was sensible like that and brought a backpack full of snacks and other useful things when shopping with a female.
Smart dude, Isaac.
Finished shopping at long last, Blanc announced that she was peckish. Also, she really wanted to visit her darling son Kevin’s new home town. Wasn’t Sausalito supposed to be picturesque? Wasn’t it just over there, near the water? Why not go honor it with a visit? Give the small town the thrill of a celebrity sighting.
To which Colin muttered under his breath that Sausalito was not the kind of place to recognize a country music star.
Blanc heard him, of course, and turned to Kevin for an explanation. “Oh? And why is that?”
“Mostly tourists, retirees, and rich old human hippies, Mother. Not your draw.” Kevin explained.
“Oh, well yes, that doesn’t sound like me at all. Imagine, anonymity, how novel. Shall we?” It was not a question.
They piled back into the stretch limo. Blanc chattered on about how excited she was to learn about Kevin’s “little life in the Bay Area” and wasn’t it all “so quaint and adorable?”
Judd up-tilted his chin at Kevin. With a sigh, his fellow enforcer kept Blanc’s focus.
Judd relaxed back, Colin to one side of him, Isaac on the other. He lowered his voice so Risa and the other humans couldn’t hear. If Blanc dragged herself away from her own voice long enough she might overhear them, but that seemed unlikely. Besides, he assumed she wasn’t involved.
Kevin leaned forwards and angled himself. His big body shielding them from Blanc’s view. He took all of her attention.
Judd lowered his voice to subhuman levels. “Let’s get them to the Bean. See what happens with a confrontation.”
“We’re being followed, aren’t we?”
Judd nodded. “Black SUV. Not the same car I peed on. I’m thinking it’s blubber bozos. I’ll text our two friends. Let them know our ETA and location. Isaac, you text Max we’re incoming? Gingersnap, you text Alec?”
Colin nodded and pulled out his phone.
They all tapped quietly on screens for a while. Blanc and Kevin’s nonsense talk echoed around them.
16
Wolves in Wet Places
The direct result of their texting was that the café, when they arrived, was packed with pack. Colin entered the place tense as all get out and then instantly relaxed.
At a table at the front, furthest from the door, sat Alec and Marvin. It was a mark of the Alpha’s confidence that he’d brought his mate along. Or it was just that Marvin was around, on Sunday, bored and nosy, and insisted on coming. He probably just wanted to check out the selkies, see if they really did wear suits without shirts. Colin was so pleased to see his Alpha that he had to stamp down on a desire to run over and hug Alec. Which was… what? He stopped to think about it. Nice. It was nice.
The SBI weren’t there yet. It’s possible they’d ignored Judd’s text, the idiots.
Knitter Floyd was the only human still inside, because Floyd was part of the furniture. Plus, if there was about to be a rumble, Floyd wanted to see it. Frankly, Floyd would probably survive the vampire apocalypse by simply sitting, right the fuck there, knitting forever.
“Oh, this place is so cute!” cried Lexi. “Look at all its little windows. Is this how ordinary people behave on a Sunday? Are those people drinking actual coffee drinks? How precious.”
Even without humans, Bean There, Froth That made to all appearances like a humming local café. Werewolves weren’t exactly great actors, but Lexi Blanc wasn’t exactly observant, either. Her three human followers, though, they got nervous. That prey animal thing engaged – a small section of their hind-brain kicked in, warning them of danger. They didn’t do anything, though, too cowed by Lexi’s will. Or too accustomed to ignoring their instincts because they’d been working for an Alpha werewolf for so long.
Trick was behind the counter, his usual bouncing chipper self. He was chattering at Max, who was ordering another mostly-syrup-with-a-caffeine-chaser and insisting on the largest mug with the difference made up by whipped cream. Trick was calling him a sugar junkie and criticizing his life choices.
Max said something about sticky bun lattes conferring upon the drinker the stamina and energy of a god. And so forth. Or was that, so froth?
Tank was tucked away in one corner, a quiet looming figure. Bryan and Lovejoy weren’t around, but the odds in that café still tilted in the pack’s favor. Even though Lexi had her entire entourage. After all, Lexi Blanc’s support network