Page 4 of Shadows of the Soul

I grabbed my fork and shoved the fried chicken in my mouth to hide my smirk. Rebecca eyed the dish with new found horror. “Thank you, I’ve already eaten.”

“Nonsense, you can try a bite,” Maggie said, snatching the dish and heading for the microwave.

“Remove the foil,” Rebecca and I reminded her.

“Yes, yes, I’m not stupid,” Maggie muttered, following our instructions and shoving the dish in the microwave. The front door creaked open and the familiar sound of expensive Italian leather slapped against the wooden floors. I got comfy, this should be good.

Sebastian rounded the kitchen door and blinked at the microwave. Too late now, she’s seen you. Should have run when you smelled the mushrooms.

“Sebastian,” Maggie said, grabbing some plates from the cupboard. “Perfect timing to try my new mushroom lasagna.”

I’ll hand it to the Vampire Prince of North America. He had a Vegas-worthy poker face. He slid into the chair across from me, his eyes burning holes into my head in accusation as Maggie presented him with a steaming plate of gray and pale cream slop. He armed himself with a fork and eyeballed the plate. Bella, or the White Furry Menace as I’d nicknamed her, flounced into the room with a mouse between her teeth. She dropped it on Sebastian’s expensive loafers, turned, stuck her tail in the air and slunk out the room. Bella was a floozy. She offered males gifts. But me? Her shelter and caregiver? Nothing but haughty looks. Sebastian and Rebecca eyed her with jealousy. Being a cat excused you from sampling Maggie’s culinary delights.

My plate of fried chicken disappeared and some of the bland slop appeared in front of me.

“It’s better for you,” Maggie said with her hands on her hips. “Everyone should aim to have at least two meat free meals a week.”

Sebastian, myself, and Rebecca scooped a forkful and simultaneously deposited it in our mouths—one for all and all for one. I swallowed, and it came straight back into my mouth, my throat rebelling against the slimy taste. Like slugs slithering onto my tongue. Rebecca’s delicate features twisted, and Sebastian chewed thoughtfully. I redoubled my efforts and won the argument with my body. It was heavy on the garlic, sloppy in texture, and the weird little crunchy bits tasted suspiciously like burnt parmesan.

“Could I have my chicken? I don’t want it to go to waste,” I asked.

Maggie huffed and held my plate hostage. “You don’t like it?”

“I’m not a big lover of mushrooms.”

“Me either,” Sebastian said, jumping on my excuse and placing the fork on the plate.

Maggie turned to Rebecca. “And you?”

She tilted her head. “I like the concept, but it needs something.”

Maggie swapped my plate, and I tucked into the chicken, devouring it before anyone got any bright ideas about stealing my food again.

“It’s Monday,” I stated. “What are you doing here?”

Sebastian blinked. “Can I not come to see my best friend without intentions?”

I arched a brow. Sebastian was beautiful. Everything screamed perfection from his manicured nails to his trimmed five o’clock shadow.

“She’s having breakfast with Hudson tomorrow,” Rebecca stated.

“Traitor,” I mouthed.

She shrugged. “I’m living my nonexistent social life through you.”

Sebastian’s eyebrow twitched. “He invited you for breakfast?”

Maggie shot him a nervous look. “Yes,” I answered.

“Alone?” Sebastian checked.

“I assume so.”

“Is he cooking?”

“What is this? Twenty questions? Would you like me to film it for you?”

“Is. He. Cooking?”

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