He’d pulled on a pair of jeans, and he was holding…a spatula.
Because he was cooking.
“What the f**k happened to you?” I hadn’t intended the question, but once it was out there, I waited for the answer. I wanted to know, because, well, what the f**k had happened to him?
He glanced at me and sighed. “I grew up, Tilly.”
Not the answer I’d expected. At all.
I figured some creature almost got the better of him. Or he’d lost his nerve for some other reason. Or he’d had some kind of come to Jesus with the guild about some of his less human characteristics. The best monster hunters always had a touch of something extra, something not quite human. And Rafe had been one of the best.
He was no Van Helsing, of course… But still, pretty f*****g amazing as a hunter.
He plated the omelet he’d bee
