Joseph groaned under his breath. "Drama queen."
"I said—" Vera snapped at him, jabbing a finger at the screen,"—find me the mean werewolves. The bullies. The ones no one will sympathize with. The wolves who abuse their human spouses. Because for the first time there won't be a shield protecting them."
She breathed, "I need my horsemen to start the apocalypse. They're going to help me burn this world to the ground!"
From the look Jordan and Joseph shared, it was obvious they thought she had lost her mind.
Then, as if she had not lost it, Vera composed herself, smoothing her expression into a pleasant smile.
"Chop chop, we're working against a clock. I want results while I go check on our brother." She turned away, muttering under her breath, "Hopefully he's not wasted this time."
Except when Vera pushed open the door to Patrick's quarters without knocking, it was the stench of alcohol that hit her instantly.
