“I always keep a spare.” Aunt Dot wasn’t the best cook. She did breakfast well, and she made a mean sandwich, but dinner came safest from the can unless she was supervised. If Isaac was asking for an opener, then they had decided to forego unstrapping the fire extinguisher tonight. “Check the top drawer to the left of the sink.”

Blue eyes sharp on Dell, he ran a hand through his dirty-blond hair and approached with caution. The entryway was crowded with all three of us standing there, but Isaac slid past Dell and me into my trailer, where drawers began rattling and thumping. He never listened to me when I told him where I put things.

“That’s your cousin?” Dell worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “Which one? You’ve got two, right?”

“This one’s Isaac. The other’s Theo.” His trailer sat at the rear of our circle, empty. His work carried him around the world, but just like me, he always came back home, wherever home might be. “I doubt you’ll see him. Last I heard he was still in Mexico.”

“Is Isaac single?” Twisting the tail of her shirt into a knot, she laughed at her nerves and shook out her hands. “How hairy does he like his women?”

“Isaac?” I called.

“I don’t see the damn can opener.”

“That’s not—” I rolled my eyes. “Are you single?”

Something hit the floor, shattered. I hoped it wasn’t my favorite mug. I had washed the carroty taste out of it earlier and set it out to dry near the sink.

“Who’s asking?” He appeared in the doorway, gaze piercing Dell where she stood.

“This is my friend Dell Preston.” I frowned at his coldness. Usually he loved buttering up the ladies. “Dell, this is Isaac Cahill.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a friend of Camille’s before,” he said, extending his hand.

Aware of what Gemini were capable of, Dell closed her fingers over his fearlessly.

“Cam’s good people.” Her Southern accent intensified. “I’m proud to call her my friend.”

“You’re a warg.” Statement of fact. Rubbing his fingertips together as though parsing a confusing texture to her magic, he cocked his head to one side. “You’re the donor.”

“Yeah. I guess.” Tendrils of reddish hair spilled over her shoulder when she ducked her head to peer shyly through the wavy curtain. “I mean, I did the one time.”

“About that.” I rescued her from the awkward silence following his pronouncement. “A condition of me staying here is an agreement I made with Isaac. I’ve let my magic go the past few years, and he’s going to whip me into shape.” Now for the awkward part. “That means I need a blood donor. You’re the only warg I trust enough to ask for the favor, but you can say no.”