Page 25 of Cold Curses
“I don’t think anything in particular. Just the usual pre-Apex blues.” She glanced back, used a finger to gesture at me. “And he doesn’t yet know about this. Go take a shower. He’ll keep until you’re done, and he won’t worry so much if you’re clean. But don’t hold up dinner.”
* * *
I did as directed. I showered and changed into soft joggers and a crop top in the same pale green fabric. I let my hair air-dry to save time, given even monster was pinging me about hunger now.
“Working on it,” I murmured, and went downstairs.
When I didn’t find Connor in the den with Alexei, I went outside. Behind the town house was a yard of soft green grass; it was bounded by the brick wall of the building on one side, and covered fences shielded it from view on the others. The space, a rare bit of nature in the rumbling of the city, was one of the reasons he’d bought this place.
Fall was setting in, and the grass was beginning to yellow. Connor sat in an Adirondack chair in the middle of the lawn, hands crossed behind his head as he looked up at the sky. Not many stars were visible inside Chicago city limits, but a few were bright enough to overcome the electric competition.
“Pensive” is how I’d have described him, and that wasn’t his usual style.
He held out a hand as I approached, and when I took it, pulled me into the chair on top of him. I relaxed against his chest, breathed in his magic, and buried myself in his warmth. (Admittedly, the crop top was a questionable choice for an outdoor excursion.)
“You okay?” I asked.
“Just taking a moment. You smell nice.”
“I used your shampoo.”
He snorted. “That explains the forest pine scent.” Then he went still. “Why did you shower?”
“Cleanliness is next to godliness?”
“Elisa.”
“We’ll get to that,” I promised. “Let’s just have the moment.” I closed my eyes.
And nearly jumped out of the seat when Lulu yelled from the doorway, “Come eat, you heathens!”
* * *
She’d made a beautiful spread. A platter of spaghetti and red sauce with seared meatballs, topped with a snowfall of freshly grated Parmesan. There was a bottle of wine and an enormous loaf of crusty bread.
“What’s the occasion?” I asked as we took seats at the table. Alexei attacked the bread with a serrated knife, then passed around the resulting chunks.
“A good night of work,” Lulu said. “The outlines are nearly done, and then we tape and paint.”
“And the bakery down the block from the mural gave her the bread,” Alexei said with a grin. “So she decided to cook.”
“I know how to lure supernaturals,” she said. “And we’ve barely seen each other since Rosantine.”
“Where’s our resident feline demon?” I asked, looking around.
“Probably peeing in your shoes,” Connor said, and loaded my plate with pasta.
“This restaurant has very good service,” I said with a smile.
“Don’t forget to tip your waiter,” he said, voice low and inviting, and kissed me quickly.
“Since I’d like to keep my appetite in order to enjoy this wonderful feast,” Lulu said, pouring wine into my glass, “I’m going to change the subject. Elisa, tell us about the warehouse that blew up.”
Connor looked torn between fear that I’d been close to injuryand fury that someone would have dared to try to injure me. “Explain,” he said, voice tight.
“We were called to the Chicago Industrial Port because employees found two dead humans in a warehouse. We moved one of the bodies and discovered the perp had placed a detonator beneath it.”
Connor just stared at me. “Elisa.”
