Red in the Blue

Chapter 17

The next morning, James rapped on my door and stuck her head in.

"Cade's down to meet in an hour. After breakfast."

I stopped my scrolling and sat up straighter in bed.

"He's coming here, or?"

"No, we're going to his office. I said we'd be over about 10."

I had wanted to know if he had an office. What it looked like. What he did there. So okay. Today I would find out.

I washed my face and did my skincare, left my hair down. Surveying my clothing options from Irene, I hesitated. I was so grateful she'd brought me things, so glad I didn't have to go in a hoodie and yoga pants. But the clothes were just a smidge outside of my normal attire. Not quite what I would have chosen—like my style but at a slant. In the end, I stepped into the flowing yellow skirt with flowers printed on it—Cade couldn't look up and down my legs again if they were mostly hidden—and a cropped t-shirt, the same oatmeal color as the cardigan, which I slung over my arm. I stepped into chunky black ankle boots that laced up, the ones I'd worn on the plane. They were shoes that made me feel equipped and safe. In control. If I had to kill bugs at home, these were the boots I shoved my feet into. If I needed to feel brave, these were the boots. I finger-curled a few stubborn strays of my loosely wavy hair in the mirror and curled my eyelashes. I texted Liz to wish me luck.

When I walked into the kitchen, James looked me over and said starkly, "well you look very...soft."

I'd never seen her wear anything but loose cargo pants low across her hips, soft t-shirts, sneakers. We ate leftover breakfast from Elias' visit—including the final donuts.

"What's Cade's office like?" I asked, sitting in my usual chair at the table. James scrolled on her phone while she ate.

"What do you want to know?"

"Like...the vibe, I don't know."

"I would've thought you'd learned by now that I don't do vibes," she answered. "I could guess, but I'm usually wrong."

I laughed. She was right—I was getting a better feel for what James did and didn't notice.

New smells? Yes. A window cracked from across the room? Yes. A different brand of butter? Yes. Any shift in the wind or cracked twig outside. Any corruption of pattern. Anything out of place. It's what made her a good protector. And that was its own kind of vibe check. But she wasn't keyed into the feelings of things like I was. It had frustrated me at first, when I felt like she was keeping information from me, like she knew more than I did and was being purposefully evasive. But I had learned by now that she really, truly did not know. It wasn't information she registered.

"I think the chairs are green," she said. "Maybe blue. There's books and stuff."

We talked a little on the drive over but mostly sat quietly in the silent car. I didn't mind it, but I was getting nervous. I knew what I would say: I want to go home. How can I make that happen. But if he said no, what was my rebuttal? It would depend why. If it was because of Eric or the other pack. If he thought I owed him something for saving my life. I didn't think that was it. But so many felt entitled to their mates. Maybe some part of him did too. Maybe some part of him thought he should be compensated for his trouble.

We passed through downtown, where I assumed the office would be, but didn't stop. James pointed out Yale University to me—how had I not known Yale was in New Haven?

"Isn't this, like...a werewolf town? Like mostly wolves. A whole pack here."

"Yale is mostly wolves," James shot back, grinning. "Anyone affiliated with the pack at a certain level can audit classes for free. I've taken the most random shit."