Skyborn(24)

Logan just gave me a look, a look that said take a guess.

I swallowed hard. "The druids?"

He nodded. "The earthbound are powerful. They can command trees, water,  wind, and sky. They turned the land of Faery into a weapon that  destroyed itself."

And I might be half of one of them. The thought made me involuntarily shiver.

"So  …  the druids? Are they half human?" I tried to segue this into what I desperately needed to know.

Logan sighed, looking tired. How long had he been fighting them? "The  druids are one hundred percent highborn Fae. Pureblooded born of magic.  They only ever breed within their own race. It's a part of their creed."

Interesting. Now for the question I had wanted to ask all along …

"But  …  hypothetically, the druids could mate with  …  like, another pure magical being. Like a full-blooded sorcerer  …  like Eva?"

Or a full-blooded dragon, I thought.

Logan laughed. "Hypothetically yes, but they wouldn't touch another  supernatural in that way. They're all purists. It's ingrained in their  training. ‘One race. One blood.'"

I shivered. "Sounds pretty racist." It also sounded possible that I could be half druid …

Logan nodded. "You have no idea."

I sighed. "I could really use some cartoons after this dark conversation." I was completely freaking out.

Logan laughed, a deep and honest belly laugh that was contagious and had the corner of my lips curling.

"You're funny, you know that, Sloane?" He cocked his head to the side.

I shrugged. "I've been told that a few times, yeah."

He pursed his lips, looking more serious. "It's been a long time since I  had something to laugh about. I'm  …  glad you're here." I could tell he  wasn't the kind of guy to dole out compliments. It looked like that one  was really hard for him.

You won't be when you find out what I am, I wanted to say.

"Me too," I said in a rush, and then started walking inside. "Come on, it's cold."

Number one thing on my list of to do's: keep this house from learning  that I was part monster. And two: pray that Eva never told a soul.





9





"WAKE UP. It's time to train," a deep voice said from beside my bed. I  opened one eye, saw the sexy dragon shifter standing over me, and then  looked at the alarm clock. 6 AM. I groaned.                       
       
           



       

"Go away." I turned over and gave Logan my back. When I turned, my  living hat moved with me. Mittens had become my own personal sleeping  beanie. She was obsessed with my red hair or something, and literally  slept atop my head every night.

"You stole my cat," Logan growled, making kissy noises, trying to coax Mittens away from me.

"Hah!" I said, half garbled and into the pillow. "She's stalking me. I didn't ask for her to become my living hair scrunchie."

Logan's foot dug into the soft spot behind my knee. "Up! Come on. Gotta teach you to keep yourself alive."

I sighed. Damn, I had really started to like this guy and I didn't  really want to be the last dragon alive  …  but if he didn't stop poking  me at 6 AM I was going to kill him.

Sophie's voice came from the doorway. "Come on, princess. You said you would help me with the cooking."

Oh. Hell. No. I wasn't going to let her lord this shit over me-call me princess or lazy or God knows what else.

I rolled over so quickly Mittens leapt off of my head and flew under the  bed. Sophie was gone from the doorway and Logan had a black cellphone  in his hands. Now that I was awake, he tossed it on the bed. "This phone  is yours now. I programmed the pack and Eva's numbers into it."

That was sweet of him  …  but not sweet enough to make up for waking me so early.

"Thanks," I mumbled grumpily. Logan just smiled and turned to walk away.

"Logan," I called after him.

He turned and looked back at me.

"One of these days you're going to wake me too early and I can't be  liable for what happens to you," I told him, one hand on my hip. My hair  was in a top knot and I was wearing tight sleep pants and a thin  thermal shirt with no bra. Not exactly a Victoria Secret model, but when  I made that threat, heat flared in Logan's eyes, and he looked my body  up and down.

"I'll take my chances." He winked and left the room.

I exhaled loudly, trying to ignore the pulse of passion that started up  every time I was in the room with that man. I needed a cold shower.

I made it downstairs in record time. Seven minutes and I was brushed,  showered, and shaved. I had never been one of those high-maintenance  girls. Just some mascara and lip gloss and I was good to go.

Sophie was making the coffee and I jumped right in to help. Opening the  fridge and freezer at the same time, I took stock of the ingredients.  Eggs, bacon, hash browns. Boring. I didn't watch six thousand hours of  Chopped and Iron Chef to serve basic breakfast on my first day as the  pack's new chef.

"You got breakfast?" Sophie asked. She was all done up with full make up  and a push up bra under her sports bra, making the girls extra perky.

I nodded. "I got this."

She looked unsure but then shrugged. "Alright, I'll go for my run, then."

Logan and Keegan were sitting on barstools drinking coffee and  discussing the new hires, while Gear, Cooper and Nadine made their way  into the living room.

"You need help?" Nadine offered, looking sleepy.

I smiled. "Sure. You can be my sous-chef."

"Huh?" She looked confused.

I just chuckled and handled her the bacon. "Start cutting these in half. I want small strips."

She shrugged. "I can do that. But fair warning, don't let me near the stove."

"Got it." I winked.

I pulled the hash browns out and started them browning while I heated  two other pans for my eggs and bacon. Then I went to the spice cabinet  and was relieved to see a pretty good stock. I pulled the cayenne pepper  and salt, then got a small pan going for my sauce. After separating the  yolks and squeezing some lemon juice into the pot, I added the salt and  cayenne pepper and I had the makings of some fine hollandaise sauce.

Nadine looked at me. "Okay, they're small."

I quickly made a woven hatch pattern with the small bacon strips while  the sauce simmered, then put the woven bacon squares into the hot frying  pan. The moment it hit the griddle, Logan and Keegan started moaning.

"That smells amazing," Keegan said, standing.

"Is that hollandaise?" Logan asked in shock, peering over the counter and into my pot.

I nodded. I didn't like talking much when I was in the kitchen. It  messed with my Zen. Cooking was therapy for me. My mom and I would cook  everything from scratch sometimes, making an entire two-hour meal  without saying more than a few words. We just worked intuitively around  each other like old friends.

My heart pinched at the memory as I dropped my eggs onto the frying pan  and began using a glass to cut perfect circles of the hash browns. They  were going to have to be in place of my English muffin since we didn't  have any.                       
       
           



       

I instructed Nadine to line up the plates and then started an assembly  line, laying two circles of hash browns on each plate, a sunny-side up  egg on each hash brown, a woven bacon square, and then a drizzle of  hollandaise over everything. By the time I was done, I looked up to find  the entire pack staring at the food, drooling. Even Sophie, who was  back from her run, looked impressed.

"Bon appétit," I told everyone, and then they all pushed forward to grab a plate.

The second the moans started, I couldn't help but smile. I had cooked  for my mom, a few friends from college, and an ex-boyfriend, but never a  big group like this.

"You're so fired," Keegan told Sophie with a mouthful of food.

Sophie gave him the middle finger, but her half smile made it lighthearted.

Dom had come in from his watch station outside and grabbed a plate,  mumbling his thanks to me. I saw at least six guns peeking out of his  jeans and boots and strapped behind his shoulders. This man was  seriously packing.

Logan was finishing his last bite when he lifted his head to me. "Where did you learn to cook like this?"

I swallowed and then shrugged. "My mom was an avid cook and had a full  garden. We grew fifty percent of what we ate. After she got sick, I  learned most of my tricks from cable TV."

He nodded. "So  …  what's for dinner?"

Everyone laughed, myself included. But the feminist in me rose up then.  "I'll tell you what: I'll cook every meal for the next two weeks, but  only if the boys watch and learn. We can split the cooking. I'm nobody's  maid or chef."