“But did she specifically say to bring bread?”
Theo looked at Connor for help, but Connor just shrugged.
“I got nothing, man.” He put an arm around my waist, kissed my temple. “Why are you interrogating your partner over bread?”
I grunted. “It’s a long story.” A long, smelly story.
“Is it related to deviled eggs?” Connor asked.
“I feel like I’ve stepped into some kind of alternate universe,” Theo said. “Are ‘bread’ and ‘deviled eggs’ code words for state enemies or secret missions or anything else that would actually make sense?”
“They are not,” Connor said. “I think we’re literally talking about bread and deviled eggs. And it looks like those aren’t the only two options, so I’m going to take the bread”—he plucked it from Theo’s hand—“and put it with the rest of the food, and grab myself something to eat, and you can discuss important Ombudsman things.”
I’d taken the night off yesterday to help Lulu clean and prep the loft, so it was possible I’d missed drama. “Do you have any important Ombudsman things to discuss?”
He frowned, considered. “River nymphs fighting over the Chicago River boardwalk again.”
“Old news,” I said. “Pass.”
He smirked. “Bank robbery by two of Claudia’s fairies?”
Claudia was the queen of Chicago’s band of rather mercenary fairies, including those who’d tried to magically shift Chicago into a facsimile of their green homeland.
“Getting warmer,” I said. “How much did they take?”
“They tried for about two hundred pounds of gold bullion because, you know, they like the shiny. But with the weight, they didn’t make it very far.”
“Arrogant of them,” I said. “What did Claudia have to say?”
“She said it was a ‘noble effort.’”
I snorted. That sounded just like her. Like the other fairies, she had a great love of gems and jewelry.
“Bread has been delivered,” Connor said, returning with three glasses of wine. “Meatballs have been devoured, and wine has been uncorked.”
“He’s handy,” Theo said, taking a sip. “I’m not much of a wine drinker, but this isn’t bad.”
“He is,” I agreed, and sipped. It wasn’t bad. Dry, but bright. A good drink on a late summer day, as we all waited for fall to cool off the city.
“A toast,” Theo said, raising his glass. “To friendships.”
“You’re such a dillhole,” Lulu said to Alexei nearby.
“And to whatever that is,” I said, and drank.
***
We talked and ate until midnight, then—because of a promise I’d made to our grouchy downstairs neighbor—did all that, but quieter. She lived two floors down and couldn’t possibly have heardanything we did in the loft. But that had never stopped her from complaining.
When the calendar turned, the noise dropped, and so did the humans. They left first, with take-out containers of deviled eggs Lulu had managed to shove into their arms on the way out.
When I heard the knock on the door, I sighed in resignation.
“I swear, Mrs. Prohaska,” I called out, as I strode toward it. “We’re done. Everyone’s gone.” Well, most of them. The core group was still here—me and Lulu, Connor and Alexei, Theo and Petra. Mostly supernaturals. All friends and partners.
I opened the door, fully expecting to see the tiny woman and her dark, beady eyes. But it wasn’t Mrs. Prohaska. There were three of them. Taller, stronger, and undoubtedly older.
Vampires, all in black. Two men and one woman, all of them pale skinned. None that I recognized.