Chapter 12 #2
When I turned back to Jesse, he watched me with a bemused expression.
“What?” I asked.
“Where did you learn to say thank you very much in Italian?”
Surprising Jesse van der Meer never got old. I put my napkin in my lap and reached for my wine. “I pay attention, Yes-say.”
He made a soft sound low in his throat, and I smiled at him over the rim of my glass.
The red went down dry and sharp. I took another sip and let it roll on my tongue.
We had plenty of time before tonight’s performance.
If we returned to the house right after lunch, we could squeeze in reciprocal hand jobs. Maybe a docking session in the shower.
A buzzing sound drifted from Jesse’s pocket.
Stefanos. The supernatural world’s most dedicated cock blocker.
I stabbed my fork into my rigatoni.
Jesse pulled out his phone and put it to his ear. “Van der Meer.”
I stuffed pasta in my mouth so I wouldn’t say anything that would get me in trouble.
“I spoke to the Council,” Stefanos said. He paused, and I swallowed my pasta—and a moan. Consolata was a goddess.
When Stefanos spoke again, his voice seemed to gain an edge.
“The elders agree that the absence of other wolves is unusual but probably nothing to be alarmed about. Our people move around. Ulfrik remains your priority. You and Caleb need to use caution at the opera tonight. I don’t trust Carlo Gesualdo. ”
“That makes two of us,” Jesse said. “Do you think the witches are masking Ulfrik’s scent?”
“We have an eye on the covens,” Stefanos said.
Not a no. I raised an eyebrow at Jesse before spearing a tomato on my fork.
“What about the Fae?” he asked.
Stefanos’s tone turned wry. “The Umbrals would rather seal off Undersomm than mingle with humans. The Fae haven’t meddled with affairs on this plane since iron drove them away. They have no reason to start now.”
Jesse frowned, thinking it over. “The vampires have speed and strength, but their blood magic is good for little else besides wards. That leaves the witches. We should speak to Sterling again.”
“It’s being handled,” Stefanos said lightly. Another pause. “Congratulations on rediscovering your gift, Caleb.”
I stared at the phone. Jesse stared at me.
“Thanks,” I said.
Stefanos let the silence stretch. “Be careful tonight, Jesse. You—”
“You’re forgetting something,” I said.
Jesse stiffened.
The silence on the line turned frosty. Fuck. Me and my big mouth.
“What have I forgotten?” Stefanos asked, each word carefully placed.
Too late for a mulligan. Jesse gave me an expectant look, a spanking dancing like sugarplums in his eyes.
“Werewolves,” I said. “We know they can go rogue. But what if a werewolf is just a shitty person? With the right motive, they could turn on their own kind. Maybe the call is coming from inside the house.”
Jesse didn’t move. I waited for Stefanos to tell me I was being stupid.
“A smart theory,” he said finally. “What made you think of it?”
Tension eased from my shoulders. “My dad works in insurance. Internal fraud is a big problem. No one wants to think their own people are stealing, but it happens. His company has a whole unit for it.”
Stefanos was quiet for a second. “I’ll look into it. In the meantime, stay alert.”
The line went dead.
Jesse lowered the phone. “That was a good catch.”
“Do you think I’m wrong?”
“You’re thinking of every possibility. It’s smart, just as Stefanos said.”
Warmth crawled into my cheeks and threatened to spread down my neck. I waved my fork toward the phone Jesse still held. “How did he know I was in the room?”
“Maybe he didn’t,” Jesse said. “Like Sterling, he drew you out.”
Son of a bitch. My irritation must have shown on my face because Jesse offered a patient smile.
“You’ll learn.”
“Or people could just stop being so cryptic all the time.”
“That would be nice,” Jesse said, sitting back and returning his attention to his phone. His thumbs flew as he typed.
“But unlikely.”
He said nothing, but his little smile told me I was right.
“What are Umbrals?” I asked.
“Fae leadership,” he said, eyes on his screen. “They’re all ancient, and most of them were gods before iron drove them from the world. No one knows exactly how many there are.”
Perfect. More thousand-year-old assholes in the world.
I ate a few more bites of pasta, then started on the cookies.
Thin crust gave way to a chewy center. Almond and something bitter like cherries spread over my tongue.
Then sweetness caught up to it, lodging in my molars.
I licked powdered sugar from my lips and grabbed a second cookie from the plate.
Across the table, Jesse continued typing on his phone. At least one of us had contact with the outside world. My abandoned Pardon My Take episode languished in my memory.
“Checking out Italian Grindr?” I asked.
He smiled without looking up. “This is an encrypted phone. No apps. And I’ve never used Grindr.”
“Okay.”
This time, he looked up. The smile glimmered in his eyes, but so did something else. Subtle but real, it froze my ass to my chair and made me stop breathing.
Under the table, he covered my foot with his. Like a dial being turned slowly, his irises lightened from brown to dazzling gold. He might as well have had his foot on my dick. Which was the point, my brain realized a half-second after my aforementioned dick.
“I’ve never had a Grindr account,” he said softly. “And I never will. Why would I when I have the perfect slut waiting for me at home?”
Lust detonated in my chest. Kaboom, boys, pack up and go home. “Perfect slut” had never been on my vision board, but now that he’d mentioned it, my dick was ready to add it to my resume.
“Good point,” I managed.
Jesse kept his foot on mine. His eyes glowed, and his voice stayed low as he added, “If you need more attention, baby, you only have to ask. I haven’t forgotten about seeing your pretty cock in a cage.”
My heart revved like the Lamborghini’s engine.
I hadn’t forgotten that damn cage, either.
He’d threatened it the morning of my very first shift, when I’d complained about getting up before dawn.
Jesse had responded with the same cool menace he radiated now, promising to cage my dick if I didn’t obey him.
I’d obeyed, but the threat of the cage occupied a permanent spot in my mind.
“Okay?” he prompted.
“Okay.”
“Say yes, sir.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, voice rasping like I’d just sucked down a carton of unfiltered Marlboros. I sounded ready to slide under the table and suck him off. So, yeah, “perfect slut” was pretty on the money.
He pulled his foot away and smiled. “Good. Finish your cookie.”
Goddamn dirty motherfucker. My dick pushed painfully against the front of my jeans. I shoved the rest of the cookie into my mouth.
Still smiling, Jesse turned back to his phone.
I chewed and swallowed. “Are you going to spank me for talking to Stefanos without running it by you first?”
Jesse finished whatever he was doing and slipped his phone in his pocket. His wolf flashed in his eyes as he plucked a cookie from the plate and broke it in half.
“Oh, honey. I was going to spank you either way.”
A half hour later, we thanked Consolata and made our way back into the heart of the city. Dark clouds had rolled over the buildings and turned the sky the color of slate. Thunder rumbled somewhere above the Vittoriano. Vespas laden with carryout bags sprinted past Romans on their lunch breaks.
My steps dragged a little, the day of sightseeing followed by carb-loading at Consolata’s making me want to faceplant into a nap.
As the first drops of rain started to fall, Jesse caught my sleeve and nodded toward a small, rust-colored building trapped between shops with displays of snowglobes and miniature Colosseums in their windows.
“That used to be a law firm,” he said, “but someone doing electrical work discovered Roman frescoes behind the walls. The restoration is ongoing. Not many people know about this place.”
“Let’s hit it up,” I said.
He gave me a closer look. “Are you too tired? We can come back—”
“I’m good.” When he looked skeptical, I squared my shoulders. “I’ve played four quarters of football after six hours on a charter bus. I can handle some frescoes.”