“Donotinsult my power by treating me as if my vacancy is permanent, Azazel.” The speaker’s tone is filled with disgusted anger but it is without a doubt Shade’s.
“Yes, Master,” a humming, unknown voice says with shame.
“Leave. And when I see you tomorrow, I expect better this time.”
Footsteps sound immediately.
Shit.
I tug on Saint’s arm once more but his head’s still tilted as if he wants to listen fully to their warm goodbye.
My palms grip his hips and he doesn’t even make a sound when I fling the man over my shoulder and haul ass out of the apartment, down the stairs, and out the fucking door before I even take a full breath.
Only when enough trees surround us do I toss his careless ass to the dirt. He lands like a leaf floating with ease to the ground. That shitty smile is still a permanent feature on his perfect face.
How is he this calm all the time?
“If you wanted to get me alone, you could have just said so. No need to manhandle me, Syko.” His long fingers dust off his shirt sleeve, all the while my heart’s hammering a mile a minute.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
His smile softens but it still clings to his lips. “Anxiety is something of the heart. And my heart is dead.”
That’s it. That’s all he says for several passing seconds.
And then it slowly makes sense.
“It’s hard to feel fear when your pulse doesn’t jump. Terror is there. It is. I’m not an idiot, Syko. It just takes me a bit longer to find the fear within me. But it also allows me to think clearly during times like that. And Professor Shade, he’s one shady motherfucker.”
He pushes off the dry ground, coming up chest to chest with me, my rapid breaths making my body brush against his. It calms me a little, being close to someone so clear-headed.
“We have to get back. We need to tell the others. I don’t know what he was talking about but it involves us. That demon was watching us.”
It was definitely a demon. It smelled like it once I was close enough.
Then more stress slips in as I think about what he just said.
My fingers grip his wrist, stopping him all over again. “Not tonight. Tomorrow. Tonight—tonight is Izzy’s night.”
“You can’t be serious,” Saint hisses.
“We’re dicks all the time. Bickering and mocking and flat out fighting all the time. Just—just give her one night to show we can do this as a...five-some.” My lip curls on that term. Surely there’s a better name for a five way relationship, right?
Saint’s crystal like eyes narrow on me as his head shakes back and forth. But then he gives in. “Fine. But I’m waking everyone up at dawn to get this shit out there.”
“Fine.” I nod.
His chin tips up to me with mock confrontation. “Fine,” he says as if he absolutely has to have the last word.
With one step my body is fully against his. Tension snaps through him. My lipsalmostbrush his. The heat of our chest melding blazes with zapping warmth.
But I never fully kiss him.
“Fine,” I whisper.
And then I walk away, nothing but stunned silence trailing me.
And then he curses and follows after me.
