I squint at him. “You do?Why?”
He arches a brow. “I've lived here hundreds of years. It's a useful skill.”
“Really?” It makes no sense to me. Why would a shadow monster need to know CPR?
“One reads,” he says, shrugging a shoulder.
I notice he’s wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. I’ve only ever seen him in a suit. “Why are you dressed like that? Actually, I don't care. What are you even doing here so early? It's barely ten.”
That twitch in the corner of his mouth takes on a smug quality. “Our weak-minded Tamara was able to retrieve the address of Gold Weaver, Inc from her memory. It's a warehouse, but I'm not sure it's what you are hoping for. I'm dressed like this because anything else would stand out where we need to go tonight. I came to ask if you'd like to accompany me there to see it for yourself.”
“Tamara gave up the goods?”
He flashes me a conspiratorial grin. “She is truly as simple as they come. Barely a glance in her direction and she spilled the contents of her brain like a candy dish.”
I'd like to say I’m a big enough person not to revel in that, but I'm not. I thoroughly enjoy the idea of Tamara contributing to Tony's downfall, and I cackle at the thought of Damien coaxing all the info out of her. “So, where is it? When do you want to go?” I fold my arms against a night breeze that chills me to the bone.
“Now would be best. There are only so many hours before dawn.”
“Okay.” I hold out my hand.
His brows sink and he stares down at my offered palm. “What exactly do you think is going to happen here?”
“You're going to take my hand and whisk me away in a column of smoke to show me the warehouse.”
He snorts, then gives a low, gritty laugh. “No.”
“No?”
“I'm afraid it doesn't work that way. Only shades can travel through shadow. If I tried to take you with me, the transmutation would split you into a million molecules, never to be put back together. The process would make quite a mess and result in your death.”
Inhaling sharply, I point at his chest. “You just called yourself ashade.”
He rolls his eyes. “Yes, I am a shade. Not a vampire. Not the boogeyman. A shade.”
“Oh.” I scratch my neck. “What exactly is a shade?”
“The clock is ticking, little bird. Would you like a lesson on supernatural creatures of the universe or to find a way to stop your husband from taking your home?”
“Hmm, you're a grump tonight.” I plant my fists on my hips. “How are we supposed to get there?”
He peers at me as if I’m dim. “I assume you have a vehicle?”
I sigh. “Yeah, I do, but we're going to have to stop for gas.”
“Lead the way.”
After a quick detour to grab my purse and keys, I load Damien into my Jeep, a feat that requires adjusting the passenger's seat all the way back to accommodate his grizzly bear sized height and girth. He tells me the warehouse is in Richmond, so I take off in that direction, glancing wearily at the oil light. I've added the last quart from the garage. With any luck, we'll make it to Richmond and back without it needing more.
After a few miles of riding in silence, I glance over to his side of the Jeep. “It must be hard for you to travel like thiswhen you can basically go anywhere you want in the blink of an eye.”
He doesn't say anything for a moment, but a muscle in his jaw tics. “It is no inconvenience spending time with you.”
I do a double take, then stare at the road. Another glance over, and he’s impassive, but my mind toys with his comment. It was… nice? “It's no inconvenience spending time with you either,” I say.
“Why would it be for you? I'm serving your needs.”
“I don't have the candle with me. You don't have to be here.”
