But that was not what she wondered. "You could be fatter."
Berna was a constant critic of my weight; she thought me too thin, which had less to do with what I ate, which was plenty, than with my vampiric metabolism, which was fast. Had I not been a vampire and a lover of all things chocolate dipped and baconated, she probably would have given me a complex.
"I eat plenty," I said. Although in this case, I hadn't eaten in hours, and dinner had been interrupted.
Berna pursed her lips in obvious suspicion and stared down at me with a motherly look Mallory had probably seen a time or two.
"Fine. I guess I wouldn't mind a bite before I hit the road again."
There was a gleam of victory in her eyes.
Berna disappeared into the back room, and before the door shut fully again, I caught a few of Gabriel's words.
"Think, Mallory," he was telling her.
His tone didn't sound complimentary.
I worried my lip for a moment and decided to do something I rarely did - except in emergencies. I dropped the barriers that usually separated my working mind from my supersharp vampire senses, and I eavesdropped.
". . . it was the right thing to do," Mallory was saying.
"You think this is unusual?" Gabriel asked. "You think there won't come another time when you're driven to the breaking point, when you know using magic is the right thing to do? That's exactly what you said to yourself last time, Mallory, and that's the entire f**king point of this exercise."
"It's different this time," Mallory said.
"Is what the addict always says," Gabriel said. "Look, I'm not your father. I'm not even your warden, not really. You've got power; you could use it. I know that. You're here because you want your life to change. Because you want things to be better."
"How can they get better if I keep replaying the same scenario over and over and over again?" There was franticness in her voice, real and abiding fear. "That I'm going to f**k up everything again. That I'm going to f**k over everyone - again."
Gabriel paused. "That, Mallory, is the question you have to ask yourself. That's your work. Your struggle. Figure - "
Before I heard him finish the thought, the door opened and Berna emerged, a steaming bowl in her hands. I feigned interest in a soiled paper menu on the bar. What was a "Wolf Popper," anyway?
Berna placed the bowl on the bar in front of me, along with a spoon and paper napkin.
"What's this?" I asked.
"Stew," she said. "Eat."
I poked the spoon in. Although the bowl's chunky contents didn't look entirely familiar, they smelled delicious. I blew gently on a spoonful and took a bite, savoring the salty, smoky, tomatoey flavor.
"Tongue good for you," she said. "Much protein. You grow strong. Like oxen."
Of course it was tongue stew, and of course she wanted me to be an ox.
Fortunately, the stew was delicious, and I downed half the bowl before the door opened again. I expected to see Mallory, but Gabriel entered with Connor still in his arms.
Berna's expression softened, showing that hint of the motherly worry that was driving Mallory crazy. "She is good?"
"She'll be fine. I sent her back to the kitchen. The meat guys asked if they could come early today. They want to talk to you about the brisket order."
Berna murmured something in a language I didn't understand and slipped into the back room.
Gabriel took the stool beside me, Connor cooing between us.
"Is she in a lot of trouble?" I asked.
"I'm not her jailer."