“Okay,” I said when she stomped out of the room; I pulled on my gloves. “Let’s get to work.”
FIVE
We worked for two hours, scooping baked beans into containers, preparing pans of corn bread for transport to the conference hotel, and moving the entire feast into the Pack’s delivery van. Aluminum pans weren’t stable in the best of times, and full of barbecue and beans, they were even harder to deal with. And burning hot.
There was a rack in the back of the van with slots the pans should slide into to keep, one presumed, sauce from splattering the walls of the van during transport. But even with vampiric strength, maneuvering hot, full, and bendable trays wasn’t the easiest endeavor.
“I’m going to end up wearing it,” I muttered, trying again to match the edges of pan to rack.
“Let me help you with that,” said a voice behind me.
I glanced back, found a man with light brown skin and straight, dark hair that fell to his shoulders. His eyes were brown below dark, straight brows, and above sculpted cheekbones. His grin was wide.
“Thanks,” I said, as he gripped the other end of the tray.
“I know you can take the weight,” he said, as we lifted and slid the tray home. “But it’s awkward.”
“It is.”
He locked the tray in place, shifting so the fall of dark hair slid across his face, then pushing it away again.
“I’m Daniel Liu.” He offered a hand.
“Elisa Sullivan,” I said, and we shook. His hand was strong, his nails carefully manicured, and elegant as his dark gray trousers and black shirt.
“You manage a sword very well,” he said.
They’d absolutely shown the video in the bar. “Thank you. I was well trained.”
“So I saw.” He slid his hands into his pockets. “Do you think the AAM will continue to trouble you?”
This man was obviously Pack—the magic was undeniable—but I didn’t know which members, other than Alexei and his relatives, Connor considered trustworthy, or how much information he wanted them to have.
I settled on, “Probably. They didn’t come all this way to be turned down.”
Connor appeared around the vehicle’s corner. “Daniel. You’re just the man I wanted to see.”
Daniel’s smile widened. “Prince. I was just making Elisa’s acquaintance.”
“Good,” Connor said, closing the van door. “Daniel just joined us from Memphis. And you don’t have to call me ‘prince.’”
“Prince,” Daniel agreed pleasantly. Connor just rolled his eyes.
“Welcome to Chicago,” I said. “What brings you north?”
Daniel slid a look at Connor. “He does. Memphis has an interest in the Pack’s future, its leadership. And we support the Keene family. Since much of the Pack is still in Alaska, I was nominated to ride up and . . . help.”
“He means he lost a bet,” Connor translated, leaning back against the van. “So instead of running the Tongass or enjoying some Delta blues, he gets to work security and endure lake effect snow.”
Daniel’s brows lifted. “What’s lake effect snow?”
“Newbies are so adorable,” I said and elbowed Connor. “Make sure he buys a good coat.”
A shifter came out of the building, clipboard in hand. “Get off my van, loafers.” This was Eli, one of Connor’s uncles.
Connor pushed off the van, nodded at him. “Uncle.”
“Whelp.” He looked at me, nodded. “Vampire.”
“Wolf,” I said, and he smirked.
“Everything loaded?”
“And ready,” Connor said. “Strange thing—I didn’t see you packing beans.”
“I’m management,” he said and opened the driver’s side door.
“I believe that’s my cue to find something else to do,” Daniel said and glanced at me. “Good to meet you.”
“And you. Thanks again for the help.”
“You’re welcome. Prince,” Daniel said again and walked back to the building.
“He seems cool,” I said, as we moved away from the van, lest Eli run us down to get the food on the road.
“Dan is good Pack,” Connor said. He leaned toward me, so I caught the scene of his cologne, woodsy and warm. “And he’s an incorrigible flirt.”
“Is that a statement or a warning?”
“Yes.”
I rolled my eyes. “He’s fine. But, seriously, make sure he buys a good coat.”
* * *
* * *
It would take a month, I guessed, before I’d be able to wash the smoke and paprika and molasses out of the jumpsuit.
“Come with me,” Connor said when the van was gone.
“Only if you have a frosty margarita and a hot bath,” I said, rolling my shoulder.
“How is it?” he asked.
“Healing, but slowly. I’m not sure if this extra workout will keep it from stiffening up, or make it worse.”
“Then I’ll make it up to you. I don’t have baths or margaritas. But how about barbecue and a hot shifter?”
“I could probably manage that.”
“Good.” He took my hand, led me through the loading bay and into a quiet hallway lit by the glow of the tea light candles used to warm chafing dishes. Two disposable plates of food flanked the candles, their compartments filled with meats and sides.
I looked up at him, eyes sparkling. “We’re getting our romantic dinner after all.”
“I wasn’t sure how long two dogs would last you, and I didn’t want you to start biting my relatives.”
“Wrong species,” I said. “I don’t bite shifters.”
“Oh, we’ll see about that,” he said with a grin. “Not as nice as I had planned for tonight, and none of the baguettes you were going to make from scratch.” He paused, looked at me. “I forgot to ask—did you make them?”
“Let us never speak of it again. But do let us speak of dinner, because I’m starving.”
* * *
* * *
The barbecue was, of course, delicious. We ate like hungry kids who’d snuck forbidden candy—stuffing in the food as quickly as possible, lest someone come to take it away, and grinning the entire time.