Where Winter Finds You (Black Dagger Brotherhood #18)- J.R Ward Page 0,43

zone in here.”

“I don’t want them to get paint on their paws and lick it off. What if it made them sick?”

“You are a very thoughtful little girl, Bits.”

“I’m going to go find Mom.” She waved. “Bye, Uncle Trez. I’m glad you liked the card.”

“I love it!” he called out as she skipped across the mosaic floor, her long brunette hair flagging out behind her slip of a body. “Thank you again!”

When they were alone, Rhage cleared his throat. “Listen, if that’s, you know, too hard for you to hold on to, you can throw it—”

“No.” Trez recoiled. “I’m keeping this. I love this. She is a talented artist, and this is my favorite card. Ever.”

As Hollywood looked doubtful and tried to hide it behind taking a hunk out of that turkey leg, Trez switched subjects.

“Hey, did you happen to hit Sal’s last night?” he asked.

“Yup.” Hollywood took a refresh on the milkshake, hitting his straw again. After he swallowed, he smiled. “Your brother is a helluva good cook, you know that. And actually…”

When the Brother didn’t finish, Trez had a feeling where the male had gone in his head.

“What.” Even though he knew. “You can tell me. It’s okay.”

* * *

On time, Therese thought as she re-formed in the shadows thrown by the restaurant’s far corner. Let’s hear it for being on time.

Jumping over a low-level snowbank, she hit the shoveled part of the walkway and made her way to the staff entrance. Opening the door, she—

Stopped dead.

iAm’s office was at the end of the shallow concrete hall, and she couldn’t see through the open doorway for all the people crammed shoulder to shoulder in front of it. They were all facing away from her, and their voices were overlapping. It was everyone who worked at the restaurant, from the servers and the bartenders, to the sous chef and the manager. What the heck was going on?

Walking over, she tapped the pastry chef on the shoulder. “What’s happening—”

“You’re alive!” he called out.

The next thing she knew, he was giving her a hard hug that smelled like melted sugar and strawberries.

The staff pivoted around, and then they were all talking again, their voices loud and shouty, shock and relief warring on their faces as they looked her over as if they were searching for leaks of the arterial variety.

The next thing she knew, she was being drawn through them all, urged into iAm’s utilitarian office. Emile’s red-rimmed eyes were wide as he stood next to their boss. He looked awful, like he hadn’t slept for a week.

“You’re alive,” he said. Just like the pastry chef.

Emile’s embrace did not smell like shortcake with mixed berries. He was wearing a cologne of some kind, but it wasn’t something he had put on fresh that night. It was in his clothes.

“I’ve been calling you all day,” he explained. “Something happened at that club shAdoWs last night and we had to leave without you—”

Wincing, he stopped talking and brought his hand up to his temple as if he had a sudden headache. Which was characteristic when a human had had their memories stripped and replaced with some other version of events than what had actually happened. For the most part, the patches held, but when the person tried to probe past the story their minds had been supplied, they typically felt pain in their gray matter.

“Liza and I were worried,” he mumbled. “And when I couldn’t reach you, I panicked.”

Wow, so Trez and Xhex really did take care of everything. Then again, she hadn’t seen anything on the news, either. “I’m fine. But thanks for worrying about me.”

iAm, who was seated behind his messy desk, cleared his throat. “Okay, guys. How about everyone but Therese head back to prep.”

“I’m glad you’re all right,” Emile said.

“Thanks—and hey, listen, I lost my phone last night. That’s why I didn’t answer when you called. I wasn’t avoiding you or anything, and the last thing I want is to create a problem.”

“As long as you’re okay.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “That’s all I care about.”

After everybody left, Therese exhaled in frustration and turned back to her boss. “Am I in trouble or something?”

“No.” He shook his head. “But what happened last night?”

She shrugged. “It was a shooting between humans. Nothing to do with us.”

“At my brother’s club?”

“Yes. Emile and I went there to—” She stopped herself. “That’s not important. Anyway, I gather everything was… taken care of… on the human side of things. Just as