Like we’re stuckin a time loop, I find Sheena fiddling with the coffee maker again when I come in from my morning run. I look her over, but I try not to be obvious about it. One look shows me the nightmare carved deep, purple half moons beneath her eyes. The emerald green color of her eyes is duller somehow; the sparkle I noticed in the mountains long gone.
I want to put it back.
“How did you sleep?” I ask. The answer is obvious, but just because I’ve decided to be patient doesn’t mean I can’t push a little.
“The bed is very comfortable,” she says, neatly dodging the question and tossing a fake smile in my direction. “Would you like some coffee?”
I grunt, ignoring the need to call her on her bullshit.
Sheena passes me a mug, and I take a sip, surprised to find it's exactly how I like it—sugar and creamer with some coffee on the side. I raise an eyebrow at her, and a blush floods her cheeks.
“I’ve worked at a lot of hole-in-the-wall diners. Remembering a coffee order is basically my top skill.” She taps her temple and avoids direct eye contact while wiping down the counter. I’m not even sure where she got that dishrag. I’ve never seen it before in my life.
“You don't have to do chores, Sheena.” I fight to keep the frown off my face. “You're our guest here, but this is your home for as long as you want.”
Green flames spark to life in her eyes, and she’s clearly opening her mouth to argue when Callum appears out of the shadows. She jumps, and I glare at him for startling her. He just rolls his eyes at me and makes his way to her side.
“Time to check those scrapes,” Callum says.
She squints at the first aid kit in his hand and looks like she's winding up to argue again. I go with my gut. Before she can say whatever she's thinking, I lift her up on the counter and smack a kiss to her cheek.
“Let him check you over, Sheena. You won't win an argument with a demon.” I kiss her other cheek and wink at her as she sputters. “Plus, coyotes are gross. You don't want an infection, do you?”
Blood rushes to her face, and I want to cheer as she grumbles something under her breath about how we’re working her up on purpose. I duck my head into the fridge so she won’t notice my smile, then I pretend to rummage around for food while watching her through the crack in the door.
Callum ignores Sheena’s outrage completely, calmly wedging himself into the space between her legs and reaching for her shirt with a raised eyebrow. She huffs, lifting the fabric herself so he can get a look at her side. The bruises have changed to a sickly yellow already, confirming that she's definitely healing faster than a human would, but not as fast as a shifter or demon.Nothing new there. We already knew she wasn't human or like us.
Callum removes the gauze next, revealing the raw, angry scratches. I frown. Based on the bruises, I expected the healing to be further along. I look to Callum, but he doesn’t comment or acknowledge my concern. Fucker.
Nope, he just sprays antiseptic on the scrapes and blows soothingly on the area. Goose bumps spread across Sheena’s skin, and her breathing speeds up.
That’s when I realize I'mstill staring through the crack in the refrigerator door. They can’t see me, but—oh shit—by the time I realize my mistake, it’s already too late. The damn thing beeps at top volume, complaining loudly about how long I’ve been holding it open. I slam the door with way more force than necessary, bottles rattling as the beeping mercifully stops.
Now I’m standing here empty-handed and red in the face as they both stare.
“Can't find what you're looking for?” Sheena asks, laughter coating her voice. My embarrassment melts. I don't even care that she’s laughing at me; I want to hear more of the sound. Wrenching the refrigerator door back open, I pull a carton of eggs out of the bottom shelf.
“Couldn't decide if I wanted an omelet or just toast this morning,” I lie, plotting my revenge against the snitch-ass appliance. They both accept my explanation without comment, but I know Cal is going to give me shit for it later.
He tells Sheena she doesn't need a bandage anymore as long as she avoids reopening the scrapes. She thanks him, then hops down from the counter and walks over to me. We stand in comfortable silence, chopping veggies side by side. It's peaceful, domestic, and so chill that I barely notice the pull in my chest demanding I rush in and claim her.
Cal’s phone goes off while we’re eating. Sheena jumps, but we all pretend not to notice. Callum looks at the screen and sighs. He answers the call without getting up. The fingers of his free hand start to drum anxiously against the table as I shovel a bit of omelet into my mouth. Seeing his tell almost makes me groan. There’s no way I can make it through even a secondhand Dimitri lecture without getting indigestion.
I’m about to glare at Callum for choosing to do this here until I realize he’s making a deliberate point by not leaving to hide the call. He’s proving to Sheena that she can trust us by showing her he trusts her. It’s smart.
Knowing it’s the right move doesn’t help my frustration, though. This whole interrogation is bullshit, and Cal is a saint for even answering the phone.
We’ve already followed protocol and submitted a written report on the Wyoming lead. Obviously, we left Sheena out of it, but it’s not like our fathers have any way of knowing that. No, this is standard Dimitri bullying. Callum’s father never misses a chance to browbeat his oldest son. With no arrests and no immediate leads on the traffickers, he’s determined to blame him. This call is just his way of getting a few hits in disguised as ‘hands-on leadership.’
Sheena holds herself completely still as she listens, only relaxing slightly once Callum explains how the bar was a dead end without mentioning her. When he’s finished, Dimitri kicks off the lecture. I can’t make out what he’s saying, but the tone comes through loud and clear. Fucking prick. By the time he’s satisfied, Callum’s jaw is clenched so tightly I worry he’s going to chip a tooth.
“Understood. We'll check it out.” Callum ends the call.
Heartburn grips my chest. “What the fuck does he want now?”
“There’s another lead.” Callum stares at his plate without blinking. “Near Boulder this time.”
Callum may sound calm, but I know better. He’s spiraling, and not just from talking to his dad. We can’t take Sheena on a mission to some shady supernatural corner of our territory. We’re going to have to leave her here, alone in the house with no protection but plenty of time to convince herself to take off again.
