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“Sounds messy, but I imagine it’s an effective deterrent.”
Rook kissed his forehead, already thinking about how he could help his mate as much as possible. “Give me twenty minutes,” he said. “I need to bake.”
Ethan blinked. “Excuse me. You’re going to bake. Now. Before I go and talk to Pope?”
“I’m sure I heard you mention liking cinnamon rolls that time I bought you breakfast. I have a recipe that takes eighteen minutes if I cheat with shadow-warmed dough.” Rook headed toward the door, his shadows already reaching toward the kitchen. “If you’re going to talk to a trafficking occultist, I’m going to make you breakfast first. That’s how this works.”
“I’m not sure I can even eat right now.” Ethan sounded totally confused, but to Rook it was obvious. His mate needed sustenance. “Is this some kind of stress coping mechanism for you?
“My coping mechanism is making sure my mate eats before he does something dangerous and brilliant.” Rook glanced back. “You want cream cheese frosting or maple glaze?”
Ethan stared at him for three full seconds. Then said quietly, “Cream cheese, please.”
“Good choice. Are you coming to the kitchen? I’ll put some coffee on for you, too.”
“I’ll just use the bathroom and wash up, and then be down there, thanks.”
Rook morphed into the kitchen, pulling ingredients from the cupboards - flour, yeast, cinnamon, and butter. He left the mixing to his shadows while his mind tried to work out what Pope was trying to do.
The man wanted something, that much was obvious. It could be information, as Ethan had said, or it could be that Pope thought he could manipulate Ethan in some way. Not that it mattered. Rook would be there, his shadows coiled and ready. The asshole only had to make one mistake…
But first, cinnamon rolls and coffee, simply because while his mate was about to walk into an interrogation room to face a man who’d tried to kill him - and Rook couldn’t stop him - he would at least make sure Ethan had breakfast first.
The dough came together quickly. His shadows kneaded it faster than human hands could manage, working the gluten while Rook mixed the cinnamon filling.
Eighteen minutes, then they’d go face Pope, extract whatever intelligence the bastard had, while Rook would continue having very strong opinions about his mate’s definition of “acceptable risk.”
The first batch went into the oven, and Rook’s shadows hummed with anticipation.
Chapter Eighteen
“You’re processing again.” Rook’s voice came from directly behind Ethan as he made his way down the stairs to the basement. “I can feel it.”
“I was thinking about Pope’s behavior pattern. It’s highly suggestive of a narcissistic personality disorder with paranoid features. He won’t respond to threats the way Voss or someone similar might, so a different approach is required.” Ethan flashed a grin at his mate. “I spent a lot of time assessing narcissistic people - my ex was a classic textbook case - so I have some experience in these things.”
“If Pope reminds you of your ex, then I’m still voting for the spine removal method.”
“Noted.” Ethan reached the bottom landing. The basement stretched longer than the warehouse footprint suggested, with warded doors lining both sides. Thorn stood outside the third door on the left, his arms crossed.
“He’s been asking for you specifically for the past hour.” Thorn’s expression suggested he shared Rook’s opinion about spine removal. “He’s getting tedious about it, despite my explaining that he’s not in a position to make any demands. His soul is pure evil, and I’m hungry.”
“Then he’s lucky he’s still breathing,” Rook muttered.
Ethan had other concerns. “Speaking of hunger, there are cinnamon buns upstairs. But has Pope eaten anything?”
Thorn blinked. “What?”
“It’s a simple question. You’re guardians and not used to having to provide human sustenance on a regular basis. Has Sebastian Pope been provided food and water since his capture approximately nineteen hours ago?”
“Silas brought him something six hours back. Why does that…?”
“Dehydration and hunger in humans can compromise cognitive function. If he’s genuinely willing to provide intelligence, I need him thinking clearly.” Ethan adjusted his glasses. “If he’s got anything else planned, I want to know he’s doing it consciously, rather than just because he needs to pee or he’s hungry. Hangry is a real thing, and some humans can suffer really badly with it..”
Rook’s shadows tightened around Ethan’s wrist. “If you ever need food and we’ve forgotten to cook, then tell me,” he said firmly. “I don’t know what this hangry is, but I don’t want it happening to you.”
“I don’t know what it is either, but Pope is behind reinforced glass,” Thorn said. “It’s three inches thick and fully warded. He can’t reach you by physical or magical means.”
“Rook will be with me anyway.” Ethan patted Rook’s arm. “I don’t think he’d let me go in there alone.”
