Page 36 of Forbidden Devotion
Sinclair froze. “No, I hadn’t heard. That’s awful. And scary. What if it escalates?”
“Exactly. What if it does?” Mitchel gestured toward the kitchen table and flipped on a percolator.
Sinclair settled into a chair, elbows on the table. “What are you going to do?”
“We’ll host a multispecies supernatural event promoting peace. I’ll be speaking for the alphas. Do you think the vampires will respond well to that?” He put a pan on the fryer, greased it, and went to the fridge for eggs.
“Yes, they should. At least, I hope they will. I’ll call my father as soon as I can. Is there anything else I can do to help?”
“You could consider presenting.” He cracked several eggs into the pan. The scent of fresh coffee from the percolator filled the air. “You have a unique perspective, having lived and worked with us here, and your father is an important figure. People would listen to you.”
“I mean, I’d be happy to try. We really can’t afford another war. I think it would be impossible in this day and age to hide something as terrible as a war between supernaturals from humanity. Technology is everywhere. If fighting breaks out in earnest, they’d all find out whether we wanted them to or not. We’d be exposed for sure.”
“Do you think humanity should know?” Mitchel asked cautiously. Politics was a prickly issue, full of pitfalls and landmines. They’d never so much as discussed casual topics like where to set the thermostat or how they took their coffee. Starting with the most contentious question to face supernatural kind probably wasn’t a smooth move. He felt sure Sinclair would side with the rest of his brethren—and against the wolves.
“I think it would be safer for all of us if we controlled how humanity learns of our existence, yes. But I don’t feel so strongly that it’s worth fighting a war over. And I can see the other side of the issue. Privacy has its own value. What do you think?”
Mitchel scooped eggs out of the pan and threw bacon into it. “I don’t want humans to know. It’s dangerous. Some of them will want to become werewolves. They’ll think one of us can bite them, like in the stories, and they’ll turn, but it doesn’t work that way.” He sighed. “I do see the counterpoint. It’s becoming more and more likely they’ll find out whether we want them to or not. Phones everywhere, recording everything. It might be easy to second-guess something seen in person but not a video recording. That’s proof.”
“You might be the most level-headed werewolf I’ve ever heard address the topic.”
“And you the most level-headed vampire.” Mitchel divided the bacon and eggs onto two plates and set one in front of Sinclair. “I don’t like politics.”
“Me either.”
“How do you take your coffee?” Mitchel poured two mugs full.
“Do you have sugar and cream?”
“Yes.”
“Both, please.”
Mitchel doctored their coffees, joined him at the table, and arched his brows. “So, why did you come over in the middle of the night and fall asleep on my lawn?”
Sinclair’s shoulders drooped. “I felt bad for leaving earlier. I wanted to explain myself.”
“I’m listening,” Mitchel said calmly and dug into his eggs.
“I don’t know. I got overwhelmed. Nervous. I only wanted to think, but then I didn’t know what to say. I choked. I didn’t mean to be rude. I came back to tell you, but you were gone. Falling asleep was an accident.”
“Look, I may not understand all the differences between you and a normal vampire. Or a dead vampire, or whatever you call them—”
“Turned,” Sinclair provided.
“—but I assume that falling asleep in the middle of the woods isn’t exactly safe for you.”
“It won’t happen again.” Sinclair hid his face behind his coffee mug as much as he could.
“No, it won’t. Because next time, you’ll come inside. Okay?” He nodded to the plate. “That’s going to get cold.”
“Okay.” Sinclair picked up his fork and began eating. “Thanks for cooking.”
“My pleasure.”
They ate and chatted about things less fraught than war and politics. When they were done and the food devoured, Mitchel cleared the table.
“I could do the dishes?”
