“Hugh!” Hope’s high-pitched squeal blasted his eardrums, nearly making him drop the phone. “Is everything okay? Did you get to her in time?”
“Yes, and no. I’ll tell you the full details later, but suffice it to say that I’m not having you two running around loose. We stopped by your place to get your clothes and things. You’re both staying here until all this is settled.”
“Here…with Griff?” Hope said dubiously. “Um. It’s kind of crowded, you know. I mean, I love little Danny, and the twins are beyond adorable, but I’m not sure that—“
“No, I meant stay here with me. I’ve got plenty of space.”
There was a long pause from the other end of the line.
“Me and Ivy?” Hope sounded like he’d just proposed they book a suite at the International Space Station. “In your actual house?”
“Well, I’m not going to store you with the potting forks in the shed,” Hugh said in exasperation. “Yes, in my house.”
“Aaaaaand…let me get this straight. Ivy is in your house right now. With you. Alone.”
“What, you think we’re having a party without you? Of course we’re alone. Tell Griff I’ll be picking you up after dinner.”
“Okay.” Hope’s voice raised, going distant as if she was holding the phone at arm’s length. “Hey, Griff! Hugh says I need to stay with you tonight!”
“What?” Hugh spluttered. “No! I said—“
“Griff says that’s no problem,” Hope said sweetly. “Pick me up in the morning, okay? Have a nice evening!”
“No, wait, what?” He was talking to a dead line. “What the hell? Hope!”
“Something wrong?” Ivy had come into the kitchen, carrying a large, lidded plastic box in her arms.
Hugh stared at his phone, completely baffled. “Apparently, your sister would rather stay in a house full of screaming children than come here.”
“What? Why would-“ Ivy stopped mid-sentence, apparent enlightenment dawning. She let out a low, heartfelt groan. “Why that little—I swear, I am going to kill her with my bare hands.”
“Why? What’s she up to?”
Ivy circled past him, keeping her box between them like a shield. “It’s not important. Let’s just say that I’m pretty sure her latest dumb scheme is doomed to failure. Just forget it.”
Hugh redialed, but the call went straight to voicemail. Hope must have switched Griff’s phone off. He tried contacting Griff telepathically, but the griffin shifter was clearly preoccupied, probably with attempting to force nutritious vegetables into the protesting mouths of his three children.
“I could go get her anyway,” he said to Ivy.
“Don’t bother.” Ivy was busy unpacking her box on the worktop. “You’d only have to prize her off the doorframe while she yells her head off. Hope has never been shy about making a scene to get what she wants.”
Hugh opened his mouth to argue further, but was distracted by Ivy pulling a pan and a packet of ramen out of her box. “What on earth are you doing?”
“Making myself some dinner,” she said, flashing him a look as though he was being the weird one. “Is it okay if I use your stove?”
Hugh looked pointedly at the pan already simmering away there. “You mean the stove that I am currently using to cook dinner?”
“Yeah, well, obviously I’ll wait until you’re done.”
“You don’t honestly think I’m intending to eat all this myself, do you?” Hugh lifted the lid, releasing a fragrant waft of steam redolent with saffron and paprika.
“I dunno. Some—some types of shifter need to pack away a lot of protein.” For some reason, Ivy stumbled over the last sentence, her cheeks flushing. “I thought you might be a polar bear. Or just really hungry.”
“Neither. And this is to share. So put your terrible cardboard noodles away and get a plate.”
Ivy hesitated for a second, then took a scuffed tin plate out of her box. It was the sort of thing sold at army surplus stores. There was a big red X scrawled in enamel paint across the bottom.
“Something wrong with my plates?” Hugh asked as he ladled paella onto it.