At least my poor interpersonal skills haven’t affected the investigation. But I don’t like all of this… ignorance I have.
I couldn’t tell what made my teammates react like this, I didn’t know what twisted joke Considine was plotting to make him so amused all the time, I didn’t know why Gideon got so weird about an innocent question when he’d been almost idiotically confident with my questions about the library, and I still didn’t know what Gisila was up to and if Orrin had worked at her order.
Turns out, I hate not knowing things—something I never knew from my straightforward days as a slayer.
It’s a sign that I’m growing, I gloomily thought.
When I reached the car, I pulled my radio from my belt and waited for April—our driver for the evening—to unlock it.
As a person, I’m evolving. I hope. I better be or things are only going to get worse…
My churning thoughts continued. It wasn’t until I was doing my regular daytime training two days later that I started to feel better, more grounded.
I adjusted my padded shoulder straps—slightly changing where my weighted backpack put pressure on my frame—as I jogged down the sidewalk.
It was a crisp fall day. A slight overcast meant the sun was hidden so it was chillier than it had been that morning, and the wind was cold enough that I was wearing a headband to protect my ears, which also worked nicely to keep my short, red hair out of my face.
The cold temperatures meant it was ideal to do some weighted runs—something I’d hated doing all summer because it made me extra sweaty both from the additional effort it took to run with free weights in my backpack and because my black backpack sticking to my back made me sweat like a pig.
My lungs ached a little from the cold air, but I was mentally feeling so much better that I barely noticed as I jogged around the new decorations downtown. The city had secured bunches of dried corn stalks around the bases of lampposts, set out bright orange pumpkins, and an assortment of gourds—some green, some cream colored, some orange and green, some with warty bumps, and others with little lumps that made the gourd look ruffled.
I turned the corner, heading down King’s Court Drive. I ran down to a crosswalk and checked both ways before I jogged across the street and into a parking lot.
Connor was waiting there for me, sitting on a bench outside a café called Queen’s Court Café, and holding a paper latte cup.
“Ah, there you are, Midnight Snack.” Connor checked his cellphone. “You beat your previous lap by thirty-two seconds, well done.”
I slowed to a walk and shrugged my weighted backpack off my shoulders, setting it next to Connor on his bench. “Good, thanks for timing it.”
“Of course—woah. For all that is holy—you didn’t have to put weights in your backpack, you could have merely strapped a medium-sized child to you instead. Why do you train with so much weight?” Connor frowned as he pushed my backpack further down his bench.
“I’m training for a marathon. And hiking,” I said.
Connor smirked at me and for a second the curve of his lips was almost predatorial. It was gone so fast, replaced by a smile that had him flashing his pronounced fang teeth, I wondered if I actually saw it. “I’m sure.” He picked up my metal water bottle from where I’d left it on the ground by his feet and passed it up to me. “Are you almost done? You’ve been running for an hour.”
“I just have sprints left.” I caught my breath before I risked taking a swig of water. “Those go fast. You got a drink from Queen’s Court?”
“Mmhmm.” Connor held up his drink for inspection, which had a cup sleeve that was decorated with fall leaves and cute woodland creatures. “It’s one of their monthly themed drinks, The Queen’s Free-to-Visit Pumpkin Patch Trip. Not sure what that’s about, but it’s pumpkin flavored supposedly. Want a taste?”
I took the cup from him and gave it a suspicious sniff. My teeth ached, and I smelled the faintest hint of blood. “You spiked it with blood.”
“Naturally.” Connor picked up a half-consumed blood pack and waggled it at me. “Or it wouldn’t be worth drinking.”
I smiled at a trio of fae who ducked around us to head into the café—Queen’s Court was a favorite of local fae. “There’s more than half a blood pack in there.”
“Correct.” Connor studied the label on the blood pack. “I opened this pack first and sampled it. Whatever human donated this blood was low on iron and has a vitamin D deficiency, which makes it taste off. Naturally, I will not consume subpar blood so I sampled a new one. That human was more balanced, so I dumped it in.”