How come everyone calls you pinecone?
“For no reason,” I said.
I sense a very interesting reason.
Was he smiling? I tossed a building block at him, which he caught with ease.
I’d love to hear it.
“Never happening.”
Storm tipped my tower, and his joy splashed over my brother’s sadness. Mission accomplished, Liam’s son scooted back toward his father.
It dawned on me that Seoul Sister was probably off-limits now. I shot Adalyn a text, in which I unpacked the big lines of what had happened, and asked her to cancel since I didn’t want to risk getting Bea on the line, what with my brother in the same room.
That night, we ended up staying in. Partly because of the weather and partly because of Nate. When a Freemont was in pain, every Freemont stuck around to pull him or her out of it. Adalyn and I made plans to go out the following night, just the two of us.
If the blizzard let up, we’d head into town—Seoul Sister wasn’t the only place to hang out if you were single and under the age of thirty.
If it kept snowing, we’d go to Pondside—not ideal considering it would be packed with shifters, all of whom I knew.
Chapter 11
The weather didn’t let up, so Pondsideit was.
When I reached the canteen, the new barkeep, Sasha, a freckle-faced boy who’d been in my high school graduating class, gestured toward Adalyn. She sat at the head of the communal table closest to the giant chimney where poultry and lamb shanks rotated on spits, dribbling fat onto earthenware filled with sliced potatoes.
As I hung my coat on the seat beside hers, I looked around the crowded mess hall—few spots remained at the other communal tables and fewer still along the copper bar. The sleekly designed, walnut-paneled eatery worked like a members’ club: compound residents paid yearly dues that compensated the staff—Nolan, Dad, and five others—and gave them access to two meals a day. Not everyone ate there twice, though, but most people caught at least one daily meal there. Alcohol was billed separately, the sole source of profit from the operation. Dad hadn’t done it for the money, though, just for the love of food and pack life.
“What did people do before Dad got the idea to open up this place?”
“They ate at home?” Adalyn tossed a smile at a couple sitting at our table. “When are the babies due, Wren?”
The black-skinned shifter, who’d briefly dated Nate in her teenage years, patted her immense abdomen. “Next month, although I heard twins usually arrive early.”
“Two more guests at my wedding.” Ads clapped as excitedly as Storm when he caught sight of his milk bottle.
I was now familiar with most of the little guy’s reactions having spent the better half of my afternoon babysitting him with Mom again while Liam dealt with the halfwolves in the bunker. Although I was dying to know if they’d made any headway in finding Shifter Zero, I’d left before he or Nate had gotten home.
Nolan walked through the flap door next to the bar, the sleeves of his black cook’s uniform rolled up to his elbows. He crouched next to the fire and slivered some lamb onto a platter. When he caught sight of me and Adalyn, he sent us a wink.
After greeting our other neighbors, I leaned in toward Adalyn. “Did you ask Sasha to keep four seats vacant around us for privacy?”
“No. I told him to save them for the singles’ crowd. He swore he would.”
I grabbed one of the pitchers of water and filled both our glasses, wondering who was single and might come out tonight.
“What do you want to drink?” Adalyn leaped to her feet. “I’ll go grab the first round.”
“A beer.”
She nodded, then walked to the bar and squeezed herself between the shifters sitting there.
“How’s the knee?” came an oh-so-familiar voice behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder. How had I missed that Grant was sitting at the table next to us? How hadAdalyn, with her owl-sharp eyesight, missed it?
He was balancing on the back legs of his chair.
