I don't react to Alec's anger and sarcasm like I did the first time I came here. If this is how he copes, let him. My version of coping, I guess, is trying to pretend nothing is happening, because if I stew in it too long I'm afraid I'm going to drown. It hasn't worked very well, yet, but maybe it will if I'm not alone.

"You could use one," I say dryly, and move over to the kitchen where Alec came from. I look from the whiskey to rum, and choose the latter, stirring the blood in and returning to the couch.

"So I was thinking," I say, gently moving the glass in a circular motion before taking a drink, "maybe we should set fire to the mayor's office since he isn't taking this seriously."