Jess Haines - Forsaken By the Others

He shrugged at my questioning look and put the phone on the table. “Alec says he’s had a change of plans and will take a little longer than expected. He’ll be back as soon as he can.” At my dispirited nod, he continued. “Don’t look so glum. He’s bringing your friend back with him.”

That got my attention.

“Sara? He’s picking her up?”

“Yes. So no running off while the master is out, eh?”

That wasn’t a moniker I wanted to associate with Royce anywhere other than in my head, but the thought of seeing Sara again had me too happy to be upset about it. I grinned and leaned across the table. Wes jerked back from my touch, but I yanked him into an awkward, sideways hug anyway.

Analie, smiling, gave my shoulder a pat. “How about we make some cookies for them while we wait? Christoph and Ashi wanted more of these things Jacques showed me how to make. They’re these cinnamon cream-filled pastries. . . .”

I nodded and rose to join her at the counter, hoping the mundane activities would keep my mind off of all the craziness going on and busy enough until Sara arrived that the passing minutes wouldn’t feel like hours. Doing something so normal might also help distract me from little details. Things like my fellow chef’s being a werewolf, our babysitter’s being a vampire, that we were using a vampire’s kitchen to make goodies for other werewolves who occasionally doubled as walking Slurpees for the vamps, and—say, what did a vampire need a kitchen for, anyway?

A few hours later, Royce returned, and he wasn’t alone. By then, I had tried somewhere in the range of forty to fifty different kinds of cookies and pastries Analie had made. Somehow she got it into her head that all my worries about what was going on internally could be smothered by sugar and chocolate.

And I’ll be damned if she wasn’t right.

By the time Royce entered the apartment with Mouse, Christoph, Ashi, Clarisse, and Sara on his heels, I was near ready to explode from sugar shock. I barely registered the others—seeing Sara for the first time in a month was enough to stun me into immobility. Which is quite something considering how much I had been vibrating from the sugar.

She looked fabulous. Not that she didn’t usually look like every man’s wet dream—damn her frizz-free blond hair, model-perfect body, blue eyes, and perfect skin—but whatever she’d been doing while I was gone really agreed with her. There was something different about her. A blush of health to her cheeks, a sparkle in her eyes, something not entirely tangible that I hadn’t seen before. Even though she was currently frowning and glaring at me from where she’d stopped in the kitchen doorway, giving me a look like I’d kicked her favorite poppy

The others (except for Mouse, of course) had been chattering away, but that died down when I stood and took a few halting steps toward Sara. That awkward silence probably would have lasted longer if I hadn’t thrown my arms around her and hugged her hard enough to force all the air out of her lungs.

She stayed stiff and unyielding at first, but soon gave in and hugged me back as best she could considering how her arms were pinned. Her voice was a bit thick as she wheezed out a few words.

“Don’t you ever run off like that again. You had me worried sick, you bitch.”

All the regret in the world wouldn’t bring back the lost time and resources or reverse the bad decisions I’d made over the last month. It had hurt to leave her behind when I had first abandoned her to Royce, but it hurt even more to know that she’d so easily forgiven me. I squeezed my own eyes shut so I wouldn’t start leaking tears all over her. In the last thirty days, I’d already cried enough to last a lifetime.

“Much as I like seeing two chicks all over each other, you’re blocking the path to the cookies. Mind shoving over?”

Sara and I both made sounds that were a combination snicker and snort, pulling away from each other to give Christoph room to get past us. Mouse gazed after him with a look of mixed dismay and amusement, her hands on her hips. That was when I noticed that all the newcomers, save for Sara and Royce, had returned in clubbing clothes. The leather-and-chains look was pretty distracting now that I’d noticed it, though I did my best to keep my eyes above Ashi’s and Christoph’s belts. Holy wow, could those two pull off leather pants. . . .

Analie was more than happy to stay busy preparing plates of sweets. First one for Christoph, and then one for Ashi, too, once he pulled away from Clarisse’s arm and slipped past Royce with a look of undisguised contempt.

Though I hadn’t dealt with them much on my prior visits, their behavior didn’t come as much of a surprise. The two were werewolves, though relatively harmless since the leather collars around their necks prevented them from shapeshifting. I had never asked for specifics—honestly, I hadn’t even known what they really were until Christoph had told me last night—but the two were almost always hanging out together even though they didn’t seem to like each other very much.

The pair wolfed down the cookies Analie gave them (ha—see what I did there?) as Clarisse and Mouse trailed inside, taking seats at the table with Wes, while Royce leaned against the granite breakfast bar. Seeing as almost all of the seats were taken, Sara and I joined Royce, who pulled out stools for both of us. Sara and I each took a seat, grinning and leaning against each other like a pair of happy drunks. Though she was startled by it, Sara didn’t protest when Royce positioned himself behind us, a hand on either of our shoulders.

Mouse’s hands moved, signing something. Wes, Christoph, and Royce all nodded when she was done.

Wes then glanced in my direction and, for the first time all evening, didn’t look like he wanted to throttle me. Instead, his facial muscles tensed, and the rest of his body went into that unnatural stillness I associated with a vampire experiencing a pang of guilt or discomfort. “You might want to advise them about what’s been happening over the last twenty-four hours.”

“Oh, give it a rest, love. This is just cozy—no time for that sort of talk,” Clarisse said, her green eyes positively gleaming with mischief. “I don’t suppose you’d reconsider, Alec? Just for a few nights.”

“Reconsider what?” I asked.

“Something I’ll discuss with you two later. Privately. ”

Clarisse pouted but didn’t protest, though she was clearly disappointed that she’d be missing out on what I assumed was going to turn into some quality drama the minute Royce dropped whatever bomb he’d saved up for us. The others shrugged and kept quiet as Sara and I exchanged mystified, and slightly alarmed, looks.

The vampire’s grip tightened on my shoulder, as he was probably sensing just how much I was bothered by his decision to wait to tell us whatever the heck it was he was hiding this time. “Try not to worry. I’ve found a way to keep the situation contained. For the most part, everything is under control.”

Sara twisted around to face him, shrugging his hand off her shoulder. “Hiding things from us is not ‘keeping the situation contained.’ If whatever you’re up to involves us, we deserve to know what’s going on.”

Mouse and Clarisse nodded, and Wes shrank down in his seat, while the trio of werewolves watched us with the kind of rapt attention I would expect them to devote to a good movie or daytime TV. Royce was not amused, and his clipped tones reflected that.

“Yes, you do. However, I had thought you might appreciate some time to relax and catch up with each other before discussing business.”

While Sara wilted under the pressure of Royce’s gaze—not that I blamed her, since he was pretty damned scary even when he wasn’t intentionally being so—I didn’t like the idea of backing down so easily. His words might have been thoughtful, but his tone was downright frosty, which told me he was more interested in putting it off than in telling us what was going on. Still, I thought it might be best to tread carefully since I didn’t want to make him genuinely annoyed with us after all he had done.