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“Ethan.”

“…also, we should establish communication protocols in case cellular networks are jammed…”

Rook’s shadows stole Ethan’s tablet. Ethan looked up, blinking behind his glasses with that confused expression that meant his brain had been running six calculations all at the same time.

“You need to eat more,” Rook said, depositing another pizza slice in front of him. “And possibly sleep.”

“I slept eleven hours last night.”

“And now you’re planning a major operation on three bites of pepperoni. Eat.”

Ethan picked up the slice, but his brain was moving too fast. From an academic viewpoint, Rook understood. He had no idea what it was like to be threatened or scared, because the closest he’d come to feeling any form of concern before he met Ethan was when he saw his three brothers captured in Vane’s cage. But Ethan took his safety and security seriously, for very good reasons… There are just some things you can’t plan for. Rook should know. He was often one of those things.

“All right, so we’re all agreed on what we should do,” Thorn said, gathering the marked-up plans. “Silas, I need you to run final surveillance on all three locations. Cillian, review the ward signatures with Julian and determine what equipment you’ll need. Rook.” Thorn’s gaze shifted to him. “Make sure your mate actually rests before tomorrow night.”

“I’m sitting right here,” Ethan said.

“I know.” Thorn’s expression softened slightly. “And I know you’ll spend the next forty-seven hours analyzing every possible scenario until you’ve optimized our chances of success. But you’re also still recovering from Pope’s gallery, and exhausted humans make mistakes.”

“I’m not…”

“You’re exhausted,” Rook and Julian said simultaneously.

Ethan looked between them, then sighed. “Fine. But I’m not spending forty-seven hours in bed. I need to check my apartment this afternoon. I’ve lost track of how long it’s been since I was there, and my refrigerator contains perishable items that will become biohazards if left unattended, and I’d like to pick up more clothes.”

Rook’s shadows immediately coiled tighter, clearly not happy with that idea. Going to Ethan’s apartment meant being out in a public space and potential exposure to Pope’s network or Ashford’s surveillance. Every protective instinct in Rook’s body screamed against it, but Ethan was also right. He’d had a life before meeting Rook, and rotting items in a refrigerator were not pleasant.

“I’m coming with you,” Rook said.

“I assumed.” Ethan ate another bite of pizza. “I’ll need approximately ninety minutes. Thirty minutes to pack clothes and essential items, forty minutes to clean out the refrigerator and dispose of trash, and then twenty minutes to review mail and ensure my bills are current.”

“You’ve timed it?” Although, he wasn’t sure why he even asked, it was what Ethan did.

“Only rough estimates based on previous experiences when I traveled for extended trips, but those guidelines should be close enough.” Ethan shrugged. “I didn’t want your brothers worrying about where you were.”

Sweet, but unnecessary. Rook realized there was still a lot about guardians that Ethan didn’t know yet, but there was time enough for those discussions when the current threat was under control. “We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready,” Rook said. “Two hours total, in and out, then we come back here.”

“Agreed.”

“And you’re not carrying your own bags.”

“What?” It was fun that Ethan could still look stunned. “That’s unnecessary…”

“It’s what a person should do for their mate.” Rook tugged Ethan into his arms and kissed his temple. “Besides, you’ll be busy timing the operation and color-coding your sock drawer most likely.”

“I don’t color-code my socks.”

Julian looked up from his notes. “Color-coding socks is actually highly efficient. I organize mine by thickness, material composition, and seasonal appropriateness.”

Ethan’s expression brightened with interest. “That’s significantly more logical than my current system. Do you use drawer dividers or…”

“Oh, no,” Rook and Cillian said together.

“…because I’ve considered modular organization but wasn’t sure about the optimal configuration…”

“We’re leaving now,” Rook announced, pulling Ethan out of his chair. “Before these two start a symposium on textile categorization.”

Thorn waved them off. “Go. Keep your phone on. Check in every hour.”