Page 24 of Grave Beginnings

“Noted. Meet you out front in twenty.” He vanished down the hall to the elevator bay, and I headed into the cafeteria, surprisedby the size, options, and activity. I walked up to the counter, a prep area that made custom sandwiches, toasted or not, and stared at the variety. Holy crap. We’d never had options this good at my last precinct.

“Hi,” the woman behind the glass said. “What can I get you?”

“Uh, do you happen to know Angel Mao? I’m his new partner and need to get a sandwich for him.”

“Sure.” She gave me a smile. “What about you?”

“Uh…” I read through the overhead list of suggestions. “Maybe give me whatever Angel is getting. It all looks good.”

I watched her put together a Philly style sandwich, toasted until the cheese melted and the bread was golden brown, extra peppers and onions—which I thought was weird—and an added layer of turkey on top. The extra protein made sense, since he was a shifter. He probably burned through calories fast.

“Can you add pickles to mine?” I asked.

“Sure,” she agreed, and heaped them on the second sandwich. The damn sandwiches barely fit in the to-go box she packed, but she added a handful of sliced carrots and cucumbers, as well as handmade potato chips. I was in awe of the sheer size, and all I had to do was scan my badge.

The coffee station was just as fancy, though the employee there—a large man with purple skin and horns—didn’t know what Angel would drink. He stared at me, gaze focused on my armband, which still had the hint of black in it but glowed bright red. Was he a demon? Was it speciesism to ask?

I made up two large, light roast coffees with room for cream, and grabbed a handful of creamer packets and sugars of all varieties, stuffing them into the bag before making my way to the elevator. My twenty minutes were almost up. Would Angel come looking for me all pissed off? And why did the thought of him fuming make me hot? Okay, well, it was a dumb question, as I playedotomegames when I had time, and had romanced more than my fair share of beyond hot virtual boyfriends. The morallygray ones drew me like a fly to honey, not that I thought that sort of man would be worth pursuing in real life. Morally gray had plenty of red flags to avoid. But in a game…

“Masochist much?” I asked myself as I found my way out the front where an SED painted SUV idled. Angel leaned against it; eyes closed as though he needed a nap. His nose twitched, and he opened his eyes, gaze zeroing in on the sandwich.

I hesitated, staring at the modern SUV with extra lights. Were we going into the Veil? Oh, fuck me.

“What?” Angel asked. “We don’t need an unmarked car and it was the cleanest I could find.”

“Is the DB across the Veil?”

“No, but the fastest way to the location has a shortcut through the Veil. I’m driving. I’ve seen my fair share of supes on the road.” He reached for the boxes and the coffee holder. “Location is near the new tear.”

I wondered if there was anything left of the daycare and how many people had abandoned their businesses and homes when the other side slipped into our realm. Angel set the cup carrier on the hood.

“These smell the same.”

“I ordered the same for both of us. Light roast with room for cream and a toasted Philly sandwich.”

“Marie must have been at the sandwich station.”

I couldn’t recall seeing a name tag, but he opened the lid of one of the coffees, and added two creams and a lot of real sugar. Maybe I should have gotten more. “You like your coffee sweet?”

He shrugged. “You?”

“I’m used to the swill that cops normally have. Three days old and burnt. Though, I prefer the fluffier kinds.”

Angel grimaced. “Gross.”

“I love coffee in general, just not the cold stuff. Coffee should be hot, and I’ll die on that hill.”

He snorted, took a sandwich box and a coffee, then made hisway around to the driver’s side. I added cream and a few packets of sweetener to my coffee, then got in the passenger side.

Angel had his box open and a triangle of the giant sandwich in his hands. It was only as he bit into it that I remembered one of them had pickles added and neither box had been marked to indicate which one. He paused, staring at the sandwich and chewing. I opened the box in my lap. Sure enough, no pickles.

“Sorry,” I said. “I added pickles to mine. Let’s switch.”

He took another bite, mulling over the taste. “I don’t hate it.”

“Uh, okay?”

He finished the triangle, then picked up two of his remaining pieces and switched them with two in mine, giving us each half. He stuffed two cucumbers in his mouth before putting us in drive. I munched on my sandwich, worrying about driving through the Veil.