Chapter 25
At the meat counter, Savon waited for the butcher to fill her order of lamb chops. She turned to Nate. “So, how was your day?”
Nate rubbed at his neck and looked down an aisle.
Gray-blue of doubt rolled through his aura.
“Talk to me. What happened?” she demanded.
“Needed answers, crossed lines I never thought I would, and I think your brother might be afraid of me.”
“What the hell happened?”
He met her gaze and shook his head. “This conversation can wait for the car.”
Savon looked around. There were several wolves in the grocery store. He was right. “We’ll come back to that. Other than that portion of your day, what’s going on with you?”
“That was my day, except when I was with you.” Nate smiled at the butcher.
Savon took the package of meat. “Thank you.” She placed it in the cart and went to the produce section for a few more things.
She couldn’t help wondering what he’d done to look so torn. Then she realized what might bother him.
Clay.
What the hell had her doctor done?
And discussing it around other werewolves with super-sensitive hearing couldn’t be wise. Man, she hoped he wasn’t changing for her.
Nate tried to reach for his wallet at the checkout counter. She grabbed his hand. “My treat.”
“You’re having a lot of people over. Some of which aren’t your friends.”
“Yeah, who? Robert and Preston? You aren’t friends with either of them.”
“Evangeline,” Nate corrected.
She smirked. “After this afternoon, I think it’s safe to call her a friend. Let me deal with dinner. You can do it next time.”
“What happened with her?”
“We had a good talk on the way from her café.”
He chuckled. “That’s a relief.”
“And it helps that she has a thing for Bran.”
“Wait, what?” he asked.
She glanced back and shrugged. “Figure it might take a little work, but they’ll be next to mate.” She paid the cashier and out the doors they went.
He helped her load the trunk and took the cart back before she could argue. She slipped into the driver’s seat, and he joined her.
She took his hand. “What happened today? Was it something to do with Clay?”
“Yeah, tore into him to get information.” He glanced at his hands with a sigh. “Bran had every right to freak out on me. I shifted and nearly ripped Clay’s guts out. Then made Bran hold him together while I sewed him up.”
Savon’s lips quirked. “What did he do to deserve that?”
“He didn’t do a damned thing at the time, but Bran told me what he planned to do to you. He’s never touching you.”
“Thank you.” She leaned over and placed a tender kiss on his lips.
“You aren’t shocked? Disgusted? Worried I’ll turn into my father?”
“Not in the slightest. You’re worried about that, which is the first sign you’re nothing like him. Second, and you need to understand this, I’ve done worse. Never without reason, but I can be downright scary when I need to be.”
“What’s the worst thing you’ve done?” he asked.
She winced. “Burned a vampire alive until he gave me the key to release a friend. Bastard was stubborn. Lost an arm and a leg. He gave it up when I got to his balls. I killed him anyway.”
“For a friend?”
Nodding, she shrugged. “Not a boyfriend. A friend.” She didn’t bother to mention the casual sex. That didn’t seem important.
“Do that kind of stuff often?”
“Sort of. Wasn’t all the time, but often enough to consider it a part-time job.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
“Not full-time. I need my time to create.” She released his hand to start the Jeep. “You afraid now?”
“No. Like I said, the important stuff hasn’t changed. You have a sense of justice and you follow your heart.”
“You did the same. Even if you aren’t comfortable with it now.”
“Does it get easier?”
“What? Hurting someone to get to the bottom of something? As long as they are guilty, yes. If it were an innocent, then I can’t imagine that ever feeling good. Not for you, not for me.”
“He wanted to take you from me. Just the thought sent me over the edge.”
A smile graced her lips. “Yeah, well, I’d do worse if our situations were switched.”
He wrapped his hand around her thigh. “I really don’t have to worry about you, do I?”
“Generally, no. Right now, probably. I don’t plan on going out on my own. Not until this is over.”
“I can’t lose you again.”
“You won’t.” She drove them back to her house and looked over with a smile. “And for the record, Clay couldn’t have entered my home. He couldn’t have stepped on the porch. He would have received one hell of a shock.”
“Why were Tremaine’s mage pals able to get on your porch?”
“They were with him. Had they been alone, they wouldn’t have.”
“And how many do you trust?”
“Not many. I did adjust my wards after Evangeline dropped me off to allow her in.”
“And Jay and his crew?”
“I didn’t put the wards up until after everyone left.”
“You didn’t lock me off your property.”
“Thought about it. But you did take care of me that first night. As much as I hurt seeing you in the flesh, part of me wanted to fall into you. I was scared.”
“No more fear. Not about me.”
“None,” she promised. What they shared was much more than what they had when they were kids.
* * * *
Savon gracefully moved around her kitchen like an expert. He was surprised because he didn’t have the first clue what to do with lamb.
She didn’t even complain when he stood there, transfixed, watching her every movement.
He lost himself in self-reflection. Savon was right. He’d been justified, even if his choice of action had been extreme.
The bell rang. Savon smiled over her shoulder as she chopped the salad. “Mind getting that?”
Dipping his head, he trailed his fingers across her back where her shirt rose slightly to reveal the tempting slice of flesh. He kissed her shoulder. “Sure.”
Evangeline stood on the porch, in front of Bran. She seemed far more comfortable around him than usual.
Nate had to wonder why. One more thing he should have asked Savon while he had the chance.
“Evening, Nate. You okay?” Evangeline asked.
Nate looked over her shoulder at Bran and made eye contact.
Bran nodded, no longer looking at him like he was the Antichrist. “We’re good, man. Needed a little perspective.”
“Then I’m good. Come in.” Nate stepped aside and they both entered.
Nate walked back to the kitchen to carry everything to the table. She had the whole meal covered.
Bran laughed. “When did you learn to do all this?”
She shrugged. “Spent a lot of time with a chef. Learned a ton.”
Don’t want to know, Nate reminded himself.
They settled into dinner, and Nate insisted on cleaning, since he insisted on helping, then hadn’t. Bran joined him and they fell into their normal banter. He could almost forget the shitstorm brewing on the horizon.