“Yeah, you right.”
A few minutes later, Arnie prepared to turn onto Nashville Avenue from Magazine, and I saw three things in quick succession, none of which made me happy.
First, on the right-hand corner, a few stray antique bricks littered a patch of bare dirt, all that was left of the foundation of the 1870s Victorian camelback house where I’d made my home until last month. The last two weeks had been filled with a flurry of phone calls and insurance forms as I made arrangements to have the few unburned parts of it demolished and removed. The last little bits of my home had been hauled away to a landfill two days ago, leaving only a few bricks to remind me of all I had lost.
My sorrow morphed into a scowl when I glanced at the opposite corner, where Quince Randolph had emerged from the doorway of his Plantasy Island nursery and was walking toward Eugenie’s house with a purposeful stride. He was bundled in a thick white sweater, a white leather coat, and blue jeans. As usual, he looked like a beautiful, exotic Russian snow prince, all tall and lean, with his long, wavy blond hair and graceful motion. And, today, boots, scarf, gloves, and a fedora-style hat of a shade of deep teal blue that probably matched his eyes to perfection.
He could not get inside Eugenie’s house, even if I had to tackle and hog-tie him with his own pretty scarf.
Giving Arnie a generous tip not only to help him out but to ensure he remained my best cab-driving buddy, I lugged my bags out, trying to protect my right arm. I nodded at Rand with a big, fake smile and turned to the third source of my displeasure—Alex Warin, sitting on Eugenie’s front steps. What part of I’ll come to your place about seven hadn’t been clear?
Not that I would mind seeing him under normal circumstances, but Eugenie’s bombshell had blown us way past normal. I didn’t want to tell him yet, either. Not until Eugenie took this pregnancy test and we knew for sure.
Unlike me and, apparently, Rand, the cold weather agreed with Alex. Like most shifters, he was hot-natured, so he not only wore no coat but had the sleeves of his black sweater pushed up. The cold wind blushed his cheeks and nose a ruddy shade of pink that looked good on him.
“How come you’re sitting on the porch?” I asked, keeping Rand’s rapid approach in my peripheral vision. “But since you’re here, help me run interference. Eugenie’s not feeling well and Rand can’t come in. Shoot him if you have to.”
“If I could shoot him without starting a preternatural war, I’d be all over that.” Alex stood up and tugged the heavy soda cartons out of my hands, leaving me with my bag full of chocolate and a discreet little box neither he nor Rand needed to see. I wedged the whole thing into the top of the cross-body messenger bag I’d started wearing to accommodate my shoulder wound.
Rand strode up at a fast clip. “I’ve been trying to talk to you, Dru.” He ignored Alex, who set down the soda and crossed his arms, barricading the front door. Bless his enforcer heart. He did intimidation really well, only I wasn’t sure Rand could be intimidated.
“I’ve been busy,” I told him. Yeah, busy ignoring his mental pings. The more I responded to his nonverbal comments or questions, the more it would encourage him to use that infuriating skill. I’d gotten good at blocking him out. “What’s so urgent?”
He pulled his coat around him more tightly and danced from foot to foot like a show pony. “We need to talk about the council meeting tomorrow. Can we go inside? I can’t stand this weather.”
“No, Eugenie’s not feeling well and you’d upset her.” True enough. “I’ll call you later tonight.”
“Can’t we just go in for a minute?” Rand’s teeth chattered. What a wimp. It was cold, but it wasn’t that cold.
Rand sidled around me and walked toward Eugenie’s front door, stopping a foot from Alex, who didn’t budge, even when Rand’s teal fedora butted his forehead.
“She said she’d call you, Randolph. Go home.”
Rand didn’t answer, nor did he back off. Within seconds, sweat popped out on Alex’s face and the muscles in his jaw tensed. Rand was doing some kind of mental crap on him.
Stop that, you jerk! I yelled at Rand in my head. I yelled really, really loud.
Rand winced and clapped his hands to his temples, and Alex relaxed. Then he pulled a knife out of his jeans pocket and flicked it open an inch from Rand’s chin. It was a wicked little combat blade with a jagged edge.
Good grief; we didn’t need a preternatural incident on Eugenie’s porch. I stepped between them, facing the elf. “Please go home, Rand. I’ll call you tonight. I promise.”
He dropped his gazed from Alex to me. “You are my mate, not his. Don’t forget that, Dru.”
Turning quickly, he trotted down the front steps and stalked back toward Plantasy Island.