“Blasphemy!” Knox accused. “Bisquick is for soccer moms.”
“I’m kidding.” Drew slapped one hand onto Knox’s shoulder. “Alistair here was a chef in Baton Rouge before he came face-to-face with a stray in the bayou a couple of years ago.”
Knox mumbled some colorful expletives under his breath over the use of his first name as he poured more batter into one of the waffle irons.
“And the others?” I whispered to Drew as I drizzled melted butter over my waffle.
“You met Spence and Lochlan in the basement last night. Er, this morning.”
“Yes. Good morning,” I said, as I passed them, eating on stools on the other side of the bar.
“Morning.” Spencer gave me a tired smile as he stirred a spoonful of sugar into a steaming paper coffee cup.
“You’re a doctor?” I asked as I dumped a spoonful of sliced berries onto my plate.
“A triage nurse.” His scrubs were gone, but he still wore exhaustion from his shift at the hospital, followed by a night spent helping Titus with the new stray. “He’sa doctor, though.” Spence elbowed the man on the stool to his left.
Lochlan rolled his eyes, and a tumble of dark blond waves fell over his shoulder. No man bun today. “Does that never get old, man?”
“I don’t understand,” I said as I dug a spoonful of toasted pecans from the next bowl. “Are you not a doctor?”
“I used to be an Associate Professor of Philosophy at Duke.”
“Ah.” My brows rose. “A PhD. That’s my plan too. History.”
Loch nodded. “Unfortunately, Duke isn’t in the free zone, so…” He shrugged, then cut a bite out of a waffle half-buried beneath caramelized banana slices.
Duke University was in Abby’s father’s territory. No strays allowed.
“Loch and Knox both lost their jobs and their homes when they got infected,” Drew said. “But all that should stop once we’re officially recognized by your council.”
It’s notmycouncil…
“But not you?” I said with another glance at Spencer.
He shrugged. “I’m local.”
“What about him?” I nodded at the youngest tom as I followed Drew farther down the peninsula.
“That’s Brandt Fischer. He was infected a few months ago, but we didn’t find him until after his first shift. We brought him here for acclimation, and he just doesn’t seem to want to leave.”
“You know I can hear you, right?” Brandt spoke up from the breakfast table, where he sat at Abby’s left.
Drew rolled his eyes. “That’s a somewhat selective ability, in your case.” Then he leaned closer to whisper into my ear. “He wants to be an enforcer, and no one has the heart to tell him he’s too young and inexperienced. He mostly tags along after Knox and Naveen, doing whatever grunt work they throw his way.”
“Naveen?” I asked, glancing around the kitchen.
“Over here.” A man with thick, glossy black hair and piercing brown eyes stood from his stool at the end of the peninsula, holding an empty paper plate smeared with whipped cream and syrup. “Naveen Madan.” He extended his hand to me across the granite. “You’re Abby’s friend?”
“Yeah.” I transferred my plate into my left hand, so I could shake his. “We were college roommates until…”
“Until you were infected?”
“Well, until the council found out I’d been infected. But that was my own fault.” Turns out that killing four people—even bad guys—will quickly bring you to the attention of the authorities, both shifter and human.
And suddenly I was uncomfortably aware that if any of the men around me had done what I’d done, even if they were as traumatized as I’d been, they would have been executed for their crimes. Quickly, and quite possibly brutally.
But I saw no sign that they knew what I’d done. If Abby hadn’t told them, I probably shouldn’t either.
