“But Valor had an arranged marriage?” Leticia starts dumping what looks like homemade meatballs out of a gallon bag into each slow cooker.
“It’s a little different when your kid is on the line.” I play with the desk’s chipping fake-wood surface.
Leticia keeps working, pouring containers of liquid into the pots. “That makes a big difference. What about you though? Waiting fortheone?”
Found her.My wolf pushes hard at the idea. Practically begging me to tell her.
“Yeah, something like that. You know how it is, your world is so small in this life.” I hope what I’m saying is relatable to her, despite my double meaning. “So few people get to know about what it is we do and who we are. It makes it hard to findtheoneamong such a finite number of people.”
“Mmmmm.” Leticia is tying twigs of spices together. “And then you get all these people who want to be with you because of who your parents are and get all weird about it?”
“Yes!” I relax into my chair, happy with her understanding. I know we’re talking about completely different worlds, but at least some things — nepotism — are a universal language.
“How much work do you have left?” Leticia puts the lids on her slow cookers.
“All done.” I lie. I’ve got another ten minutes left, but she looks too tired to stay up much longer.
Leticia pulls her apron off over the top of her head and hangs it on a hook. “Are you sure? I can stay up for a little bit.”
“No, chef. I’m sure.” I throw in one last joke. “Get some sleep, you’ve had a long day.”
“Oh.” Leticia hesitates, tapping her phone screen, then drumming her fingers on the countertop.
“Well, if you want to talk some other time, you have my number. Just say the word.” I reassure her.
Anytime. All the time.My wolf agrees.
“I’ll do that.” Leticia is much more upbeat. “Good night, Royal.”
“Good night, Leticia.” I let her disconnect the call.
11
ROYAL
CATCHING PREDATORS
It’s wellafter noon when I roll out of bed. The small clock on my desk, illuminating the numbers, tells me I’ve way overslept.
I was too wired to sleep after talking to her, so I stayed up to start additional print jobs to have a fuller inventory. I’m paying for it now though. I find the small remote on my nightstand and press the first programmed button. It pulls the bottom of my blinds up in small intervals every couple of minutes.
I’m a wolf and can see in the dark, but if it’s dark, my brain will let me sleep until it’s not dark anymore. Without looking, I feel around on the nightstand for my phone, but it’s not there. Shuffling, I look for it amid the sheets and comforter but groan when I remember hearing a thud when I finally flopped into bed. Looking over the edge, I see the device. At least it’s plugged in and charging.
It takes some effort, but I manage to hook the corner of it with my middle finger and pull it close enough to pick up.
On a normal morning, I can wake up to anywhere between ten and two hundred notifications. Depending on what I sleep through.
There are the usual three or four from Mom and Dad, with their plans for the day and asking me if I’m alive. Two quick replies clear those off the pile.
There are a couple from Kerrianne asking about her robot, along with a picture of Captain. I agree that Captain is dashing inhis radish hat and let her know that I’ll have more info on the parts later.
Valor sent me a ‘honey-do’ list of projects he’s working on and what parts he’d like me to take care of. I give him a thumbs-up.
Notifications regarding several tech upgrades having been completed and a dozen or so from the 3D print shop get deleted without looking, and I make it all the way to something I didn’t expect to find.
Leticia D’Medici:
Thank you for last night, it meant a lot to me.
