Page 48 of Junk Magic

“That’s really why you came back here? To get dinner?”

He nodded and patted the top of one of the freezers. “Bought these a month ago. With a bunch of young, growing mouths to feed, I have to take advantage of whatever sales I can find. Got a deal on pork the other week and loaded up.”

He started digging a mountain of what looked like ribs out of the nearest chest and piling them on top of the other freezer like Jenga sticks. I watched him build a mountain of meat and continued to feel off balance. Because I hadn’t thought that we were really here for food.

“Okay,” I said and walked over to help, but I guess my tone must have given me away, because he shot me a glance.

“You thought I was taking you off for an interrogation.”

I’d actually thought he was taking me away from other people in case I went nuts again. And after the last half hour or so, I wasn’t sure that that hadn’t been a plan. But interrogate sounded better.

“The thought had crossed my mind.”

He went back to rooting around in the freezer. “Nope.”

“Nope?”

“Nope. But this will take a while—as long as you need for it to. And you know where everything is. You want a nap, a snack,” he gestured around, a bag of frozen peas in hand. “Mi casa es tu casa.”

I just stood there some more, frowning. “I don’t want a nap.”

“Okay.” The peas were tossed aside and more pork hit the other freezer top.

“You’re seriously not going to ask me anything?” I said.

He shot me a glance. “I know you, Lia.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning no way are you going to want to talk about this so soon. I might get something out of you eventually, when you’ve processed it, or I might not. But today?” He paused to examine something in a frost covered wrapper. “Not a chance.”

I frowned harder. “You don’t know that.”

“Oh. So, you do want to talk?” He tossed the mystery item back into the cold and leaned against the freezer, waiting politely.

My frown tipped into a scowl, because no, I didn’t. But I hated that he could read me so easily. “We do need to discuss one thing,” I said, because it was true. And I might as well get it over with while I was already uncomfortable as hell, rather than ruin another day.

“Okay.” He crossed his arms.

On a human, that would have been a closed off, defensive stance, but Were body language was different. In the Were world, even a fraction of a second could make the difference in a fight, like the time it took to uncross arms or legs before Changing. Tangling yourself up was therefore the Were equivalent of a house cat slowly blinking. It said I trust you; I know you; I’m willing to be vulnerable around you.

It made me feel even worse than I already did, but this needed to be said.

“You called Jace canagan.”

“So?” The big shoulders shrugged. “It’s a term of endearment meaning ‘little wolf’. You know that.”

“It’s a term of endearment in the clans. Jace is vargulf—”

“Says the woman who just went to the mat for him.”

The posture hadn’t changed, but the face was suddenly a lot more closed off.

I persisted anyway, because he needed to hear this. “Just because I don’t want to see him ripped to pieces doesn’t mean I don’t know where he ranks—or doesn’t rank—in clan order—”

“If you merely wanted to protect him, you could have done it with a spell,” Cyrus pointed out, the dark eyes steady on mine. “You didn’t.”

“My magic was acting up. I wasn’t thinking—”

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