"We're going out," I continued, enjoying the way her eyes widened, the flush that immediately climbed her cheeks.
"Out?" she repeated, the word coming out as a choked whisper.
The bottle in her hands wobbled dangerously. I plucked it from her grasp before it could fall, setting it on the counter. My claws brushed her fingers in the exchange, and I didn't miss the slight shiver that traveled through her at the contact. Her body remembered mine, even if her mind was still fighting the connection.
"Yes, out," I confirmed. "Away from this café and work. Just you and me."
The sound of a pastry tray slamming down on the counter announced Silas's arrival. The baker abandoned his knife shaped cookies to materialize at Simone's side, eyes narrowed to glowing slits. Simultaneously, Bramble zipped down from the garland she'd been arranging, wings a blur of iridescent motion as she positioned herself protectively near Simone's shoulder.
"Excuse me?" Silas's voice dripped with acidic politeness. "Did you just commandeer our manager in the middle of our busiest shift?"
I kept my posture relaxed, though I straightened to my full height, a subtle reminder of the power dynamics at play. "I own this café. I can commandeer whoever I wish."
Bramble's tiny wings buzzed with irritation. "So what exactly is going on here? Is she the manager now? Or your girlfriend? Or your captive?"
"Guys, it's fine," Simone attempted, her hands fidgeting with her apron ties. "I can just stay and—"
"No," I interrupted, my voice quiet but allowing no argument. "You can't."
Silas crossed his arms. "You didn't answer the question. What's your endgame here? One day you're evaluating her job performance, the next you're fucking her in the greenhouse—"
Simone made a strangled noise of mortification.
"—and now you're dragging her out during peak hours? What exactly are you doing with her?"
I studied the demon baker and the protective pixie, noting the genuine concern beneath their aggression. My conversation with them earlier had confirmed what I suspected, Simone had built a family here, whether she recognized it or not. They weren't just colleagues; they were her protectors, her support system.
"I'm showing her that she's allowed to live," I said finally, each word measured and deliberate. "Not just work. Not just serve. Live."
The simple declaration seemed to catch everyone off guard. Silas's hostile stance faltered slightly. Bramble's wings slowed their agitated beating. Even Simone stared at me with an expression of confused wonder, as if I'd spoken in a language she barely understood.
"But the café..." she protested weakly.
"Will survive without you for one afternoon," I finished for her. I turned toward the door, my decision made and not up for debate. "Coat. Now. Unless you'd prefer to be tossed over my shoulder."
The café went completely silent at the provocative statement. Every creature present seemed to collectively hold their breath, waiting to see how this confrontation would resolve. I paused at the door, turning back to fix Simone with a stare that held both command and challenge, allowing my eyes to glow slightly with power.
"I don't..." she began, fingers still twisted in her apron strings. "I have inventory to—"
"Simone," I said calmly. "Don't make me come get you."
She swallowed hard. For a moment, I thought she might actually refuse and force me to make good on my threat of carrying her out before an audience of fascinated supernatural beings.
Then, with trembling fingers, she untied her apron. She folded the apron with habitual neatness, placing it on the counter beside the forgotten syrup bottles.
"I'll need my coat," she said quietly. "It's cold outside."
Silas stared between us, clearly torn between continued protest and reluctant acceptance. Finally, he sighed dramatically, threw his hands up, and stalked to the back room. He returned moments later with Simone's worn winter coat, thrusting it at her with a pointed look.
"Have her back by sunset," he told me, his tone making it clear this wasn't a request. "Or we're coming to find you."
I smiled, revealing just enough fang to remind him who he was addressing. "I'll return her when our business is concluded."
Bramble zipped up to hover directly in front of my face, fearless despite her tiny stature. "Whatever this is, she better come back happy."
I inclined my head slightly, acknowledging the warning. Then I extended my arm toward Simone, who hesitated only briefly before slipping her hand into the crook of my elbow. The contact, simple as it was, sent a pulse of satisfaction through me. She was coming willingly, reluctantly, perhaps, but without requiring the more dramatic extraction I'd half-hoped to employ.
As we moved toward the door, I felt the weight of every gaze in the café following us. Good. Let them see. Let themunderstand that Simone Parker belonged to me now, not just as an employee, but as something far more significant.
