Page 157 of My Undead Love Life

Keith’s expression softened so much I had to look down.

Luck took one bite and closed his eyes. “I have never loved any food more than I love this stew.”

Mad took a slower bite, then nodded once toward Sofia. “This is good.”

Sofia tried to wave it off, but I caught the small flicker of satisfaction in her expression.

Keith ate like a man trying to be polite and failing because his body was starving. After a few bites, he let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh. “This is real food,” he said. “Not canned!”

“It’s called nutrition,” Sofia replied. “You should try maintaining it.”

“We’ve been busy avoiding death,” Luck said.

“Poor time management.”

Oxi nearly choked on his stew.

I laughed, and the sound came easier this time.

For a few minutes, we ate in silence. The warmth sank through my chest, my stomach, and my hands wrapped around the bowl. I felt safe again.

Sofia leaned against the counter. “I have cameras set up all around my perimeter, and I can tell you came from the city, but I also need you to know that you’re being tracked.”

Every spoon stopped.

Mad’s bowl lowered slowly. “Excuse me?”

“By scent,” Sofia said. “It’s an infected snow leopard. One of the advanced behavioral variants. It has been on your general route since you left the city, from what I can tell.”

A chill went through me. It was ridiculous, because the room was warm and I had a bowl of stew in my hands. But…the leopard.

“Since we left the city?” Keith asked.

Sofia nodded. “Possibly before. It lost the trail twice in the storm, but it regained it both times. It’s persistent. Intelligent enough to course-correct.”

Oxi set his spoon down. “That is not comforting.”

“It wasn’t intended to be.”

Luck stared at her. “Can we maybe occasionally intend comfort?”

“I gave you stew.”

“That was comforting.”

Keith’s face had gone hard, all wonder gone beneath survival focus. “How close was it following?”

“Far enough that you weren’t immediately mauled before reaching my door.” Sofia grabbed a canister from a shelf and tossed it toward Mad.

He caught it with one hand.

“This will mask you,” she said. “Temporarily. Reapply every few hours once you leave and go toward wherever you’re going.”

Mad studied the canister. “What is it?”

“A scent-disruption compound. It won’t make you invisible, but it will confuse the trail-following. Especially in snow. Don’t spray it in your eyes, don’t drink it, and don’t use it near an open flame.”

Keith reached for the canister, and Mad passed it to him. Keith turned it over, reading the handwritten label. “You made this?”