“Didn’t invite you for the décor,” I said, locking the door behind us.
She turned on me then, eyes flashing. “You could’ve just told me you were worried instead of playing caveman in front of your friends.”
I stepped closer, my voice low. “You think this is about my pride? You were a target last night, Grace. The Scorpions don’t miss twice.”
Her jaw tightened, but her voice dropped. “You think I don’t know how dangerous this is? My father raised me for this kind of world. I can handle myself.”
I shook my head. “You’ve got his fire; I’ll give you that. But right now, that’s not enough.”
“Then teach me,” she snapped. “Don’t just drag me around like I’m some damsel in distress.”
I let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of my neck. “You don’t want me teachin’ you, sweetheart. Not my kind of lessons.”
Her lips curved, part smirk, part challenge. “You underestimate me.”
“Not even a little,” I said, watching her settle onto the edge of the couch. “You just don’t listen.”
“Maybe I don’t take orders well,” she said, eyes locking on mine.
“Then we’re gonna have a problem,” I said, my voice dropping lower.
For a few seconds, neither of us said a word. The rain outside picked up again, soft against the windows. She looked away first, her fingers brushing the sleeve of her jacket where a bit of ash still clung from the shop.
“What happens now?” she asked quietly.
“Now, you stay put. You eat somethin’, you rest. Tomorrow, we deal with the shop.”
“And you?”
“I’ll stay up and keep watch. The bedroom is down the hall,” I said.
“No, Hellsing. I mean, what are you thinking of doing about Bael?”
“First, I need to figure out why the hell the Scorpions went after you in the first place. I’ll deal with the demons later.”
She tilted her head, and I could tell by the look on her face, that she was trying to read me. “You sound like my father.”
“That’s ‘cause I promised him I’d keep you safe.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them, and I saw something flicker in her expression. Surprise, maybe. But she didn’t press.
Instead, she sank back against the couch, the tension in her shoulders easing just a little. “You always this bossy?”
I smirked, taking off my jacket. “You always this stubborn?”
She gave me a small smile. “Always had to be, did you not meet my father?”
I poured two glasses of whiskey, handed her one, and leaned against the table. She took it without hesitation. For a minute, the silence between us wasn’t heavy, just steady. But it was familiar.
Maybe too familiar.
Because for the first time in a long damn while, I wasn’t thinking about demons or deals or promises I’d made to ghosts. I was thinking about her.
And that was a dangerous place to be.
“Come on.”
I urged her to follow me down the short hall to the bedroom. The place wasn’t fancy, just clean enough to sleep in and closeenough to reach my gun if I needed it. I pulled open the closet, grabbed a set of clean sheets and a towel, and tossed them onto the bed.
