“Vlad just came in. I’ll tell him. If he agrees, I’ll tell all the stores.”
Tess hung up and stood to one side of the archway, watching the Sierra and that Cyrus, who had taken a seat.
“We’ve got quiche with seasonal fruit this morning,” the Sierra said. “And we have fresh muffins and some pastries left over from yesterday.”
“I’m not eating that shit,” that Cyrus replied. “I’ll have some bacon with scrambled eggs and fried potatoes and buttered toast. And coffee.”
“We don’t make that kind of breakfast,” the Sierra whined. “It’s a coffee shop, Jimmy.”
“You got the fixings here. You can go in the kitchen and make it for me.” That Cyrus leaned toward the Sierra, who cowered but didn’t have enough sense to walk away. “You owe me, Sissy. You lied to me about the situation here, so you owe me. Now, get your ass in the kitchen and cook me up some breakfast.”
Nadine stepped into the front room. “My kitchen is off-limits to everyone but Tess.”
Tess glanced at Nadine. Then she considered the knife in Nadine’s hand and the weirdly calm fury in the woman’s eyes.
Shit. <Henry, I need you here now.>
Her hair turned red with threads of black as she strode into the coffee shop, a predator to be reckoned with. “This coffee shop works the same way as any other in the city. You order the food, you pay for the food, and then you take it with you or eat it here.” She stayed focused on that Cyrus, struggling to stay in control while the threads of black in her hair turned into streaks—a warning that she was getting closer and closer to her true nature. She wanted to blacken his organs, turn them into festering slush. She wanted to make it rain inside his skull while she harvested his life energy. She didn’t care if she damaged the Sierra, but she didn’t want to hurt Nadine, so she had to stay in control, had to avoid taking that last step toward her true nature.
“Sissy can pay,” that Cyrus said.
“She’s tapped out,” Tess snapped. “So unless you have cash for the food, get out.”
That Cyrus rose, knocking the chair over. “Who do you think you are?”
She didn’t want to tell him. She wanted to show him.
“Tess?” Merri Lee’s voice from the archway. “Should I call the police?”
“Human law doesn’t apply here,” Henry growled, coming in from the back door.
She knew by the expression on that Cyrus’s face that Henry didn’t look completely human.
That Cyrus looked at all of them, then headed for the front door. Pausing as he pushed the door open, he hawked and spat on the coffee shop’s floor.
Feeling Henry move to block Nadine, and hoping Merri Lee had enough sense to hide, Tess shouted, “Hey!” In that moment when Cyrus looked toward her, her hair turned black with a few threads of red and she looked away before he saw more than the tiniest glimpse of what she was. He clutched at his chest, staggered out the door, and almost stumbled in front of an oncoming car before righting himself.
It didn’t feel like she had harvested enough life to damage him permanently, but that brief look at her should weaken him for a day.
The human mask wasn’t sufficiently in place, so Tess avoided looking at anyone—and hoped none of them were looking at her. <Are Nadine and Merri Lee all right?> she asked Henry as she headed for the hallway.
<Vlad pulled Merri Lee into HGR so she wouldn’t see, and I blocked Nadine and the Sierra,> he replied.
<We’ll finish this,> Simon said. <You need some quiet time.>
Startled, Tess almost looked up. When had the Wolfgard arrived?
<Nadine needs quiet time too,> she said.
<She’ll get it. Julia Hawkgard is here. She’ll take care of customers. Merri Lee can help and take things out of the oven.>
<I’ll go upstairs.> She had an office up there that she’d turned into a cozy nest where she could rest and still keep an eye on the shop during the day.
Keeping her eyes lowered, Tess went upstairs. Once she was safely alone, she looked in the mirror that hung on one wall. Black hair streaked with red, the coils beginning to relax. A face that, once again, looked human.
She had managed to contain her true nature—or enough of it.
She wondered if she was the only one regretting her self-control.
Simon had come in too late to see the start of the fracas, but he was going to put a stop to this part of the trouble.
Hearing Vlad’s angry hiss, he glanced toward the archway in time to see Merri Lee elbow the Sanguinati in the ribs and break free.
Great. Now they had to deal with one of the exploding fluffballs as well as . . .
“By all the gods, what is wrong with you?” Nadine snarled as she turned on the Sierra, her hand tightening on the knife handle.
That. <Call Lieutenant Montgomery,> he told Vlad.
<Already did,> Vlad replied.
Montgomery and Kowalski came in through the front door, avoided the gob on the floor, and scanned the room, taking in the people and their positions. A young woman hustled in behind them, then froze just inside the door.
“Mr. Wolfgard . . . ,” Montgomery began.
Nadine swung toward Montgomery. “I have things to say!”
“You can say all of them after you give me the knife,” Henry said.
She looked at the fur-covered hand clamped around her wrist. She blinked and offered no resistance when Henry took the knife.
Simon wondered if she even knew she’d been holding it.
“Now,” Henry rumbled as he released Nadine and stepped back, “say what needs to be said.”
Nadine turned back to the Sierra. “How long are you going to pander to that man?”
“He’s my brother!” The Sierra’s voice cracked. She looked at Montgomery. “We’re supposed to help family.”
“You’re supposed to help him lie, cheat, steal?” Nadine demanded. “Or does he remain above it while you become the liar, the cheat, the thief?”
“No! It’s not like that!”
“He wants a full breakfast, so you’re going to use the supplies here? Were you even going to offer to pay for them, or were you hoping no one would notice missing supplies when we keep track of every egg and stick of butter? And after he’d eaten his fill here, would he have persuaded you to fill up a bag with food to take with him? Would you have paid for it or pretended that you didn’t know who took the breakfast sandwiches and pastries?”
The Sierra started to cry. “Jimmy doesn’t have any money to buy food.”
“He had money yesterday when he went to the Stag and Hare,” Nadine snapped. “Unless he makes friends awfully fast, he had to pay for his drinks and food there.” She looked disgusted. “Yesterday you took home dinner for three people. Did you end up splitting it seven ways because he claimed he didn’t have money?” Her disgust deepened. “Or did he get half the food because he’s the man and the rest of you split what was left?”
Simon frowned. That wasn’t right. The Sierra and her pups should have eaten their fill first since she was the one who had done the work for the food. But larger predators did steal food from smaller ones. Maybe that’s how it had always worked in the Montgomery pack, with that Cyrus waiting until the Sierra brought home food and then taking it away from her.
He studied Montgomery and saw a grim expression on the lieutenant’s face—and sadness in the man’s dark eyes.
Anger in Kowalski’s face—and in Merri Lee’s. Who had caused the anger? That Cyrus or the Sierra, or both?