“Probably not—but they sure as hell will make reading or controlling our minds a bit more difficult.”
He nodded. “I’ll get on it right away.”
“Get three.”
“Ris—” Ilianna said.
I cut her off with a sharp movement of my hand. “You’re wearing one, Ilianna. I don’t care if it goes against some witch rule. I want you protected.”
She didn’t look happy, but she didn’t argue, either. I squeezed Tao’s arm again and headed out. Hunter was still standing where I’d left her. I guess it had been too much to hope that she’d given up and left.
I waved her forward. She turned around and walked down the stairs, her black stilettos making little sound on the metal stairs. A woman who walked so lightly in heels that high was, in my estimation, extremely dangerous. But then, the mere fact that she was the head of the Directorate suggested that. You couldn’t maintain control for as long as she had by being anything but.
“McDonald’s is one street over,” I said as we hit the pavement. “On the corner of Swan and Botherambo streets.”
She glanced at me. “Botherambo?”
“Yeah. Odd name.” I shrugged. “They do good coffee.”
Or rather, it was far better than the stuff the old bar they’d ripped down and replaced used to produce. The older folk in the area were still boycotting McDonald’s to protest losing their local watering hole, but I couldn’t see the point. Especially since those of us who liked to party late could get something to eat at all hours.
Hunter didn’t say anything else and neither did I. Her scent rolled across the night—a faint mix of jasmine, bergamot, and sandalwood that was surprisingly pleasant, even for a nose as sensitive as a werewolf’s. Or a half-were’s, as was the case.
The chrome-and-glass building that housed McDonald’s soon came into sight. The big golden M dominated the rooftop and spread warmth through the darkness. Nearby, Swan Street was surprisingly busy, especially considering the early hour and the fact it was a weekday morning. The constant rumble of noise was regularly punctuated by the clatter of trains scooting across the old brick bridge, the bright light coming from the carriage interiors creating crazed patterns on the streets below.
Hunter held the side door open by her fingertips until I was through.
“What would you like?” I asked.
She somehow managed to look down her nose at me, even though she was several inches shorter. “I’d like not to be here, but I suppose a skinny latte will do.”
A skinny latte? Since when did a vampire have to worry about her weight? I ordered—and got—both a skinny and a full-cream latte, then walked across to the table she’d selected in the corner.
I placed her cup in front of her then sat down opposite. After peeling off the plastic lid, I dumped three packets of sugar in and gave it a quick stir.
Hunter took hers as is—although the brief flicker of distaste that crossed her face once she’d taken a sip more than backed up her statement that she liked neither this place nor this coffee.
Tough.
I took a drink, tried not to think about the thick, gooey cake I’d left sitting at home, and said, “So why am I the lucky recipient of a personal visit from the woman in charge of the Directorate?”
She interlaced her fingers and stared at me blandly. “I’m here about your father.”
“Isn’t everyone,” I muttered, and wished I’d brought some alcohol with me. I had a feeling I was going to need it.
She raised a sculpted black eyebrow. “There have been others inquiring about your father’s whereabouts?”
“Yeah, but you already know that. Uncle Rhoan took one of the thugs in for questioning yesterday afternoon.”
“Ah yes,” she said, as if she’d forgotten, though we both knew she hadn’t. “Unfortunately, that man couldn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know.”
“And what do you already know?” I didn’t think she’d answer, but it was worth a shot.
She simply gave me one of those cool vampire smiles they all seemed to do so well. “Have you heard from your father?”
“No. And I don’t expect to, either.” I raised the cup, took another drink, then reached for another sugar packet. “Why is the Directorate suddenly so interested in whatever my father is up to? You hunt down bad vamps, not Aedh up to no good.”
She took another sip of coffee, and it wasn’t a case of second time lucky. She took a handkerchief from her purse and gently patted her lips, as if to wipe away the flavor. I snorted softly. Okay, so it wasn’t top-shelf, but it wasn’t that bad, either.