Chapter 9 #2
Considering I was pretty sure he'd grown up at least reasonably content, I wasn't surprised that he didn't know what to say.
I lifted two fingers in a salute. "See you when you're hungry, I guess."
I turned away, and I walked toward the parking lot.
Despite everything that had just happened, every part of me except my chest felt lighter now that I had a little magic.
I felt alive, again.
And finally, I got to be alone.
…At least, I got to be alone for two seconds.
River plunged out of the sky and landed a few feet in front of me, releasing Jazz from his arms.
Dante was at my side almost as fast, though he refrained from touching me for once.
"We need to use your phone to call Grayson," Jazz said. "The mansion is too far for River to fly to after being imprisoned for so long, and we have no money or way to call a car."
Oh.
Fantastic.
"I don't have a phone," I said.
None of them replied immediately.
"You... don't have a phone?" Dante finally asked.
"Nope."
"How do you keep in contact with people?" Jazz countered.
"I don't keep in contact with people."
"What about your friends?" she pressed.
"I don't do friends, unless you count my pottery."
"Why would we count pottery?" she demanded.
I shrugged.
"Can you give us a ride?" Dante asked, much more politely than Jazz had.
Considering he was now relying on me for blood, his politeness made sense.
"If you know where it is, I guess," I said grudgingly. Considering I'd been the reason they were all in prison, a ride home seemed like a reasonable request.
"I'll navigate," he agreed.
I gave him a thumbs-up, and all three of them followed me to the back of the parking lot.
None of us said anything else until I hit the button to unlock my minivan. It gave its usual sad, dying chirp.
All three of my undesired companions stopped at the trunk as I strode to the driver's seat.
"This is your car?" Jazz asked, her voice incredulous.
"Yep." I slipped inside.
The entire back was usually full, but I had been so focused on the prison stuff that I hadn't made any other pottery in ages. My bank account was in the gutter, but it might recover eventually.
I'd probably need to go to the fae to ask for help again. I'd already done that when I ran out of money six months earlier, so I wasn't exactly looking forward to it. I'd been living on cup noodles since then, to stretch out the small amount of cash Callum Frost had reluctantly forked over for me.
That guy was an asshole, but him and his Cabinet would probably help again if I asked.
When I asked.
I was pretty sure I only had a few dollars and a few more cups of noodles left. I'd paid the utility bills with the last of my cash a few days before I went into the prison, so at least I had water and power.
Dante took the passenger seat.
Jazz and River climbed into the back, eyeing the piles of blankets, pillows, rags, and foam that I had stacked in random plastic bins. Nothing was organized, or arranged in any particular method.
River had to move some of the boxes to get the seats up, but I avoided looking at him.
"What's all this stuff for?" Jazz asked.
"Pottery transportation."
I reversed, and pulled out onto the road.
Dante fiddled with the air conditioning knobs, and the seat's angle, as he quietly instructed me when to turn.
He was clearly feeling uncomfortable.
So was I.
Jazz gripped the seatbelt a little too tightly. She held River's hand that way, too.
"So, Grayson is mated with the autumn fae queen? Merrily?" Jazz asked.
"Yeah," I confirmed. "All of the fae royals have mates now. That's all I know about politics, so don't ask me more questions."
"How do you know about them being mated, then?" Dante asked.
"I don't live entirely under a rock."
I wasn't going to admit that I'd had to ask one of them for money so I could continue eating while working on getting the demon royals out of prison.
"How often do you need to feed now that the mate bond lets you take as much as you need?" I asked Dante.
"Every few days is fine."
"He needs blood every day," Jazz corrected. "Don't let him lie to you."
"Every other day is plenty," Dante said.
"We can meet at the grocery store or something," I agreed.
He didn't even consider that. "We're not meeting at a grocery store. I'll reach out through the bond when I need to feed, and we'll figure something out then."
My entire face wrinkled. "Don't talk to me through the bond. That's way too intimate. I don't want anyone in my head but me."
"Then I'll get you a phone. We can text," he said.
"I don't answer texts. We can just have a standing arrangement at a coffee shop if you're too fancy for grocery stores. There's probably a Werewolf Café right between our houses. It's kind of a long drive, but if we meet halfway—"
"Turn here," Dante said, gesturing to the right lane. "We're not meeting at a café, either. We'll figure something out when we've had time to adjust to being back in the city."
Right.
It had been twelve years since he was in Rumor. He was probably overwhelmed.
I was too, but I'd only been in prison for a week.
We were all quiet for the rest of the drive.