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it on Tuesdays and it's got these crunchy things on top. Just a little spice but not overkill, too. And-" he cleared his throat, scowling. "Anyway. That's what I'd suggest."

I smirked. "Yeah. Sounds good. Thanks. Can you get something for Maisey, though? She hasn't eaten since we got here."

"She probably can still eat one or two more normal meals," Riggs said, as if to himself. "I'll bring her something."

Gravy Boat hopped down from the bed to circle Rigg's feet. Riggs looked down at him in disgust. "What does the beast eat?"

"Fish is his favorite."

Riggs' lip curled. "Alright. Get off me, asshole. I'll bring you something." He stepped out of the room, then popped just his head back in a second later. "I'm locking this, by the way."

"Would that stop a vampire?" I asked.

"No," he admitted. "But like I said, there are rules and traditions. They won't come here for you. They'd start an all-out war if they did."

"What if one of the werewolves or the howler things you mentioned smells Maisey?"

"They know you're mine. That will at least hold them back for long enough that you'll be safe for me to go grab food."

"Are you their boss?"

Riggs, who was still only visible from the neck up, considered my question. "I was their alpha. The pack leader for this region. I gave that up, but the influence that came with my power doesn't just disappear because I stepped down. So, relax. You'll be fine while I'm gone. Probably," he added.

"Hey," I said before he could close the door. "Could you get me and Maisey some basic toiletries if we're going to be trapped in here? Shampoo, deodorant, toothpaste? Hand sanitizer? Maybe even some fresh clothes?" I added, almost like a plea. I was running desperately low on my hand sanitizer, and I already could feel panic chills threatening to set in.

"Yeah, sure," Riggs said. "Do you have a preferred scent, or do you want us to pick for you?"

"I actually really like lavender, but if-"

"I was fucking with you. You'll get what you get."

And with that, he closed the door.

I flopped back on the bed and sighed. Just when I caught myself wondering if Riggs was really so bad, he’d go and say something like that.

I’d actually dated a guy once in high school. I met him in one of my virtual school classes. We’d video chat each other after class each day, and sometimes talk for hours. He was into books like I was, even if they weren’t the same ones. We still had fun suggesting stories to each other. I’d tease him about how dorky his favorite fantasy and sci fi books were and he’d joke about how sappy and lame my romances were.

He’d been so nice to me at first, but little by little, it soured. He started pressuring me to meet in person. No matter how I explained it, he would try to lay the guilt on hard enough to change my mind, but my sister always cut that idea off. The last thing you need to be doing is swapping spit with some teenager who probably bathes once a week.

She was right, of course, but I still resented her for it. And the resentment only got worse when he started making excuses to miss our calls after class. Eventually, he broke up with me and blocked me online.

I remembered thinking how the part that hurt most was seeing him go from this sweet, nice guy who seemed to really like me to a cold and heartless bastard over the course of a few weeks. Mostly, people figured out something was wrong with me and they didn’t bother getting close. He was different, and he was worse. I’d spent the years since remembering how it felt to watch him sour on me in real time.

And now there was Riggs.

Of course, I had to take all the supernatural stuff and throw that as far to the side as possible before I could even start to look at the situation.

What I saw made my heart beat faster. I’d seen enough movies and read enough books to see through the smokescreens. People lied with their words all the time, but it wasn’t as common for them to lie with their actions. And Riggs? His words said I was a nuisance he wished he could be rid of as soon as possible.

His actions, though? I thought of him coming all the way from the street to my apartment to tell me how reckless my little paper airplane was. Or how he’d apparently thought enough of the interaction to keep an eye on my apartment, because he was right there when we needed him. I thought of him carrying me when I got sick, and now looking after me and my sister. Protecting us.

I stared at the ceiling; brow furrowed in thought.

The question haunting me was what I’d do if Riggs actually did care about me like that? Would I want to go down the same road I’d gone with my virtual boyfriend back in high school? Force him to make accommodations for my condition until he felt as trapped as I was and decided to run for greener pastures?

I let out a frustrated sigh and rolled to my side, staring at the door where he’d left.

I was probably wasting my time thinking about it. All I needed to do was remember that Riggs was a man. A full blown, bonafide man. I was probably like a little, stupid girl to him. In all likelihood, I was misreading things.

He popped back in the room, maybe less than a couple minutes since he’d left. β€œCrab or lobster?” he asked.

β€œWhat?”

β€œI’m getting you fried fish cakes. What do you prefer, crab or lobster?”

β€œI thought I was going to get what I get,” I said, trying to mimic his deep voice.

Riggs glared. β€œLobster, then.”

The door closed, and I found myself grinning.

16

Sylvie

I lost track of time but thought it had maybe been a day since Riggs

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