Setting foot in the mansion reminded Vesper why she didn’t live here. She didn’t feel comfortable with anything less than a solid sheet of limestone over her head—if she had anything over her head at all. Whether it was a grungy old place like this, a dilapidated barn, or a more “modern” structure like in the city, she could never shake the feeling that everything was going to simply collapse on top of her. She didn’t trust what others made, usually, and while she might make exceptions for a skilled luperci, she sure as hell wasn’t going to put her faith in a race of beings that had died out decades ago.
A breeze blew in from outdoors, stirring the melting pot of aromas in the kitchen and bringing a thoughtful sort of grimace to the female’s face. She watched Rémy work without any particular interest, knowing that the magic of spices and stews and everything else was beyond her. Drawing a chair away from the table with a groan from the wood, she sank down into it and adjusted her weight until the thing stopped wobbling underneath her.
She rested an arm on the nondescript table, her index claw working a scar in the wood to add to the growing collection, and grinned toothily as Rémy shared his secrets with Asher. The collie was hovering half-over the pot, shying back a little every time the Cajun moved, but still close enough as to almost be leaning into him. His yellow eyes were bright, and he nodded enthusiastically at everything he said, as if this were the greatest piece of wisdom anyone had ever shared with him (which was untrue, Ves knew; she’d given him some wisdom herself). She had no doubt that he was sincerely interested, and she couldn’t tell whether his eagerness was adorable or pathetic. She snorted then smiled at Max as the chef took a break to address his troublemaking.
“But if we beat them all off with sticks, no one will come around to bother us anymore,” Vesper pointed out, letting her face soften up to look sad. “And that’d be boring.”
Asher wagged his tail, oblivious, and piped up: “Do you think you could teach me, Rémy? Ves says I don’t fight well enough yet, but I don’t have the…muscle to pull it off.” He cocked his head innocently, and Vesper didn't have to think hard to imagine how much he was probably drooling.
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