"Oh, I'm so excited!"

Irene bounced atop her stool while Armand sipped his morning coffee and I shoved another one of Hen's buttermilk waffles into my mouth.

"Maybe I can convince him to move into the hotel. No offense to Moonshade, of course."

"None taken," I grumbled, my words lost in the partially chewed mound of sweet, syrupy dough in my mouth.

"It's just so lonely right now. I can't believe there's so many open spots in the Body program. I'm glad Victor is here, but shouldn't there be more?"

"Dad's been focusing all our powers towards reinforcing the barrier," said Hen with uncharacteristic exhaustion in her voice. "Honestly, I see it as a blessing. Shows he's able to recognize that managing both the border and the call for Bodies is too much for us."

I looked up from the sausage I skewered, and watched Hen pour another cup of coffee. However, it didn't go to any of the diner's morning patrons. Instead, she added some sugar and then downed it herself.

Both Irene and I, glanced over at Armand, whose lips twisted with displeasure and whose eyes glinted with a sort of possessiveness.

"You shouldn't be burning yourself out with running the diner and carrying the bulk of the magical workload with the barrier." The thirty-something mage kept his gaze firmly on the vibrant, bottle-redhead, speaking as if no one else was in the room. "You love this diner and you don't love the border. Tell him to fuck off and do the work on his own."

"We're not going to have this conversation here," she said with a sigh, though I noted the slight quirk of a smile at the corners of her lips.

Irene and I turned our eyes to each other, a whisper of conspiracies silently passing between us.

Armand openly hating Hen's father, Graham, wasn't new. Nor was our theory that he had feelings for Hen. However, this glimpse of vulnerability and Hen's assertion that their discussion would continue in a more private setting was new.

Was Hen receptive to his affection?

Armand is a very talented mage with dogged determination and a dorky vibe. He's also around Hen's age and, objectively speaking, he's a good looking guy. He's not a muscular athlete or the mysterious, brooding type. However, he has a contagious smile, lean frame, and bright eyes. No one could blame Hen for falling for his charms.

It was her history that gave us pause.

She'd fallen in love before, and based on what Irene said, Hen had fallen hard. Hard enough that she was willing to toss her father and this town aside for love. Graham didn't like that, of course, so he sold her lover—who was a Body—to a poor vampire family. He'd pay the upkeep so Hen's beloved could be their feeder. All Graham asked for in return was for the vampires to use their blood link. After biting him, they'd be able wipe her lover's memories and keep him far away from Hen.

She was obviously devastated and we wondered if she'd ever really recover until after Graham was dead and gone.

Armand, however, has a way of slipping in through whatever cracks he can find and her heart was no different.

"All right," he relented with a shrug. "Why don't we talk about why Delilah is upset instead?"

"I'm not upset," I said with a growl as I tore through the plump breakfast sausage, its juices dribbling down my chin.

"No, just unnecessarily barbaric," he replied with a pleased smirk. "How many plates of food have you had now?"

"Are you judging my weight?!" I stabbed my fork at him, which still had half a sausage dangling off of it. Irene leaned back so I didn't smear her with grease as I reached across her. "I'm a wolf. I need a lot of calories!"

Armand looked ready to burst with laughter while Hen sighed and busied herself with another guest at the far end of the counter.

"Of course not. If anything, I think you should be eating more so you put at least some fat on all that muscle you've been gaining. However, you have long fought the idea that your caloric intake needed to practically quadruple—if not more—after becoming a full shifter. So, seeing you happily fill your gut with carbs and proteins, it just seems you have something else on your mind."

"I hate to agree with him, but he's right," said Irene with a roll of her eyes, which earned her a giddy smirk from Armand. "Hen usually has to beg you to take a third plate, and you only agree to have fruit and yogurt when you do. I think that's your fourth helping of a stack of waffles, two sausage links, and two strips of bacon."

I returned my fork to my mouth and tore the remainder of the sausage off so I could spend some time thinking while I chewed.

Armand may have hated Graham, and Irene did resent him for his unwillingness to pursue her as a mage, but they didn't know he was a murderer. Unfortunately, my fear for Victor's safety was mainly rooted in that unpleasant knowledge.

That being said, I really did need to vent.

"I should be with Victor right now," I grumbled, stabbing my fork into the other sausage and leaving it there while I crossed my arms with a pout. "I don't trust leaving my brother with Graham alone." I shook my head and slouched over the counter. "It's no secret he doesn't like me and I don't want him to take that out on my brother. We've only just barely got Victor to accept he's stuck here for the time being. I don't need Graham undoing that work."

"Look, my dad is a lot of things, but he's not a monster."

Armand coughed, nearly spilling his coffee over the table. Hen glared at him, but continued.

"He's not going to hurt Victor."

"You sure about that?" asked Armand, who clearly had a death wish that morning. "The last time we had human visitors in these parts, they were burned at the stake."

