Page 114 of Dead Heat

“A special request for Nana Pratt.”

“What about poker?”

“I figured you get enough of that action at One Oak.”

“Is Scattergories a good idea?” Cam asked. “Assassins are very competitive.”

“So are werewolves.”

I turned to see West in the kitchen doorway.

“Not all werewolves,” Gun said. “I’ve seen Bert shoot pool.”

“That’s not about competition. Bert’s just usually too drunk to shoot straight.” He scented the air. “Nana Pratt was baking again, wasn’t she? I smell cookie dough.”

“There are more than cookies. She went on a baking spree when she found out I was entertaining multiple guests.”

West’s eyes lit up. “So what you’re telling me is I’ll leave here tonight a few pounds heavier.”

“That’s entirely up to you.”

Otto’s driver delivered him safely to the Castle, and Kane helped him carry in a couple bags of food prepared by Heidi.

I stared at the volume of food currently being unpacked in my kitchen. “Did you think I wouldn’t provide snacks?”

“I thought you might be preoccupied with other matters. I assumed I was doing you a favor.”

I caught a glimpse of tiny cakes and made a beeline for that bag. “I’ll take care of this one.” If this was going to be my last night in Fairhaven, I was stuffing myself to the gills with cream cheese frosting. Priorities.

Given my lack of furniture, there were two game stations set up in the parlor room, where we’d relocated the kitchen table and chairs, as well as Gun’s metal folding chairs.

“You should’ve told me to bring a table,” Otto said. “I have more than I know what to do with.”

“I’m not asking guests to bring their own furniture. It’s rude.”

“Yes, we prefer to sit on the floor because that’s so much better,” Camryn replied from atop a pile of cushions.

Josie nodded her approval. “Sarcasm suits you, Sable.”

“Do you mind if I turn on music?” West asked.

Claude beat him to it. The hand scrambled to my phone and tapped the passcode, which I didn’t even realize he knew, and selected my ‘upbeat playlist.’ Sneaky revenant. He’d be peering over my shoulder at far more than my enemies.

Barry White blasted from the speaker. Gun glanced up from his Scrabble letters. “Excellent choice.”

Kane grinned at me from across the room. “Yes, it certainly is.”

Heat spread to my chest and cheeks as I recalled listening to the same music when Kane and I were alone.

Josie surveyed the room. “Where’s the liquor?”

I motioned to the corner where Kane had set up the booze station. “Let me know if you don’t see anything you like.”

She examined the bottles. “This will do.” She twisted off the lid and poured a drink. “Want one?”

“Why not? Might as well have one last killer hangover if I’m going to die tomorrow.”

Josie rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You’re not dying tomorrow.”

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