“Aren’t they in Iceland or something?” I complained. “That could take forever!”

Sal shrugged. “Who knows why the Shadows do anything? Maybe they’re like the Starlights, trying to keep connected to humanity.”

“Well, someone should tell them humanity is now using email.”

“Charlie can be a little impatient,” Reg said.

My stomach rumbled as a savory steam escaped Sal’s pot. Apparently my appetite was returning. “Is that almost ready?”

“Case in point,” Reg quipped.

I showed him my favorite finger in response.

“I’m not impatient. That smell is just too good.”

“Fine, fine,” Sal grumped, but I thought I saw the corner of his mouth quirk up.

He scooped heaping ladles of something into bowls that he passed around the table.

“Not yet,” he warned, before I could take a bite. “It’s too hot. You’ll burn your mouth.”

I twisted up my face into a cross between doubt and disgust. “Burn my mouth?”

“It’s a human thing.”

I dropped my spoon. “Oh, come on! This is torture.”

Sal laughed—a hearty belly laugh. “You were trapped in a postpubescent phase of hormonal development for one hundred years, and you think this is torture?”

I shuddered. “Please don’t ever say ‘postpubescent’ again.”

That only made Sal roar louder, pounding the table with his fist. Reg caught his infectious laugh, and soon, even I had joined in. By the time we were done cracking up, the food was cool enough to eat. Sal declared the contents of the bowls to be chili, and Reg and I declared it to be delicious.

“Do all humans know how to cook?” Reg asked between bites. “Is this a skill we would be expected to learn if we remained mortal?”

“Nah, it’s not a requirement to join the human club. I just happen to have a lot of family recipes.”

I frowned down at my near-empty bowl. “Slayer soup.”

“Chili,” Sal corrected. “And I got the recipe from the other side of the family.”

I tilted my head at his bitter tone. “Are you not proud to be a Sicarius? I mean, I get it. I would be mortified. But it seems like a slayer would be writing that name in little hearts all over their notebooks.”

Sal’s smile was brittle. “I was proud once.”

“Until?” Reg prompted.

Sal wiped chili from his beard and let out a tired sigh. “Until I started to doubt the mission.”

“Which is what? Vampire extinction?” I guessed.

“You got it. All vamps off the face of the earth. Period. No exceptions.” He nodded to us. “Not even for the children.”

“And slayers just go along with that, no questions asked?” Reg said.