Lu pulled away so she could stare at me. “You let him possess you?”
I frowned. “He wasn’t walking out of there on his own.”
“So you let him possess you. A ghost. Valentine. You let Valentine possess you.”
“If I say yes again, will you stop asking me the same thing?”
She smiled, a big, beautiful thing. “You like him.”
I scowled harder, but it wasn’t doing any good against that glimmer in her eyes. “I like him enough not to want him dead. Deader,” I corrected.
“Is he still with you?” she asked.
“I don’t feel any different. I think I dreamed about him. His wolf.”
“Well, this is a switch.” She pressed her palm against my sternum. “Usually you’re the one pulling ghosts out of me.”
“Oh, I can call him out,” Ricky said. “But first, I need a cup of coffee. It’s been a long damn night.” She pushed to get out of the chair and was pressed back down by several wolves.
Pamela announced, “Josie, Elmer, we’re on kitchen duty. Let’s see what we can pull together for a meal. You stay right there, Crossroads. I’ll send Elmer out with your coffee in a minute.”
“Do I look like a butler?” Elmer grumbled.
Josie snorted. “You look like a grouchy old man.” She pushed him down the hall after Pamela. “He’ll be out in a minute,” she said with a wink over her shoulder. “He might even be wearing a suit and tie.”
“I don’t own a suit and tie, and furthermore…” Whatever he said next was drowned out by Josie’s laughter.
“Hunters are going to cook for us?” Summer asked, maybe more to herself than anyone else. Most of the werewolves in the room were staring after Elmer.
“Yes?” Cove suggested. “Unless Ricky has werewolf poison in the kitchen?”
Werewolf heads swiveled toward Ricky.
“Well, not in the kitchen,” Ricky replied.
I smiled at the instant swivel of wolf heads to their leaders.
“She’s joking.” Abbi walked into the room with a carafe and a box propped on her hip. She set them both down on a table near the window and unpacked cups, cream, and sugar.
“I made coffee.” She smiled at Ricky and handed her a mug.
“Thank you.” She had the cup to her lips almost before she got the last word out. She gulped down at least half the cup, and her shoulders dropped.
The strain of being the focal point for all the connections so far from her place of power—her home—showed in the pallor of her skin and the slight shake of her hands.
It had taken a lot out of her.
“All right, Brogan,” she gestured to me, “let’s get Valentine where he belongs.”
Abbi handed me a mug and shook her head just slightly.
I lifted the mug toward Ricky. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll drink this coffee first.”
If Ricky knew what I was doing, she went with it, leaning her head against the chair and setting her cup on the table. “If you must.”
She was snoring softly before Abbi returned with the next carafe of coffee and didn’t rouse until we’d all eaten our fill of the biscuits and gravy the hunters cooked up.
Morning was only a couple hours away now, but, as Ricky had said, it had been a long damn night.
