“I do not,” I said. “And I doubt even shifters would get drunk enough to climb the actual walls.”
“One never knows,” she said, and was beckoned by someone across the room. “I’ll catch you later.”
“Have fun,” I said, and she moved through the crowd again.
A hush fell over the room. I looked around, thinking she was about to make a speech, or I’d been wrong about the effect of booze on shifters and someone actually was inching up the mural. But that’s not why they’d gone silent.
“Well, well,” Theo said, gaze on the corridor at the other end of the space. “Look who’s back in town.”
I scanned the crowd, and my gaze came to a halt just as Theo’s had done.
Connor Keene, the prince of wolves, had come home.
If “swagger” was a mood, he’d perfected it.
Connor was tall and broad shouldered, hard muscle under taut, sun-kissed skin. His hair was dark and wavy, his eyes pale blue under thick brows. His jawline was chiseled and marked by a sexy dimple in the chin.
He was the son of the North American Central Pack’s Apex, and he moved into the room like a prince among royals. I’d have called it arrogance if he wasn’t able to back up his words with action. Even if I didn’t know that beneath that wicked facade there was competence, care for those within his circle, and an unquestionable loyalty to the Pack, I’d have put money on his being Apex one day. His power was strong enough to send eddies of magic swirling in the room.
It had been weeks since I’d seen him, since we’d fought back a group of fairies intent on destroying Chicago by replacing our world with theirs... and he and I had shared a shockingly good kiss.
It was strange to have kissed someone—to havewantedto kiss someone—who’d driven me crazy as a kid. But he’d grown up, become a different kind of man.
He’d stayed in Chicago to help us fight despite Pack obligations that would have otherwise sent him across the country. But when our battle was done, duty called again. Not in Alaska, but in the Pack’s Midwestern territory, where he’d been sent to solve problems that arose as the Pack traveled cross-country.
We’d texted while he was gone. He told me about the drama he was dealing with, the internal and external politics of the Pack. I told him about my daily interactions with paperwork and Supernaturals. Having been raised a vampire—the most political of Supernaturals—I was smart enough to understand the subtext: The prince of wolves was making time for me.
It took only a moment for his predatory gaze to track through the partygoers and land on me. When surprise and pleasure flashed in his eyes, I was very, very glad that I’d skipped denim and leather for a body-skimming midcalf dress of deep vampire black. I’d left my sword and scabbard at the loft, but I’d tucked a dagger into a thigh garter, and my red heels were thin and high enough to serve as literal stilettos in an emergency. My hair, long and blond and wavy, was loosely tied at my shoulder with a thin ribbon of deep crimson velvet.
Connor began to cross the room, making his way toward me like a missile locked on its target. Anticipation was like an electric charge across my skin.
When Connor and I had been kids—and hadn’t liked each other very much—I’d seen him with plenty of girlfriends. All shades, all shapes, all sizes. Always gorgeous. I hadn’t been jealous of them, but I’d definitely been curious, wondering what it was like to be the object of his attention, to be the one he was walking toward.
It was a thrill. A song, low and sexy and seductive.
“Brat,” he said to me when he reached us. The nickname was a holdover from our icy childhood, but his tone was plenty warm. “Theo.”
“You never call,” Theo said. “You never write.”
Connor kept his gaze on me, and I could all but feel my blood heating from the power of it. “I wrote the ones that needed writing.”
The words were a thrill, the emotion still a shock. As was the fact that we’d grown from irritating enemies to... something very different.
“How was Colorado?” I asked.
“You do some skiing?” Theo wondered.
Connor shook his head. “Shifters in Colorado who don’t acknowledge the Pack’s existence had some objections to our riding through what they call their territory.”
Theo nodded. “I’m assuming the Pack disagrees?”
“The Pack does, but it’s handled. For now.”
I took a guess. “Because the Pack made it through Colorado, but you still have some thoughts?”
“Feelings linger,” he agreed, gaze on me. “I’m leaving again tomorrow.”
Disappointment covered desire like a heavy cloud. But before I could ask for details, another shifter slipped to Connor’s side.