Page 12 of The Gathering Storm

Chapter Four

Sigrid’s car handled like a dream.

Will downshifted through the curves defining the road leading into town. The purr of the Porsche Boxster’s engine reverberated through the steering wheel into his left hand, a reminder of the manmade machine’s power and grace.

Traits it shared with its owner.

He cut an admiring glance at his companion out of the corner of his eyes. Sigrid relaxed into the passenger’s seat with her hands folded primly in her lap. Her long, shapely legs were crossed at the knees under the elegant lines of her ivory skirt.

That skirt had seemed so demure in her office. It fell to precisely six inches above the center of her knees. Yet here, with her sitting in the car beside him, it rode up, exposing another four inches of her shapely thighs, a sinful temptation juxtaposed against her composed, icy beauty.

He shifted in his own seat, easing the first stirrings of lust in his groin, and focused on the road. She’d never let him drive again if he wrecked her car during his first turn behind the wheel. Hell, he’d probably never get another turn anyway. Daughters, especially immortal Daughters of Sigrid’s era, liked to retain control of their surroundings, including a simple chore like driving.

“Why pizza?” she asked.

Her voice cut through his musings, dampening his growing desire. He cleared his throat and said, “Everybody likes pizza.”

“What if I don’t?”

He glanced across the car’s interior. Her head was turned toward the passenger’s side window, hiding most of her expression except the slight upturn of her mouth. “We can go somewhere else.”

“Pizza’s fine.”

Then why had she asked? He shook his head and flicked on the turn signal, then eased into the turn lane for Highway 441 North behind two other vehicles. A Daughter’s games. Was she going to be like that during their lunch date?

The arrow pointing left turned green and the cars in front of them accelerated into the turn. Will followed, half annoyed at himself. After waiting two years just to have her acknowledge him, he should be happy she’d asked him out, not nitpicking her behavior and wishing for more.

They chitchatted during the remainder of the drive to Franklin, mostly covering small town gossip. Tellowee wasn’t that big, nor the People so numerous, that good news and bad could stay under wraps for long. Someone was always getting married or having a baby or fighting this scuffle or that. The familiarity of it all relaxed Will, easing the nervous energy plaguing him since that first kiss.

The parking lot next to Vito’s was crowded when they turned into it off the Highlands Road. Will edged the Porsche into a parking space, then helped Sigrid out of the car, a courtesy she accepted with a regal tilt of her Scandinavian head.

They snagged the last free table in the packed room, scanned the menu, and agreed on toppings. As soon as the waitress took the order and hustled through crowded tables toward the kitchen, Sigrid fixed her cold blue eyes on him and said, “You are Anya Bloodletter’s grandson.”

Will sat back in his chair, unsurprised. Small town, small population. Everybody was related to everybody else in one way or another, and as a member of the Council of Seven, his grandmother was known by most.

“Yes,” he said.

“She and I have waged many battles together.”

His mouth curved into a faint smile. “I’ve heard some of the stories.”

“Have you?” Sigrid’s luscious mouth curved into a matching smile. “How long have you managed The Omega?”

“Unofficially? Since I was sixteen.” Which was illegal in the state of Georgia or, at least, it was illegal to serve alcohol while under the legal age, but what the government didn’t know wouldn’t hurt anybody. “Mom and Dad started taking trips about then. Dad always wanted to travel, and with Casey growing up—”

“Casey?”

“My sister. Four years younger than me. You’ve probably seen her around the Omega.”

Sig nodded, though whether she was acknowledging knowing Casey or merely agreeing with him, Will couldn’t tell.

“Anyway.” He shifted in his seat and ran his palms down his thighs, settling them there in a loose grip. “By the time I graduated from college and Casey started college, they were gone more often than they were home. It seemed kind of natural for them to hand over the reins to me.”

“You enjoy bartending.”

It wasn’t a question. Will treated it as one anyway, unsure what else to say. “It can be fun watching the customers, giving people a safe and friendly place to go after work. What about you? How’d you get into genetics?”

Her faint smile turned rueful. “The calling found me. I had a knack for tending battlefield wounds, a skill most Daughters acquire over time if they value their hides.”

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