Last Blood by Kristen Painter Page A

day, but dinner is just us.”
    She leaned down to kiss him. “Sounds good.”
    He grabbed her hand as she started away. “You knowif there’s something bothering you—or some
one
bothering you—you can tell me.”
    She smiled, making light of his words. “Isaiah still hasn’t baked that chocolate cake I asked for.”
    He laughed and pinched her side. “I’ll speak to him about it.”
    Thirty minutes later, Doc was off to his office and she was in the elevator, headed down to see Remo. There was only one thing she could think of to make things right after last night. She would
not
be the cause of more tension in the pride, or worse, be responsible for creating some kind of rift between this pride and the Brazilian one.
    The door opened and she stepped out onto his floor. Only two apartments here, both reserved for council members, just like the floor above it, except in this pride there hadn’t been a fourth council member in years. Instead, the second apartment was kept for DVs. Distinguished visitors. Remo’s father had stayed here when he’d come. Now his son was living in the apartment next door. She took a deep breath as she approached his door. Coming here was a risk, but not a big enough one to keep her away.
    She knocked. After a long minute, the door opened a crack.
    Remo peered at her, not far into his first cup of coffee, judging by his bed head and scruff. “What do you want?”
    “To apologize.”
    His eyes and the door opened a little wider. He wore soccer shorts and a T-shirt emblazoned with a Brazilian team logo. “For?”
    “Last night.” She fished the vial of sand out of herpocket and held it out. “You asked for this. You should have this.”
    He stared at it for a second before taking it from her.
    She spoke before he could say anything. “I want you to know I wasn’t wearing that as a symbol of your sister’s death or some kind of trophy or anything like that. It was a symbol of strength to me. A reminder of everything I’ve been through and survived so that when things were tough or I doubted myself, I could remember what I’ve endured to be here. That I’d earned my place as the pride leader’s wife no matter what some of the pride thinks of me. It was about my own journey, not your sister’s end. I promise.”
    He opened his hand so the vial lay on his palm, gleaming under the morning light filtering in from behind him. “Thank you. That… means a lot.”
    “And I want us to be… maybe not friends yet, but at least not enemies.”
    He closed his fist around the vial and his expression softened. “We’re not enemies. You’re the only one who’s shown me any genuine kindness.” He glanced at his hand, the same odd gleam she thought she’d seen before dancing through his gaze. Just like the last time, it disappeared quickly. “This is the start of a new future for me. For us both.”
    “Fitting in takes time. I’m not entirely there yet myself.”
    Tucking the vial into the pocket of his shorts, he opened the door farther. “You want to come in for coffee? It’s excellent. I brought it with me from São Paulo.”
    “Thanks, but I’ve got to be somewhere.” Not entirely true, but she wasn’t about to be alone with him in hisapartment. “Maybe you could come to dinner at our place tomorrow night.” Why had she said that? Doc was going to freak. Maybe.
    Remo’s face brightened at the invite. “That would be very good. Thank you.”
    “All right, seven o’clock then. The penthouse.” Like he didn’t know where they lived.
    He nodded. “See you then.”
    She waved and headed back to the elevator as his door shut. She’d have to run back upstairs and tell Isaiah so he could plan the dinner. She should probably give Doc the heads-up too. The elevator chimed. She stepped in and leaned against the wall.
    Shopping really didn’t seem like it was going to be that much fun after all.



Chapter Thirteen
    C hrysabelle was about to get in her car when Fi’s