They might have liked the rock-and-roll lifestyle, but shifters had pretty conservative opinions about relationships. It was related, or so Connor said, to their relationship to the earth and the belief that even an alpha occasionally needed a second opinion. Shifters partnered with shifters, and generally of the same animal variety, although Gabriel’s aunt Fallon had loosened that rule when she’d married a shifter who transformed into a white tiger.
“I’m not Apex,” he said. “Yet.”
There was a high whistle, then a ringing of silver against crystal. All eyes turned to my father, who stood beside my mother (also in sleek Cadogan black—an off-the shoulder column that skimmed the ground, with long, fitted sleeves of black lace on tulle) on the brick patio at the edge of the House. The crowd quieted, turned to face him.
“I don’t want to interrupt the party,” he said. “I just wanted to take this opportunity to express our gratitude for the steps you’ve taken tonight toward a lasting peace. The road to that peace will not be easy. It will not be smooth. But it is worth the effort.” He lifted his glass. “To peace.”
“To peace!” the crowd echoed.
“And I’d be remiss,” he continued, “if I didn’t mention how proud we are to have our daughter home once again, even if for a little while.”
I smiled politely at the supernaturals who all turned to stare at me.
“Just imagine the rest of the crowd is naked,” Connor murmured behind me. “It’ll help.”
Spoiler alert: It didn’t.
NINE
Eventually my father moved on, and the guests’ attention went back to the food and drinks and other guests.
Theo walked toward us with a woman in a long-sleeved dress of emerald green. Her skin was tan, her hair dark and straight with golden highlights, her eyes wide and dark under long, dark brows.
“Hey, Elisa,” Theo said.
“Hey. Theo, do you know Connor Keene?”
“Sure,” Theo said, and stuck out his free hand. “I mean, I don’t think we’ve met officially, but I know who you are. Good to meet you.”
“Theo works for the Ombudsman’s office,” I said.
I glanced at the woman he was with, and memories fired. She seemed familiar, but it wasn’t until I saw she wore satin gloves in the same shade as the dress that I realized why.
“Oh, my god!” I said. “Petra!”
She smiled and held up a hand. “Hey, Elisa.”
“I barely recognized you!”
“Yeah, I got a lot taller,” she said with a smile. “My dad’s six-two. And it’s been like”—she lifted her gaze, counting to herself—“eight years?”
“About that,” I said, then looked at Theo and Connor. “Petra and I were tutored together until she moved. Wyoming, wasn’t it?”
“Wisconsin,” she said. “Dad’s an accountant with a big firm. We got transferred.”
And we hadn’t done a very good job of keeping in touch with each other. “Are you back in Chicago now?”
“Have been for about a year.”
“That’s great. How’s the aeromancy gig?”
“Aeromancy?” Connor asked, brows lifted.
Petra turned her wide smile to him. “I can commune with the weather. Hear it, influence it a little. Lightning and I have a unique relationship.”
“Thus the gloves,” I said, and she nodded.
“That’s... frightening and impressive,” Connor said, which I figured was about the correct reaction. “Can I see?”