Page 27 of Roguefinder

“I hope your flight was uneventful,” Stefanos said smoothly.

Beside me, Caleb scowled, clearly picking up every word with a werewolf’s superior hearing.

Stopping, I scanned the street. An older woman walked a small dog toward us, the animal’s white fur styled with the same care and flourish as her snowy bob. Men carried a sofa from a delivery van parked on the corner in the distance.

“It was,” I told Stefanos, although he already knew. Undoubtedly, he’d tracked our flight.

“I received your report on Moray,” Stefanos said. “I want you to visit Carlo Gesualdo as soon as possible. I’ll make the arrangements.”

“All right.”

Silence crossed the line. “Caleb needs to dispose of his mobile,” he said finally. “The vampires are almost certainly aware of your presence, but we don’t need to broadcast your location.”

Caleb’s scowl darkened several shades. He clutched his phone to his chest like he expected Stefanos to materialize in front of us and snatch it from his hand. “I just got it!”

“You can purchase another at the conclusion of this mission,” Stefanos said, his tone pleasant and inflexible.

Caleb shoved the phone into the pocket of his sweats. “Or you can buy one,” he said not quietly enough.

I gave him a warning look.

“Add it to your expense report,” Stefanos said. Something shifted in his voice—not quite amusement, but in the vicinity of it, as if he’d allowed himself to be genuinely entertained. “I expect compliance.”

Caleb gripped his backpack straps, his expression mulish. “I heard you.”

Another pause, then Stefanos said, “I’m curious, Caleb. Did you find Sterling Moray trustworthy?”

Caleb’s jaw set. “I don’t think anyone should trust that bitch.”

More silence on the line. I glared at Caleb even as laughter rose in my throat. He had the grace to look chastised.

“I think,” Stefanos said carefully, “you mean witch.”

Distaste twisted Caleb’s mouth. “Trust me, I meant bitch.”

I was absolutely not going to laugh. No one spoke to Stefanos that way, certainly not brand-new werewolves who’d barely survived a Council trial.

“Get settled, Jesse,” Stefanos said in his usual dry register. “I’ll work on arranging the meeting with Carlo.”

“I’ll wait for your instructions,” I said.

The call ended.

Caleb watched me pocket the phone. “Am I going to get spanked for that?”

“You deserve it.”

We started walking, and he slanted me a look that was anything but contrite. Then he sobered. “I probably pissed him off, huh?”

“Actually,” I said, “I think he likes you.”

Caleb blinked. “Are we talking about the same Stefanos?”

The smile I’d been fighting broke free of my restraint. “Yes. You surprise him, which is hard to do to someone his age. And before you ask, I don’t know how old he is. Based on stories I’ve heard and some things he’s said, I suspect it’s well over two thousand years.”

Caleb absorbed this. The shops we passed gave way to multi-story houses covered in ivy. After a moment, he shot me another look. “Do I really have to ditch the phone?”

“Yes.”