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I pulled away from the window and frowned at the wall I shared with Jade O’Neil.

What is she doing?

I heard a rattle that was likely her windows opening before more steps signaled she’d run back to the other end of her apartment.

I rubbed the back of my neck, glanced around my bedroom, then strode through my apartment heading for my front door.

I’d let myself fall into a foul mood. Observing my cheery neighbor would be a good mental escape, and then I’d go back to work, back to watching those Ambrose had left behind. In the meantime, at least, I’d amuse myself—with a human and a slayer.

CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO

Jade

Iturned on my oven light and stared at my latest baking attempt, Scottish shortbread, as I held my phone pinched between my shoulder and my ear. “You’recertainthey’re supposed to cook for a full 30 minutes? That seems like a long time, Nan.”

“Yes, love, it’s necessary—they should be a nice golden color. You poked the dough with the tines of a fork, yes?”

I squinted at my square mental pan filled with the shortbread dough, wincing at the very uneven lines of holes I’d pricked into the dough. “In a manner of speaking.” Nan’s and Mom’s holes had always been in perfect straight lines. Apparently, my aim with weapons didn’t transfer over to baking.

“Good—you’ll want to poke them again when they come out if you want the holes to be crisp and pronounced. Now, stop staring in the oven like I’m sure you are, throw caution to the wind, and tell me how you’re doing,” My grandmother ordered.

“I told you, I’m fine.” I backed away from my oven, but I left the light on.

“Not going to give up and come home to rejoin the family business?”

“Which business?” I asked, still distracted by my oven.

While both Dad’s and Mom’s families were slayers, it was only my dad’s family—the O’Neils—who worked full time as slayers. My mom’s family—the Carters—had chosen to partner with the O’Neils when my mom married my dad and had gone into semi-retirement as slayers and instead focused on their side gig, construction work.

My mom’s brothers had all specialized in various parts of construction work—drywall, plumbing, lighting, and so on—so they did a lot of building work for the supernatural community and fixed up any properties we O’Neil’s damaged while in pursuit of a vampire target for super cheap.

As an added bonus, if a target was especially difficult, the Carters would help—they all trained as slayers even if they weren’t on active duty.

“Either of them,” Nan said. “I don’t much care what you do as long as you settle close to home.”

I laughed. “I don’t think Dad would agree with you.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised! Fergus is fit to be tied these days without you.”

“Nan, please,” I said. “You make it sound like I was his right-hand man. I’m an average slayer.”

“Above average,” Nan stubbornly said.

I rolled my eyes. With my older brothers and all my cousins to compete with, I was aware that I rolled out in the middle of pack. Not that I was ashamed of it! I worked hard to rank even that well within the family.

My oven chirped—a warning that I had one minute left.

“I gotta go, Nan. The shortbread is almost done.”

“Very well—remember to poke it with a fork again!”

“Got it. Bye, Nan. Love you!”

“Love you too,” Nan said before my phone clicked and the conversation ended.

I set my phone aside, turned off my oven and grabbed oven mitts, cautiously optimistic that I’dfinallycorrectly baked something.

“Who cares if my holes aren’t straight, as long as the cookies aren’t burnt—”