Unfortunately, none of the surviving newbies had stayed in the same place for long. Sam hadn’t been attending her classes and had only stopped by her house to grab some clothes—Rod had checked it out after Devon and Charity’s visit but come up dry. The same was true of the others. They weren’t acting like normal freshly turned vamps. They seemed more organized. More elusive than even newbies under the guidance of middle-tier or lesser vamps.
Devon wondered if that elder didn’t have a hand in things. Usually, an elder would lose interest after the changing party, but none of the typical rules applied lately. Vlad’s obvious and extreme interest in Charity seemed to be leaking to all parts of this situation. Devon was no match for someone like Vlad. Roger barely was. Still, until Devon was sure of a connection, he had to keep working on this.
Not an ideal time for chores, but he had to keep his pack fed, and if they didn’t get some groceries, Charity would be in a tough spot. He was burning through her food supplies, and Devon knew she didn’t have two pennies to rub together to buy more.
“Are you coming in, or what?” Charity asked aggressively, her hand on the door handle. He knew for a fact that this deal skirted her line between pity and fair. It clearly galled her.
He couldn’t help a small grin. This was actually a fair trade in his book—the woman could somehow make oatmeal taste good—but her frustration tickled him. It was penance for all the silent challenges she’d made, accompanied by boosts in her mouth-watering scent. They drove him crazy.
“Can I wait out here?” he replied in distaste.
“You aren’t driving Miss Daisy. These choices concern you. I don’t want to get something you hate.”
“You won’t. I eat everything.”
“Let me rephrase. I don’t want to get something you’ll bitch about.”
Devon sighed and climbed out of the SUV. They had a couple of hours until full night, and he’d chosen an affluent area of town that vampires usually didn’t prowl for food. They’d be fine. He hated shopping almost as much as he hated cooking, but eating well was worth this hassle.
She stared down at her list as they entered the store. “Can you grab a cart?” she asked. She glanced back, probably to make sure he’d do it.
The light fell across her delicate features, highlighting her bizarre ethereal quality. She was lovely, extremely pleasing to behold. Everything about her worked in perfect harmony. She caught the eye and held it in such a way that he felt trapped and weightless. Jailed, but not sure if he was panicked or elated by that fact.
“Hello?” she said.
“Yeah, sure.”
He met up with her in the most useless area in the store. He told her as much.
“What are you, five? Vegetables are good for you.”
“Vitamins are easier to get down.”
She smirked and dropped a bag of apples into the cart. “You liked that portabella.”
“Meh.”
She chuckled softly. “Right, okay. Do you want to divide and conquer, or take it by aisles together?”
“I hate it here and I don’t know where anything is.”
A crease formed between her eyebrows. She nodded. “Uh-huh. Yes. I can see you missed my question.”
“Together,” he growled in mock irritation.
“Don’t start with the attitude. It’ll just piss me off.”
“Oh well, that’ll change my whole tune, surely.”
She shook her head, another smile lighting up her face.
He cleared his throat, his behavior the night before eating at him. “Sorry about last night. I know it seemed like I was pissed, but I wasn’t. Not really. Andy was right—it happens to a lot of people. I was just…you know…worried. It’s my duty to look after you, and I did a shit job. I shouldn’t have taken that out on you.”
“It’s fine. And thanks. For helping, I mean. You were justified in the way you acted and the things you said. I completely lost my head. But if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not talk about it anymore.”
Understandable, especially for a guy who thought talking things out was the equivalent of a medieval torture device. He’d remember to send Macy her way, though. Women more readily talked to other women. At least, that was what Andy had said.
It was bad when Andy became your expert in dealing with women.
“Also, thanks. You know, for the phone and computer.”
Devon gritted his teeth. He hadn’t wanted to advertise that he’d been behind those gifts. It was essential to the pack that each of them had a phone, and if he wanted, he was sure he could submit an expense report for reimbursement. But the computer…
In the simplest terms, he was paying it forward. He knew what it was to feel lost, destitute. When he’d answered the summons, he hadn’t had a dime, a place to stay, anything. If not for Roger and the pack, he would still have nothing. Sure, he’d worked his ass off to earn everything he had, but he couldn’t deny he’d been given a boost. So far, no one had done that for Charity. The least Devon could do was give her the right tools to help her achieve success. She was too headstrong and proud to ask for them, so he’d tried to ensure she wouldn’t have to.