“Do you want more eggs, dear?” Vera asked.

Grud handed her his plate. “More hash browns and sausages too.”

Regrettably, it was time to say goodbye to home-cooked meals and to having two personal servants at his disposal.

Yesterday evening, he’d gone to the club Wonder worked security at. When he couldn’t find her, he’d asked the barman about her.

“A vacation,” the guy had said while looking Grud over suspiciously.

After that, he’d sat down, ordered a drink, and thralled the waitress who’d delivered it.

“Witness protection,” the woman had said, adding that it was a secret and that Wonder’s life might be in danger.

With the barman still eyeing him suspiciously, Grud couldn’t have kept her talking for too long, so he’d ordered another drink, and then another, and each time had probed a little further.

“Here you go, dear.” Vera put a heaping plate in front of him, then waited.

“Thank you,” he growled at her. It was better to say the words and get rid of the old crone rather than suffer her annoying presence.

“You’re welcome.”

Crap, she’d ruined his concentration. Grud forked a sausage and stuffed it in his mouth.

The waitress had told him about two police detectives who had been asking everyone at the club questions about their redheaded friend. They’d also questioned Wonder.

Had they been Dur’s buddies from his spy unit?

Was that how they’d found the facility? By following Wonder?

Grud doubted she’d caved under questioning. That female was too tough for that.

Over the last drink, he’d also discovered that the redhead, aka Dur, and his partner had come to the club before, asking about suspicious characters.

Like who?

Who had Dur and his partner been looking for?

Was it part of their spying activity?

Had Dur been working undercover as a police detective?

None of that made any sense.

The bottom line was that Wonder was gone and he wasn’t going to find her because none of her coworkers knew where she was.

Which meant that there was no reason for him to stay away from the Brotherhood. Grud was smart enough to realize that he was in over his head and that he wasn’t good at detective work.

It was better to stick to what he knew, which was taking orders and doing what he was told. There were worse fates than that. At least in the Brotherhood, he was part of something. Being on his own in a world full of humans wasn’t how he wanted to spend his immortal life.

If he had the female, it would’ve been a different story. But that wasn’t going to happen.

The question was what to tell his commanding officer when he called. It was best to stay as close to the truth as possible. He just had to come up with a good excuse for why he hadn’t reported immediately and had waited until the third day after his escape.

Gommed would demand to know what had taken him so long.

“Are you done, dear?” Vera looked at his empty plate. “Do you want anything more?”

“That will be all.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin and dropped it on the dining room table. “Where is Harold?”

“He is in the kitchen. Do you want me to call him for you?”

He waved a hand. “Harold! Get in here!”

It took the old man a couple of minutes to get up and shuffle his feet to the dining room.

“Sit down!” Grud pointed to a chair. “You too.” He pointed at Vera.

When the two humans were seated, Grud got up and put his hands on the table. “Look into my eyes,” he said, imbuing his voice with command. “Forget that you ever saw me. I was never here. You are going to sit here and not get up until the clock over there shows ten o'clock. Nod if you understand.”

The couple nodded like zombies. A little drool started running down Harold's mouth.

It was the old man’s fault. If he weren’t such a tough cookie, Grud would not have used such brute force to manipulate his brain. The guy had probably suffered permanent brain damage.

Grud collected his new wallet, which now contained several thousand dollars and the couple’s credit cards, his new twelve-hundred dollar phone and Vera’s car keys, and headed out.

It wasn’t until he’d driven all the way to the city that he stopped at a supermarket parking lot and pulled out his phone.

“Yes?” His commander answered after several rings.

“It’s Grud, Sir.”