My cell phone was screen-down on the counter in the kitchen. I picked it up and together, Reid and I looked at the caller ID.
He sighed. “I was kinda hoping it’d be Finnian.”
Definitely bloodthirsty by nature.
This was the third time in a row that Copeland had called—in the short time it took us to get downstairs, we missed the first two.
He spoke before I could utter a single syllable.
“‘Bout time you answered!” he exclaimed.
“What happened?” I asked, as I switched the call to speakerphone. Reid and I leaned against the counter, side-by-side.
He sounded thoroughly shaken. “I was just interrogated by the High Priestess of my goddamn coven.”
Reid and I exchanged a look of mutual surprise.
“I’m fine, everything’s fine, and I even got to keep what I found stashed away in Claude’s
