“He called first thing this morning and explained everything.” She sounded peppier than she had in months. “He told me how you met and fell in love working a case together. He sounds like a doll. He’s so smitten with you, it’s precious. I can’t believe you didn’t mention him to me. How tall is he? Does he have a lot of muscles? He sounds gorgeous. Do you have a picture you can email Isaac? No. Don’t do that. I’ll wait. I want to be surprised.”

Me? In love with Cord Graeson? “How did he get your number?” I answered my own question. “He copied my contacts while he had possession of my phone.” Her indulgent laughter didn’t help my mood. “What do you mean you’ll wait? Wait for what?”

“You really don’t know?” She clucked her tongue with budding fondness. “That boy promised he would clear things up with you.”

“Things? What things?” My shrill voice kept rising. “What are you talking about?”

“Cord said you two are getting close, and he wants to meet the family before things get serious.” A sigh blasted my ear. Clearly, I was ruining her fun. “He owns acreage in Georgia. Did you know that? He invited the whole family to drive down so we could spend the week getting to know each other.”

My fingers clenched around the phone until the plastic shell creaked. Vause must not be the only one keeping tabs on me. What would Graeson have done if Vause hadn’t suspended me? I don’t want to know. I was learning he was a warg with a plan for every possible contingency and that he had no qualms taking what—or who—he wanted. The thing was, with Charybdis still at large and my ties to the conclave temporarily severed, I didn’t mind the idea of having backup when it came to protecting my family. Getting Aunt Dot and my cousins out of Tennessee until Charybdis reared his head again relaxed the part of me that had been fretting over the killer’s apparent fascination with my current home state.

Had Graeson mentioned this plan, I might not have laughed in his face. Now we would never know, because he did what he always did, which was hatch a scheme, assume his way was best, and expect everyone else to fall in line behind his hairy beta warg ass.

“You don’t sound thrilled.” A horn blasted in the background, and Aunt Dot swore revenge against the driver of a red Jetta, telling me the caravan was on the move. “It’s not too late. Should we pass on his invitation?”