“She’s an espresso machine, and she gives me great pleasure. The least she deserves is a name.” Vampires might be creatures of the night, but we’re also creatures who appreciate caffeine. Destiny satisfied that need. Mostly.

Connor took a drink, then glanced at the size of my cup. “You might as well use a thimble.”

“I’m already jumpy about Rose. This is more than enough. And I don’t own a thimble.” I tilted my head at him. “Do they still even make thimbles? Those are for sewing, right?”

“No idea,” he said.

Since I’d had plenty of blood the night before and wasn’t feeling the need for more right now, I’d toasted an everything bagel. I tore a chunk from the edge, chewed. “Workout wear. Protein drinks. You’re going to ruin your reputation.”

His grin was wild. “Lis, my reputation was ruined a very long time ago in many enjoyable ways.”

He wasn’t wrong. Connor had been the belle of the supernatural ball since he’d been a teenager. There were few eyes—human or Sup—that hadn’t shown their appreciation, and he’d rarely been without a gorgeous girl on his arm.

He took another drink. “How’s the shoulder?”

I rolled it experimentally. “Good. And I didn’t turn rabid or luminescent during the day.”

“That you know of,” he said with amusement. “You could have been a vampiric night-light.”

“I feel like you’d have opened with that if it had happened.”

“And taken pictures and video, and made some very nice royalties.”

“Shifters are always about that hustle.”

He snorted, because hustle was typically not a shifter characteristic. Except where finely smoked meats were concerned. He took my bagel, bit in, then offered it back.

“I’m heading to Cadogan House after Edentown and then to talk to Ariel, if she gets back to me. I can drop you off beforehand if you want.”

“I’ll go with you. I’m curious about dead people, and I like talking to your parents.”

That had me pausing with the bagel halfway to my mouth. “What?” I lowered it. “You used to hate parental interaction.”

“That’s because I was usually dragged over there to apologize for something.”

“There’s a reason we called you ‘puppy.’ ”

He grinned at me. “And there’s a reason we called you ‘brat,’ brat.”

He clinked his plastic jug against my tiny cup. “To a drama-free night,” he said, and we drank.

“Does that taste as bad as it looks?”

He swallowed. “No. It’s actually worse.” He flexed his biceps. “But worth it.”

Having seen those muscles—and the muscular rest of him—I couldn’t disagree.

“I can respect the hustle,” I said, and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Let’s go back to Edentown.”

* * *

At my request, Connor drove the SUV—after looking it over for any damage from last night. He found a few dings, probably from the gate stones being hurled about, but nothing major, so we hit the road.

The road was blocked on the north side by CPD cars and police tape, and traffic was being detoured to an exit. Connor drove up to the vehicles, and I leaned over and pulled out my badge, still shiny.