He grinned. “Maybe I erred a little far. I don’t want you to starve. And I actually asked Miranda to stock the fridge. She, let’s say, poured herself into the task.”
“That’s truly awful.”
“I just woke up” was his defense.
That Miranda had bought the bottles probably explained why she hadn’t been at the party. She was here instead.
“I’m sure Miranda was thrilled to help,” I said dryly.
“She wasn’t, of course.” He smiled, but moved closer, rested hisarm on the door, and peered inside. “Did she get anything good? I didn’t pay much attention last night.”
“She bought the most ridiculous—and probably the most expensive—options. Nothing basic. Nothing simple. Everything with flavors and seltzers and swirls.”
Brows raised, he took out a bottle. “Free-range, shade-grown vegan blood product.” He looked at me. “Why would a vampire want vegan blood?”
“Why would a shifter buy it for a vampire?” I countered.
“Touché. Probably to insult her.” He slid the bottle back into its slot. “Is there something in here you can actually drink?”
“I’ll be fine.” I preferred my blood unadulterated or flavored, but I’d live. Because I was immortal. “I appreciate the gesture. It was thoughtful.”
“It wasn’t meant to be. As you pointed out, I’m trying to keep you from snacking on us. It’s good, practical Apex behavior.”
“Said the man who chases prey on four legs. Why is Miranda even here? Is she close to your family?”
“Coincidence, or so she says. She’s got friends in the clan, and had already arranged the visit.”
“Hmm,” I said vaguely, fairly certain there was nothing coincidental about it, and grabbed the simplest flavor I could find—“Hint o’ Lemon.” I closed the refrigerator, twisted off the cap. “Would you like a drink?”
He looked at the bottle for a very long time, a man facing a tricky dilemma. “If I say no, will you think less of me?”
“Don’t you eat prey on the run?”
“Isn’t that a book title?”
I just lifted my eyebrows.
“I’m a wolf,” he said, eyes flashing like he’d already made the shift into that form.
The coffeemaker finished its cycle, and he poured a mug, passed it to me, then poured one for himself.
I took a drink of the blood, bit back a grimace at the tang. And swallowed a mouthful of coffee to erase the aftertaste.
“Well, Mr. Wolf, what’s on our agenda tonight?”
“Initiation,” he said. “But first we’ll go pay our respects to the other elders.”
I grinned. “That’s very... politic.”
“If you call me a vampire again, I’ll make you drink the vegan blood.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
Connor snorted. “After the initiation, we’ll have dinner with my family. It’s tradition for the initiate’s family to host a meal.”
“What do wolves eat to celebrate a new member of the Pack?”
“An old member of the Pack,” he said, and laughed when my eyes widened. “That was a joke.”