he pleased while being locked up. He used the comparison to illustrate, imagining the difference. There are enough references in literature and movies to draw on.”

Turner had spent some time exploring the subject. It wasn’t as straightforward as that. “Even so, what he described was the euphoric effect. That’s just one part of what the venom does. The other properties of Kian’s venom may or may not be more powerful than that of other immortal males. Take Yamanu for example. He is not a direct descendant of the goddess and yet he is the most powerful mind manipulator of the entire clan. Stronger than Kian. The same might be true of the venom. Some random clansman no one thinks much of could have the most potent one.”

Listening to him with a little smirk on her face, Bridget crossed her arms over her chest. “I see that you’ve been busy, Victor. Who did you interrogate to get this information?”

She’d caught him.

Oh, well, it wasn’t as if he had done something he wasn’t supposed to. Asking questions was not against the rules, and the information had been volunteered freely.

“Your Anandur is a fountain of gossip. Once I started him talking, I couldn't shut him up even if I tried. Suffice to say that I didn’t. In less than an hour, I learned from him more about the clan than from you the entire time we’ve been together.”

She pursed her lips. “That’s because when we are together, we have more important things to do than gossip.”

“True.” He smiled and reached for her hand across the table. “How about we get to those more important things right now. I vote for taking the rest of the day off.”

Bridget laughed. “I wish.”

“It’s already four o'clock. We can go home, do some of those important things, and then put in more work. After all, we live in the age of virtual workplaces and your boss doesn’t mind where we do it as long as it’s done.”

“I have a better idea. Let’s lock the door and put this nice sturdy table to good use.”

Turner eyed the table. In a pinch it would do, but he would’ve preferred the big comfortable bed they had at home. Except, he didn’t want to sound like an old fart who wasn’t up to the challenge.

“Julian is a few doors over. Aren’t you worried he might overhear us?”

“The classrooms have excellent soundproofing. And I can put a post-it on the door with a do not disturb written on it.”

Damn, he needed a better excuse.

“Wouldn’t it be like advertising what we are doing in here?”

Bridget shrugged. “I don’t care. We are both adults. We can do whatever we want.”

Eying the table again, he was reminded of the fantasy he’d had not so long ago about Bridget bent over the exam table in her clinic, wearing her doctor’s coat with nothing underneath it.

This wasn’t the clinic, and the wooden table didn’t have padding like the one in her exam room, but there was one part of the fantasy he could have.

“Is there any way you can get your doctor’s coat from the clinic?”

She arched a brow. “Why?”

“I fantasized about bending you over your exam table.”

“In my white coat?”

He nodded. “And nothing underneath it.”

“Kinky,” she purred. “Don’t move an inch.” She pointed a finger at him. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“I’ll write the post-it note.”