Irene sucked in a breath and made herself small, while Hen's glare turned into something violent. However, Armand didn't back down. Instead, he also crossed his arms over his chest in defiance. He then cocked his head in a way that stretched out his neck at an almost unnatural angle. I caught Hen's eyes trailing down his throat, then lingering near his collar. Afterwards, she sighed and shook her head before turning back to me.

"I...I don't have the clearest view of my father," she said in a low, strained voice. "However, I can say this. They are meeting in the park and nothing's going to happen in a public space like that."

I nodded and returned to my plate, which still had a sausage and two thick strips of bacon on it. As hungry as I was, the air felt too heavy to raise my arm up to eat.

"You know," said Irene with some hesitation, "maybe he's loosening up a bit. I mean, I've been going on walks with Gen every morning recently to gather herbs and mushrooms, sometimes feathers and stuff like that. He has to know we're gathering things for the potions and serums she makes, yet he hasn't stopped either of us."

I smiled at Irene's segue away from Graham, especially when it put her own private life into the conversation. Until now, I didn't dare to ask about her growing relationship with Genevieve, a shy mage who was also an amateur apothecary.

"Is that so?" I asked. "Has she been teaching you what each one does?"

"Yes," said Irene with a clap of her hands. "In fact, during today's walk, I was able to identify everything without her help. I'm hoping that means she might promote me to the next level and let me watch her make a potion."

"I suspect Graham hasn't noticed you two getting up to magical mischief," said Armand with his devilish smile back in place. "You've been spending a lot of time together. I'm sure everyone will think you're sneaking away into her house to hookup instead of brewing potions."

"Well, I'd also like to be doing that so they wouldn't be completely wrong."

"Ugh," he groaned, his eyes turning to the ceiling. "It's no fun to tease you about liking Gen, if you already know you do."

"You'll have to find someone else to torture," she answered with an impish grin as she poked him in the arm. "Or maybe..." She hesitated and looked over at me as if asking permission. It was hard to give it when I didn't know what her devious mind was up to. However, she apparently got what she needed because she turned back around and pounced.

"Maybe," she continued, "it should be the other way around."

"Oh?" he asked with a raise of his brow.

"Yes," she snickered, leaning in close so she could whisper her words—a rather pointless endeavor given half the people in the room likely had enhanced hearing.

"Why don't you tell me and Del about where you've been spending your nights. You'd been rooming at the hotel, but I haven't seen you in the evenings or the mornings in like the past month."

Now it was my turn to raise my brow with interest. I looked over at Armand's frozen features, while my heightened awareness spotted movement from the corner of my eye, catching Hen nearly spilling coffee onto a customer's lap.

To his credit, the generally chatty mage kept his mouth shut. Instead, he took a deep breath and spun on his stool so he faced Irene directly.

"No."

Irene burst out laughing, while Armand sipped his coffee. I glanced over at Hen to see her noticeable sigh of relief. Had the mischievous assassin fallen for anyone other than the sweet, but powerful, Hen, I would have encouraged Irene's meddling. However, the heir to the Archmage throne had enough on her plate, including things she wasn't even aware of. For example, the mage hunter hiding just outside the town's limits. Specifically because this hunter had vowed to exterminate the last of Elizabeth Winchester's line, which consisted of Graham and Hen.

"Good morning, everyone!"

The doors whipped open behind us and if I didn't have the strength and resolve of a wolf, I probably would have bounced a good foot off my seat in surprise. Unfortunately, not everyone was so lucky and my sensitive ears caught several whispered curses due to spilled orange juice and syrup all over their table.

The real surprise, though, was when I realized who this jovial greeting came from.

It was none other than my dear brother and the villainous Archmage.

Unfortunately, Graham was the one brimming with excitement. As for Victor, my heightened sense of smell, picked up that not only wasn't he nearly as cheery as the mage, but he was also terrified.

"I have an announcement to make."

The whole diner spun around to face Graham and see why he was intruding on brunch. I'm not sure a single person looked at him with a smile on their face, however, we were all certainly intrigued.

"Victor, here," he said, wrapping his arm around my brother's hunched shoulders, "is a mage!"

In that moment, I realized there was no limit to Graham's cruelty.

***

The notoriously picky Graham has determined Victor is a mage. Do you trust his assessment? What will now become of Victor?

I know, I suck at consistency, but that's mainly because I'm contractually obligated to consistency on other stories. I'm learning how to live in this new normal for me and there will be bumps along the way unfortunately. However, the reason I failed these past two weeks is because my son's last week of school was filled with events we were expected to attend and then the following week we were on vacation. However, we have almost nothing going on for the remainder of summer, so hopefully, I can be at least mostly consistent for the next few months!

Do you have any plans for the summer (or winter for my southern hemisphere readers)?