“I thought she broke up with her.”

“Apparently not.”

“Is she coming over?”

“Later.” Stevie scowled, and they sat in silence for a moment.

“I could put some horse tranq in her slice. Might lose my license, but it would be worth it to see her hit the ground.”

“I fucking hate her.”

“I know, bud.” Morgan didn’t want to think about Lana. More specifically, she didn’t want to think about the marks she’d see on Angie’s body the next morning.

“Why are you hiding out here, anyway?” asked Stevie.

“I was checking the fire.”

“It’s almost dead.”

“I’m letting it die.”

“Rather heartless of you. It had so much to live for.”

“What time is it, anyway?” she asked.

“A little after nine.”

“We should get back in then. Danielle will be heading out any minute.”

“And the exodus begins.” Stevie extended a hand to Morgan and hauled her up.

Back in the house, the Watsons were indeed saying their good-byes. She overheard Danielle tell Emilia how nice it had been to meet her and warmed at the sight of Emilia’s smile. Stormy hung close to Emilia, keeping her company in Morgan’s absence. Barring her inability to control her own emotions, tonight had gone well. Perhaps too well, her subconscious added. She ignored it. What she’d said to Lillian was true. Emilia needed friends. Morgan owed Ray that much, and that was what she was going to keep telling herself, regardless of what other less altruistic motivations might be at play.

A knock on the door distracted her. Exchanging a look with Stevie, she left the gathering, hoping to forestall the worst of any barking a second knock would rouse from the backyard pack.

“Hey,” she said to the slouching figure on the doorstep. She couldn’t help giving Lana a disapproving once-over. Pin-straight hair beneath a snapback cap. Low-slung jeans. Trendy graphic tee with a reference Morgan didn’t get and didn’t care to get. None of the parts damned the whole, but Lana’s cocky devil-may-care posture made Morgan itch to knock her down a peg. Or maybe it was the coldness in her pale eyes. They were almost the same color as Stevie’s, but where Stevie’s sparkled with energy, Lana’s glittered like glass.

“Ange around?” Lana asked when Morgan didn’t move to let her in.

“She’s inside.”

“Cool.”

She had at least three inches on Lana. With the added height of the doorstep, she loomed over her, and the effect forced Lana to tilt her face up to meet Morgan’s eyes. Morgan didn’t bother hiding her appreciation for the disparity.

“You gonna let me in or what?” Lana’s smirk looked forced.

“Sure.” She stepped aside. Lana had to squeeze by first Morgan, then the Watsons. Morgan wished the couple goodnight and returned to the kitchen, where Lana already had a possessive arm curled around Angie’s waist. Stevie wore a sickened expression.

“I should head out soon, too,” said Emilia from where she leaned against the kitchen counter. Morgan couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to pin her against the granite. So much for cooling off outside.