Grace slowly opened her eyes. She was in the back of an SUV, leaning against Adare’s side, as they drove up a snowy drive toward a darkened cabin set amidst a thick forest. The moon shone down, bright against the snow, sparkling like a fairytale welcome. “Where are we?”

“The corner of Colorado and Arizona, kind of,” Benny said from the driver’s seat. “It’s our lair.”

Adare shifted his weight. “I have asked you repeatedly to stop calling it that.”

“Huh.” Benny pulled to a stop in front of the quiet porch. “We had the demon nation’s pilots drop us at a private airstrip an hour away because we want this place to be public, right? Not. We wouldn’t even give them a hint as to where we’re going, so they’ll have to sleep in the copter if they can’t make it out. This is our lair.”

“It’s not a lair,” Adare growled, his Scottish brogue coming out full force.

Jacqueline turned around from the front seat, once again in human form with her clothes back on, her tawny hair flowing down her back as if she’d spent hours in a salon. “Looks like a lair to me.” She caught Grace’s eye. “You’re awake. Good. You sure faint a lot.” She smiled, her teeth all back in place and perfectly white. “You’ve been here before, surely. Is it a lair?”

Grace hadn’t even known Adare owned a place in Colorado. “I’m not entering this argument,” she said, forcing a smile. No way was she admitting she didn’t know a thing about her so-called mate. She pushed her curly hair away from her face, no doubt looking like she’d just been in a snowy battle before falling asleep in a military helicopter. Her life had gotten so odd since the coma.

Adare opened the door and stepped out into the cold. “Let’s grab something to eat and some sleep. We can plan in the morning.” He lifted his chin when Jacqueline exited the vehicle. “I don’t suppose the Ledonis will give us a discount on replacement explosives?”

“Not a chance,” Jacki purred, the moon highlighting her smile.

“I figured.” Adare returned her grin.

Grace shoved her way out, elbowing him in the side, her chest aching. She was not jealous. Not at all. “I’m going to skip food and jump into a hot shower.” The dried blood down her neck and chest was starting to itch, and she smelled like burnt soup. The shifter probably smelled like jasmine or orchids despite her battle with dangerous enemies.