Yuri's scowl deepened to what I was starting to think of as Level Seven. "This isn't a joke, human."
"Everything's a joke if your sense of humor is dark enough," I muttered.
He ignored me, stalking across the room to a wall of equipment. His massive frame cast long shadows across theconcrete floor as he pointed to a security panel with its faceplate hanging off.
"This," he said, jabbing a finger at the panel, "was functional yesterday."
I raised my eyebrows. "And?"
"And now it's not." He moved to a row of monitors, some displaying static, others completely dark. "These CCTV routers. Dead." Then to a doorway with a mangled card reader. "This access control system. Destroyed."
I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Last night's activities with Nicolai had been...energetic. Apparently, when a bear shifter turns you on, the electrical systems around you tend to suffer.
"So sorry about that. When mind-blowing sex causes actual electrical blowouts, is that covered by your insurance?" I couldn't resist asking, watching Yuri's face contort in disgust.
"Fix it," he commanded.
"What, no please? And here I thought Russians were supposed to be polite."
Yuri crossed his arms, feet planted firmly apart. "The boss wants it fixed. You can either do it willingly or I can make you do it. Your choice."
I sighed dramatically. "Well, when you put it that way..."
I approached the security panel first, running my fingers along its damaged surface. The electronic pulse of the system was weak but still there, like a fading heartbeat.
I closed my eyes, letting my mind merge with the circuitry. Most people thought of electronics as cold, logical things, but to me, they had personality. This system was old, stubborn, but solid. Like Yuri, actually.
Amusing comparison.
"Hand me that screwdriver," I said, holding out my palm without looking up.
A moment later, the weight of the tool slapped against my hand. I pried open the damaged panel, exposing the tangle of wires inside. This was child's play.
I reconnected a few loose connections, rerouted power through an alternative pathway, and with a gentle pulse from my fingertips, coaxed the system back to life. The panel lit up, status lights blinking from red to green.
"That was the easy one," I said, moving to the CCTV routers.
These were more challenging, but nothing I couldn't handle. I traced connections with my fingertips, feeling the flow of data like water through pipes, identifying blockages and redirecting traffic.
Each touch sent small sparks dancing across my skin—not enough to hurt, just enough to feel alive. I could fix these systems in my sleep, but where was the fun in that?
Instead, I made a show of it. I typed furiously on keyboards, whispered dramatically to circuit boards, and even blew a kiss to a particularly stubborn server that finally rebooted after my third attempt.
"Do you always perform for an audience?" Yuri asked dryly.
"Only when they're as appreciative as you," I replied without looking up.
I saved the card reader for last because it was genuinely damaged—the electromagnetic pulse that had escaped my control during a particularly intense moment with Nicolai had fried its internal components. This one would require more than a quick fix; it needed a complete rebuild.
"This one's properly fucked," I announced, pulling the reader from the wall and exposing the charred wiring behind it. "Got any spares?"
Yuri disappeared into a supply closet and returned with an outdated model that looked like it belonged in a museum rather than a high-security criminal headquarters.
"Seriously? This thing is ancient."
"It works," Yuri grunted.
"Barely," I countered. "Give me twenty minutes and I'll do better than 'works.'"
