Page 15 of Death and Donuts

When it came to food and sex, Vena had a one-track mind. Unfortunately, the latter got her in trouble more often than not.

“Go,” I said. “Once these are done, we can leave.”

“Save me another bismark, but give it a little sugar coating this time, mama.”

“I will chuck it at you again if you don’t go away.”

She laughed. “You know I’m great at catching. I’m kind of great at everything. Just ask Anchor.”

I lobbed another bismark at her, which she caught and sank her teeth into. With a grin, she skittered off to her room.

Anchor was going to be so screwed when he took her off my hands. The thought made me a little sad. Vena and I had been living together for three years now. Before that, we’d slept over at each other’s homes non-stop. Vena had nevernotbeen at my side. What would I do when that day came?

It was later than I had expected by the time I finished the bismarks and bonbons.

“It’s nearly lunchtime,” Vena said as I placed the plastic containers in the backseat. “I bet we can get Cross to spring for a meal.”

“You always want him to buy you food.”

“It’s not like he needs the food money. And those bismarks were a letdown.”

“My bismarks are not a letdown. They’re big and have an amazing texture.”

“That’s what she said,” she said with a snicker. “I just meant they were plain, and now I need something to appease my palate. Anchor already said no when I texted him an offer.”

“Get in the car,” I told her. “You are so over the top right now. Anchor needs to run away to the L.A. pack so they can safely lock him up again.”

“Ew. Don’t mention that pack to me.”

“Then give your hormones a rest. Remember, wolves mate for life. Life, Vena. You’ve got about sixty more years to live.”

“I think eighty.”

“Fine. Eighty years. That’s a long life to be with one man. And if you decide you don’t want Anchor, you might be able to skip away, but he can’t.”

She frowned at me. “All I said was I was hungry.”

“And are you still?” I asked smugly. “Why don’t you focus on that book list you need to give Cross to get your spending money instead of Anchor’s pocket prize?”

She was quiet on the way to Cross’ place as she played on her phone.

I felt a smidge of guilt for reminding her about a werewolf’s life commitment. I knew she had deep feelings for Anchor and wouldn’t ever want to hurt him, but a relationship with him was just like starting a business with Cross—those kinds of things needed to be thought through carefully.

She looked up from her phone as I parked, scanning the building’s façade for changes. However, the outside of Cross’ building looked the same as it had, except for the dumpsters. Those were gone.

Cross met us at the door and took the boxes from my hands. He inhaled, and his eyes flashed to black for a second before he smiled at me.

“I’ve been looking forward to this sample,” he said.

“Good. Let me know if I put enough blood in them.”

His gaze swept over me as he shifted the boxes to one arm and settled on my bandaged finger. “I love that you made me something, but I never want you to hurt yourself.” He took my hand and kissed the bandage. “Come in and let me put the boxes down so I can heal your wound.”

Wound?It was a pinprick, but I didn’t argue. I liked his concern.

As we walked inside the gutted building, Vena frowned. “I thought you’d be further along.”

“You just saw it yesterday,” I said to her. “How much did you think he’d get done?”

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