"What's that?" I asked, fearing a new magical addiction or another demigod with an attitude.
The answer came quickly, and it was decidedly shorter than a demigod.
"Mishka!"
Mallory frowned as a barrel-chested woman with bleached hair stepped out of the truck and headed our way. She was a shifter named Berna, and she tended bar and worked the kitchens at Little Red. She also supervised Mallory, apparently to Mallory's chagrin.
"She calls you Mishka?" I wondered.
"Among other things. And she's driving me crazy." Mallory picked up more aluminum trays, then turned to Berna with an obviously forced smile. "Yes, Berna?"
As soon as Berna reached us, she poked me in the arm. She was always concerned I wasn't eating enough - which was never the case; it was just my vampire metabolism - so the poke was actually an affectionate hello.
"Hi, Berna. The food looks good."
"You eat enough?" she asked in her heavy Eastern European accent.
"Always," I assured her.
"You eat more," she said, then poked Mallory. "You back to work."
"I was just saying hello to Merit."
Berna made a sarcastic noise and pinched my arm. Hard. "Still too thin," she pronounced, then walked away, yelling at another shifter who was heading toward the back of the house carrying plastic bags of yeast rolls.
"I should get back to work," Mallory said. "She has a very specific plan about how this gig should operate."
"I take it you two aren't getting along?"
"She's driving me up the freaking wall."
"Berna's intense," I said, rubbing the sore spot on my arm. "Motherly, in her way, but intense."
"That's precisely the problem. It's been a long time since I've been mothered, and twenty-eight is too late to start."
Mallory's parents had been killed in a car accident years ago, and she didn't have any living relatives.
"I can see how that would be awkward."
"It is. But she means well, so I'm going to shake it off later with a hot bath and stack of gossip magazines."
I wondered whether she'd also shake it off by talking to Catcher Bell, her boyfriend - or at least, he'd been her boyfriend before her unfortunate magical incidents. I wasn't entirely sure where they stood, but since she didn't bring it up, I didn't either. Not that the curiosity wasn't killing me.
"Do the bath and magazines help?" I asked.
"Less than they should. But when you aren't supposed to use your magic, you do what you can. It's like the world's worst diet."
"Mishka!"
"I'm coming!" Mallory yelled, then smiled apologetically. "It's good seeing you, Merit."
"You, too."
She looked up at me a little shyly. "Hey, maybe we could do something sometime? If you're up to it?"
It killed me a little that I hesitated before responding. But I still needed time. "Um, yeah. Okay." I nodded. "Give me a call."
She smiled a little brighter, then jogged back to the truck to arrange food at Berna's command.