Page 8 of White Wolf

“You wish, fucking nerd,” he said with a grin, sending the ball her way again.

“Maybe Thompkins was on to something,” Trina said. “And it reallywasa vampire.”

“Like I said:fucking nerd.”

“Jock,” she shot back.

Lanny stowed the stress ball in its place amid the organized chaos of his desk. “Come on. I’m starving. We can talk crackpot theories over bacon and eggs.”

Her stomach growled, in full agreement with that plan.

And it would be better to eat before the post-mortem.

It was officially morning now, and the precinct bustled with the usual activity of a shift change: fresh uniforms clocking in and the night shift shuffling for the door in their civvies. Detectives Robinson and Delgado had obviously picked up a late-night case too, both of them weary-eyed and slump-shouldered at their desks, flipping through crime scene photos.

“Want us to bring you something?” Lanny offered as they walked past.

Delgado made a face and shook his head. “On a diet.”

“Sucks, bro.” Lanny socked him lightly on the shoulder.

“I’m not,” Robinson said.

“I talked to your wife at the Memorial Day party,” Trina said. “Trust me, you are.”

He groaned.

Outside on the street, morning rush hour traffic shuttled past, cars and pedestrians alike. The air smelled of last night’s rain, exhaust, and the hot-oil tang of a host of fried breakfast foods available at the carts. They turned left at the foot of the precinct steps and fell in with the crowd of preoccupied commuters. Businesspeople in suits. Construction workers with sack lunches and hard hats tucked under their arms. Kids with too-heavy backpacks dragging at their shoulders. Trina spotted an artist in paint-spattered jeans gripping the handles of a bulky portfolio.

She loved this city so much that it hit her hard enough to hurt sometimes. That sweet ache of affection and nostalgia that should probably have been reserved for a lover.

They walked in companionable silence, Lanny smoking a cigarette most of the way, enjoying the bustle and gathering their thoughts. Lanny held the door open for her when they reached Tifton’s, and they found their favorite window booth open and waiting for them.

They slid in across from each other and Janet was on them immediately, slipping menus they wouldn’t need in front of their noses. “You two look like you could use some coffee,” she greeted with a smile, looking a little tired herself.

Lanny leaned back and let the booth take the weight of his considerable shoulders. “So much coffee. All the coffee.”

She laid out their silverware and said, “Be right back.”

Sunlight fell in through the big plate window, already warm, butter-colored and soothing. Trina closed her eyes, just a moment, an extended blink, and that was when the full weight of her sleepless nights hit her all at once. She was exhausted. Lying down in the booth right now and taking a nap seemed like a fantastic idea.

And then she sawhim. The man with the blue eyes. Snarling at her through memory.

Shit.

He seemed more concrete now, fully-developed when in the dream he’d been more of an impression. Her mind was filling in the gaps, adding detail based on whims she didn’t understand. His hair was pale, white-blond, falling to his shoulders, blowing in the wind. High cheekbones and a straight nose. Young. Just a boy, really, only starting to resemble a man.

Who are you?she thought. He didn’t look like anyone she’d ever met. He wasn’t even the sort of man she would have fantasized about. For the past year or so, most of her fantasies had been dominated by…

Across the table, Lanny cleared his throat.

…her partner. Which was so wildly inappropriate and stupid. Juststupid. Lanny liked the kind of no-strings women who winked at him across crowded bars and nightclubs. She was like his little sister. And hispartner. At work.Stupid.

“Hey,” Lanny said, softly. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like shit.”

Fantasies were just that after all: fantasies.

She snorted and opened her eyes. “You’re sweet.”

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