I put the glass on the table. “Was that good or disgusting?”
“It was... yes,” Lulu decided on, smacking her lips as if to study the taste. “One or both of those.”
“Lightweight,” Connor said this time, then drained his glass.
As if on cue, steaming platters of food were placed in front of us, the peppers so strong my eyes began to water. But god, the smell of it. Roasted meat and pale masa, flecked with salty white cheese and sharp cilantro.
“We’ll see about that,” I said and dug in.
***
I ate more than I needed, but less than I wanted, which I figured was about right. Alexei challenged Lulu to a round of pool at a table that looked like it had seen one too many fights. It was squeezed into a corner of the bar, so aiming took a lot of maneuvering around walls and literally bullish-looking patrons.
It was just... wonderful. “Can I swear fealty to this place?”
“No. But they do have a punch card.” To demonstrate, Connor pulled one from his pocket. Eight of the ten little squares had been punched through with a hole the shape of—
“That’s not a hot dog, is it?”
“No, brat, it is not.” He smiled, put the card away. “I’m glad you like it. Not surprised, but glad.”
“Are you talking about the punch card or the restaurant?”
“Both,” he said and leaned forward, elbows on the table, and rubbed a thumb across my jaw. He liked doing that; seemed to find comfort in doing that. And his face had gone suddenly somber, suddenly grave. And a little bit sad. “I want you to know... I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“I didn’t ask you to protect me. We help protect each other.” And saying the words aloud proved to me the truth, engraved that truth upon my heart.
“We protect each other,” he agreed. “You know it’s possible the killer will hurt someone else and say it’s for you.”
I searched his troubled eyes, trying to find the root of the sudden concern. “Maybe,” I said, and that admission was a vise around my heart. “And I probably won’t be able to stop it.”
I’d been trying not to think about it, trying not to consider that every person behind me, in front of me, around me, might have been watching me. But it was undeniable: The stalker, the killer, was out there. Even if I’d never seen them, they were out there, relying on an emotional connection that wasn’t real, but had been enough to drive them to violence.
This was vulnerability. Not physically; I had as good a chance at beating an attacker as anyone, especially if the monster played along. But there was an intimacy to being watched, to being seen in moments I’d thought I was alone, that made me feel exposed. And I didn’t like that.
“I don’t want you to think I’m like the killer,” Connor said.
I blinked, stared at him, absolutely baffled. “What?”
“Whoever is doing this.” He ran a hand through his hair.
“Why would I think that?” But understanding dawned when I asked the question. “Because you’d do what you needed to do to protect me.”
He nodded.
“Connor, we’ve both killed, but not to prove a point. Not to prove love, or what someone believes to be love. That’s not what love is. That’s not who you are.”
He looked at me for a long time, then squeezed my hand. Before he could speak, his screen buzzed. He pulled it out, glanced at it. His expression didn’t change, but I saw the heat in his eyes.
“What’s up?” Alexei asked, as he and Lulu returned to the table.
“The Compliance Bureau vamps are at the NAC building.”
I hadn’t even had time to ask a question—or be irritated that Theo hadn’t warned us—when my own screen buzzed:confirmed bureau staying at portman grand. tail being set up.
Better late than never, I thought. And gave them a head start.go to pack hq, I suggested.bureau already there.
His next message was mostly cursing, and a warning that the Ombuds couldn’t touch the Bureau unless they did something. I had a feeling that wouldn’t take long.