Devon Monk - Stone Cold

“It’s a party for Allie and the baby, son. Not for you.” She set the strawberries on the counter and turned to give me a long look.

Mum was looking good, strong, just a sliver of silver catching in her long red hair, which was pulled back away from her face. She had on jeans, and a dark green sweater over a white T-shirt. Resigning as the head of Blood magic, and spending a few months with her boyfriend, Hayden, in Alaska had done good for her.

I hadn’t seen her happier.

She put her hands on her hips and tilted her head. “You are looking better, Shamus. Whatever you’ve been doing lately, it sits well with you.”

“Clean living and dirty work,” I said. I reached over and popped one of the strawberries in my mouth and moaned a little in amazement. “What’s in this?”

“Cheesecake. No more until after the presents.”

I swiped two more from the platter before she slapped my hands away.

“Hello, Maeve,” Terric said as he finally stepped into the room.

She pointed at me. “There’s a bowl up in that cupboard. Fetch it down. Hello, Terric. How are you?”

“I thought my indentured servitude ended when you kicked me out of the house,” I muttered.

“I kicked you out of the house when you were nineteen,” she said.

“I’m well,” Terric said, a little shakily. “Thank you.”

Pitiful. The man could not lie to save his life.

“Nineteen? You did not.” I handed Mum the glass bowl.

“Yes, I did. You just didn’t listen to me.”

“Pills,” Terric said.

I flipped him off.

“So, is there fun out there?” I grabbed another strawberry while pointing toward the living room. “’Cause the fun in here isn’t.”

Mum swiveled with the tray and dumped the berries into the bowl, her back to me, blocking my reach. I couldn’t count the number of times she’d done that to try to keep me out of her cooking.

Unfortunately for her, I was taller than her now.

“Here,” Terric said, “let me take that for you, Maeve.” He lifted the bowl out of her hands, and out of my reach.

“Teacher’s pet,” I said.

“Thank you, Terric,” she said. “There’s a table set out in the dining room. Just put it down anywhere it fits.”

“Got it,” he said.

I started after him.

“Shamus,” Mum said. “Stay for a cup.”

I stared wistfully after the strawberries but knew better than to push my luck. She had on that serious face that meant we could have this talk either here in the relative privacy of the kitchen or out there in front of everyone.

I poured myself a cup of coffee, added half a cup of cream, and a few tablespoons of sugar.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Mum said as she wiped her hands on a towel and turned to get more food out of the refrigerator. Deli platter. Looked delicious.

“I’ve been avoiding everyone, Mum.” I took a drink of coffee, then walked over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Not long enough for her to feel how cold my skin was, or how completely Death filled the shell of me. “Doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

That made her smile. I pushed the monster further away. Covered it with my best Shame face. Hoped she wouldn’t see what I was now and how much ground I’d lost.

“Well, I’m given to understand people who love each other sit down to dinner every once in a while,” she said. “Come by Friday. Bring Terric.”

“Sure, okay. I’ll do that.” I was so not going to do that.

“Good,” she said. “See that you do. Now, go on.” She nodded toward the living room. “It’s all friends here.”

“I know.” That’s what made this harder. I walked through the door.

The living room was packed with people. Just about every Hound who had stood by Allie when the world had been about to end was lounging around the place.

Jamar, who still rocked the intellectual-tough-guy look, leaned against the bookcase talking to Sid, who was easy to mistake as a typical middle-aged accountant. Theresa and Beatrice were a study of opposites, Theresa being the kind of gal who looked as if she belonged in a military workout video, and Bea flying her boho, bright-colored scarves, frilly skirt, and easy laughter. I didn’t see her whiskey-soaked boyfriend, Jack, around anywhere.

But Sunny was here, lingering in the shadows and giving off leave-me-alone vibes. She had stroked her dark hair back off her face into a single braid down her back. She wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup, had on black jeans, a gray long-sleeve shirt, and a black short jacket. The whole thing together should have made her look badass, which she was because—hello, Blood magic user and head of the Portland Hounds—but as the days and months had marched on without us finding where Eli and the government had taken her boyfriend, Davy, the sorrow was starting to crack her hard exterior, leaving her pale and pained.

All the Hounds except Sunny were holding plates predictably piled high with food. And also predictably, they all glanced up when I walked into the room.

I so hated that.

Dashiell Spade, the guy who used to work for Terric and me, had once said Death magic surrounded me like a dark shadow. He’d said anyone who had a brain in their head could see I was dangerous. Unpredictable.

Something to avoid.

The Hounds had some of the finest-honed survival instincts of any people I’d ever met. It was no surprise they were suddenly alert when I entered the room.

It bugged the hell out of me. I didn’t like being noticed as what I really was unless I wanted someone to notice what I really was.

I didn’t even try to hold up the Shame mask for the Hounds. They’d see right through it.

Instead I just sort of gave them all a nod and pointed at Sid’s plate. “You’d better have left some scraps behind for the rest of us.”

“With your mother in the kitchen?” Sid said with a smile. “The entire city won’t go hungry for a week.”

Sunny just stared at me as though we had unfinished business.

And that would be because we had unfinished business.

Jesus, why had I let Terric drag me here? Weren’t prebaby birthdays supposed to be a girls-only thing?

I looked around so I could complain to him about it. He was across the room talking with Zayvion, and he glanced my way as if I’d called his name.

I hated how much we could feel each other. Hated that we were getting closer and closer every time we used magic together, no matter how much we tried to stay away from each other.

He shook his head and looked away.

My mood, which hadn’t been all that stellar to begin with, took a dive toward the nasty. Time to take my mood outside for a little nicotine therapy. I turned, digging in my pocket for a smoke.

And nearly ran into Allie Beckstrom herself.

“Hey, Shame. Long time.”

The woman was gorgeous. She’d let her hair grow so that it fell in heavy dark waves down below her shoulders. It was tucked back on one side to show the ghostly shadow of the magical marks up by her temple, at the curve of her fuller cheek, and down the side of her face.

“Al,” I said as I tapped a cigarette out of the pack, “you’re looking beautiful, love.”

She raised her eyebrow. “Beautiful for a two-ton freighter?”

I pulled out my lighter and gave her the full up-and-down. She had on slacks and a flowing blue and green shirt that didn’t try to hide the swell of her belly. Seeing her, carrying life, cradling the life she and Zayvion had created, caught me flat-footed. I didn’t have it in me to lie.

“Beautiful, as in absolutely lovely, darlin’. Zay’s a lucky man, and I couldn’t be happier for you both.”

A deep shade of pink raced across her cheeks and she avoided eye contact for a second.