Page 91 of A Shade of Myself
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The first thingI did Wednesday morning was touch base with Ryann that vamps were after Learsdon and while they didn’t know where he was, she might want to track down a bloodsucker called Dagmar. If Dagmar got to Learsdon before the Lonestars, not only would I be denied answers, I’d never know if he’d blabbed about my magic and someone else would come after me to pick up where he’d left off.
That’s when Laurent showed up to make me keep my promise about the run. I was so antsy that I didn’t even try to weasel out of it.
After a quick warm-up, we jogged in silence, which was good because I could either run or talk. But once we hit his predetermined halfway point and turned back, he spoke up. “I haven’t had a chance to find out everything that’s been going on with you since I’ve been away.”
I used some of my precious energy to squint at him, because this was unheard of. “You willingly want to hear me discuss my life?”
“Maman remarked that my social skills had improved,” he said with a curmudgeonly expression. “She made me promise to keep it up.”
I heaved a sigh. “I’m just a means to an end.”
“Yes, so keep your monologue to five minutes or less.”
I elbowed him, but laughing, he dodged me. Jogging and speaking. Right. I could do this.
Two minutes later, I decided I couldn’t and slowed to a walk. “It’s time for the cool-down portion. Very important to prevent cramping.”
Laurent raised an eyebrow but let me get away with it.
The fur and claws came out when he learned about James. Laurent seemed as upset about the events at Davide’s house being a test for me as the fact that two people were inhabited by dybbuks and one was now dead.
“I will kill him.” Laurent’s words were muddy because he spoke through elongated teeth.
I stopped in my tracks, spinning him around so that I faced the street and he faced a row of hedges. “No. You have to swear not to go after Learsdon.” I stroked his arm. “Let the Lonestars deal with him. There are already vamps hunting the man and I know you can handle it, but I don’t want you to put yourself in danger over this.”
His wolf characteristics grew more extreme before he wrestled them under control. Once he was fully human again, he nodded and sighed. “D’accord.”
I didn’t discuss Giselle’s case because of client confidentiality, but I did tell him about Uncle Jake’s letter and the Ascendant. I didn’t mention Emmett’s prophecy, nor did I share Jude’s insights on the Wise Brothers, the golem, and raven shifters. Given Laurent’s reaction to James, he’d go full wolf on me hearing about the rest. Not a great situation to handle in broad daylight.
He listened to the rest of my story without comment, only interrupting a couple of times for clarification, and by the time I finished, we were back at my place.
We didn’t even have sweaty shower sex when the training session was done. Rude. He escorted me up the stairs, laughed when I collapsed in my foyer, then with a reminder to stretch, sprinted off to run six times around the city or whatever.
He and I were going to have a talk about motivation. Running for survival’s sake was theoretically a good reason but, in reality, was rather lackluster. I did best with immediate gratification.
I was that kid who lived for getting gold stars. I’d moved past that as an adult, but would an orgasm for every successful kilometer I ran be so remiss? I’d even take a kiss. Or a brownie. I was amenable to many different options.
By the time I got out of the shower, Yoshi had come through with a text containing an address in Venice and the words “Cocktail attire. Now.”
I threw on the silky blue dress I’d worn to the speakeasy dinner with Giselle, wrangled my hair and makeup into something vaguely glam, and hit the Kefitzat Haderech. I’d find Aurora and if I got to kill an illusion-happy demon along the way? My day would be perfect.
After a quick hello to Pyotr, I took a sock, stuffing it in my clutch. I’d add it to my ever-growing collection of lost socks in my bedroom closet, which I really needed to clean out. Minutes later, I stepped out to a beautiful summer night in the shadows of an Italian boutique hotel made of pale pink stone with a bright white arched portico. It was 1AM here and the streets were alive with people spilling out of restaurants and bars.
I winked at a drunk couple that I’d startled, then strolled into the lobby dazzled by the intricate pattern of the marble floor and the enormous crystal chandelier, both of which managed to stay on the right side of good taste. Faint piano music echoed through the space from deeper in the building, so I followed it to open glass doors at the back.
Where I was promptly stopped by two enormous men dressed in black with earpieces who spoke to me in Italian.
“English?” I said.
“Do you have an invitation?” The man held one of those handheld metal detectors. What kind of event had this level of security?
“Is this a private party?” I looked between the two, but the second guy remained stone-faced.
The first one finally gave a brusque nod. Thanks for the stunning amount of information.
“Sorry.” I spun around and walked back into the lobby. My shoulders prickled like they were watching me, which I confirmed was the case when I glanced back. I didn’t slow down until I turned down the short corridor to the restrooms, at which point I cloaked myself and walked back in, deftly avoiding the guards.
