Page 30 of The Vampire in the Potting Shed

“Cooking is my therapy.” I waved away her offer. “It’s how I destress.”

The whole truth was more humbling. Food was life to shifters. I taught myself the basics so I could whip up cookies, cakes, and pies that obligated the pack to spend time with me in the kitchen if they wanted a treat. But I had grown to love it. Especially baking for my four-legged customers.

“That’s probably for the best.” She retreated a safe distance. “I can burn water.”

“Impressive.” I aimed for the fridge, digging through the contents. “How about eggs Benedict?” A check of my supplies had me shifting gears to use what I had that was freshest. “Make that Tex-Mex. I can grill some potato slabs and whip up some avocado-lime hollandaise.”

“I’m willing to cross the cuisine border with you.”

While I heated the built-in griddle on my gas cooktop, I checked my phone. “Still no service.”

“At least he warned us.” She plunked down at the table. “Our inboxes aren’t going to be fun places to visit when we have internet access again.”

“I’m a terrible daughter for enjoying the calm before the storm, but it’s nice to have quiet to think.”

As soon as phones came online again, I was going to get an earful. Which suited me just fine. I had a few choice words for Dad too. All these years, he never said a word about a betrothal. He let me date, let me think my life partner was one choice I could make for myself when he had already handpicked a guy for me. Before I was born. The odds of a latent having a mate were zero. I had no wolf. I could fall in love with a packmate, but the wilder half of him would never be mine.

“You don’t get a say in the blackout, so enjoy it while you can.”

“What will your family think? Will they be worried about you?” I began slicing a red onion in neat slivers. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask sooner. I’m rusty on my reciprocation, since it’s mostly clients who talk to me.”

And those interactions, even years later, after I earned their loyalty, were surface level.

“You’re fine.” She plucked at her bottom lip. “I lost my parents about two years ago. I’m an only child, so without them, I didn’t have anything worth staying for. That’s when I applied with your dad for this job.”

“No aunts or uncles?”

“Dad was a healer, a good one, but his pack already had one. To establish himself, he and my mom left. I wasn’t born yet, so I never met their families. They didn’t visit after the big cross-country move, and we didn’t have the money to go back, so we all drifted apart.” She rubbed her thumb across the old tabletop. “You know how it goes.”

“Yeah. I do. I don’t remember my mom. Just the stories Dad told me. Which didn’t match up to what the parents at my school said when they thought I couldn’t hear. Things their kids repeated later to my face like it was a contest to see who could make me cry.” I got to whisking my eggs. “She wrote to me when I was younger. Actual letters. On paper. Nice paper. Like they were meant to be keepsakes. Like she knew she was never coming back and wanted me to have something to remember her by. And there I go again dominating the conversation.”

Halfway done with my potatoes, I wiped my damp fingers on a towel when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it.” Sloane shot to her feet. “You’ve got your hands full already.”

“Are you worried the kids are coming to cash in their tickets?”

“If that happens, I’ll be forced to trip and accidentally fall against the door, slamming it in their faces.”

“Brutal.” I reclaimed my tongs, clicked them. “I like it.”

While she dealt with the problem outside, I finished up with breakfast, curious what was taking so long. I had started plating us up when she returned with Rían in tow, who whipped a faded ballcap off his head as he entered the house.

“Morning, Ana.” He dusted the hat across his palm. “I came to apologize for Marigold.”

“The front porch entrepreneur?”

“That’s her.” He raked his fingers through his short hair. “Marigold—Goldie for short—is my little sister.”

“That explains themeet my sisteron her tickets.” Sloane grinned as a flush tingled in my cheeks. “She must be excited for Ana to join the family.”

“More like excited for the opportunity to cash in on Anapotentiallyjoining the family.” His nostrils flared as he zeroed in on the plate in my hands. “She’s atadobsessed with building an empire, but it’s a girl empire, so I’m not allowed to know the details. Just that it requires a lot of startup capital.”

After settling Sloane with her breakfast, I returned to the stove and lifted the other plate. “Hungry?”

“Always.” He did the math, and his excitement dimmed. “I won’t take food out of your mouth, though.”

“I wouldn’t give you food out of my mouth. That would be gross. Probably soggy too.” I thrust the steaming food toward him. “Take it. I cooked plenty. I can fix another plate.”

---