Hunt opened his mouth to say something—what, exactly, he didn’t know—but Bryce went on. “After that, I went to the market. Since condiments aren’t food, apparently.”
Hunt brought his beer with him as he padded to the kitchen. “Want help?”
“No. This is an apology meal. Go watch your game.”
“You don’t need to apologize.”
“I acted like an asshole. Let me cook something for you to make up for it.”
“Based on how much chili powder you just dumped into that pan, I’m not sure I want to accept this particular apology.”
“Fuck, I forgot to add the cumin!” She whirled toward the skillet, turning down the heat and adding the spice, stirring it into what smelled like ground turkey. She sighed. “I’m a mess.”
He waited, letting her gather her words.
She began cutting an onion, her motions easy and smooth.
“Honestly, I was a bit of a mess before what happened to Danika, and …” She sliced the onion into neat rings. “It didn’t get any better.”
“Why were you a mess before she died?”
Bryce slid the onion into the skillet. “I’m a half-human with a near-useless college degree. All my friends were going somewhere, doing something with themselves.” Her mouth quirked to the side. “I’m a glorified secretary. With no long-term plan for anything.” She stirred the onion around. “The partying and stuff—it was the only time when the four of us were on equal footing. When it didn’t matter that Fury’s some kind of merc or Juniper’s so amazingly talented or Danika would one day be this all-powerful wolf.”
“They ever hold that against you?”
“No.” Her amber eyes scanned his face. “No, they would never have done that. But I couldn’t ever forget it.”
“Your cousin said you used to dance. That you stopped after Danika died. You never wanted to follow that road?”
She pointed to the sweep of her hips. “I was told my half-human body was too clunky. I was also told that my boobs were too big, and my ass could be used as an aerialport landing pad.”
“Your ass is perfect.” The words slipped out. He refrained from commenting on just how much he liked the other parts of her, too. How much he wanted to worship them. Starting with that ass of hers.
Color bloomed on her cheeks. “Well, thank you.” She stirred the contents of the skillet.
“But you don’t dance for fun anymore?”
“No.” Her eyes went cold at that. “I don’t.”
“And you never thought of doing anything else?”
“Of course I have. I’ve got ten job applications hidden on my work computer, but I can’t focus enough to finish them. It’s been so long since I saw the job postings that they’re probably filled by now anyway. It doesn’t even matter that I’d also have to find some way to convince Jesiba that I’ll keep paying off my debt to her.” She kept stirring. “A human life span seems like a long time to fill, but an immortal one?” She hooked her hair behind an ear. “I have no idea what to do.”
“I’m two hundred thirty-three years old, and I’m still figuring it out.”
“Yeah, but you—you did something. You fought for something. You are someone.”
He tapped the slave tattoo on his wrist. “And look where I wound up.”
She turned from the stove. “Hunt, I really am sorry for what I said about Shahar.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Bryce jerked her chin toward Hunt’s open bedroom door, the photo of her and Danika just barely visible on the dresser. “My mom took that the day we got out of the hospital in Rosque.”
He knew she was building to something, and was willing to play along. “Why were you in the hospital?”
“Danika’s senior thesis was on the history of the illegal animal trade. She uncovered a real smuggling ring, but no one in the Aux or the 33rd would help her, so she and I went to deal with it ourselves.” Bryce snorted. “The operation was run by five asp shifters, who caught us trying to free their stock. We called them asp-holes, and things went downhill from there.”
Of course they did. “How downhill?”
“A motorcycle chase and crash, my right arm broken in three places, Danika’s pelvis fractured. Danika got shot twice in the leg.”
“Gods.”
“You should have seen the asp-holes.”