“I can’t say I disagree. And you, beautiful, what do you think?”
“I think?—”
Our server came over, stopping my thoughts. Her copper corkscrews, amber eyes, and gorgeous bronze face sparked something in my memory, but I couldn’t place it.
She gave Alexei a soft smile. “Same as usual?”
He smiled back. “You know me too well, Lini.”
“And for you two?” she asked.
But for the life of me, I couldn’t speak. I was forgetting something important, something about this female. She shifted on her feet.
Oliver elbowed me and handed me a menu. “Stop being weird. Look and order.”
I glanced down at the menu, still unable to shake the feeling. “I?—”
Luckily, Alexei saved me. “She’ll have what I’m having.”
Oliver ordered next, and Lini left to put in our order, my gaze trailing after her retreating form.
“You okay?” Alexei touched my hand and held it there.
“I know her, but I can’t remember from where.”
“Really? Lini’s a soul who’s been in Hell longer than you’ve been alive. And you’re how old?”
That couldn’t be. I’d seen her somewhere.
I sighed and pulled my hand from his lingering hold. “Twenty.”
Alexei sat back in his chair, shaking his head. “Damn, you’re young.”
I snorted. “Let me guess, you’re like three hundred?”
The corners of his mouth twitched with barely concealed amusement, a gleam of mischief threading through his crystal eyes. “Give or take.”
“And the general? How old is he? Has he been in Hell long?” I asked casually.
Alexei’s playful expression tightened, his lips forming a skeptical curve. “Why do you want to know?”
I needed to learn everything I could about him—what made him tick, what got under his skin. I had to figure out what he liked, what he hated, and what he respected. Honestly, I’d take anything that could give us an edge, anything that might convince him to help us. Every scrap of information could be a step closer to getting what we needed.
Alexei crossed his arms, staring expectantly at me.
Before I could come up with a sufficient answer, a different server delivered our food and drink.
Turned out Alexei’susualwas a deep red martini called the Devil’s Cocktail that misted with smoke, and for his meal, the Fiery Feast.
Spice curled from the steam of my bowl. I took a hesitant spoonful and smiled. The stew wasn’t half bad. A second after I swallowed, I coughed, the spice burning the back of my throat. My faceflushed, and I dabbed at my runny nose, giving Alexei an accusatory glance.
He snorted. “I like my food spicy—the same way I like my sex.”
I choked on my next bite. Alexei laughed, and Oliver pounded my back.
“Good thing this wasn’t actually a whore house or our dear Lucy might’ve keeled over,” Oliver teased.
I swatted at him in good-natured outrage and took a large drink of the red cocktail to soothe my throat. The burn of the alcohol was instant on my tongue. I gagged and slapped a hand over my mouth to avoid spitting it out, forcing it down.
