Oh, please, he was so, so much older, but that consideration would take him to dangerous territory. “I’m not sweet?”
“Not like her. And besides, you call me sweetheart all the time even though I’ve told you not to, so...”
“I can stop. If it really pisses you off.”
She shrugged, but something in it was simply too careless. “Whatever.”
Hunter narrowed his eyes. “Wait a second.” He pointed an accusing finger at her. “Youlikeit.”
“Shut up.”
“I knew it. You like it when I call you sweetheart.”
“Shut. Up.” But she couldn’t quite suppress the smile playing on her lips. “Tell me if you’ve got plans for tonight instead of keeping up this bull.”
“I have plans, all right. There’s a place right before the canyon where the pizza is excellent.”
“The one by the brewery?”
“Yeah. Dinner there, then back to our place, and—”
“I’m all done!” Mrs. Marshall declared loudly, reappearing with a stack of books. She thunked them onto the counter and rummaged in her purse, probably searching for her library card. “You know, I dreamed about you last night.”
The hair on Hunter’s arms raised. A feeling, wrong and ugly, slithered fast in the room. Mrs. Marshall’s hand stopped midair while she was giving Daphne the card. Her eyes glazed over; her voice flattened. “You were screaming. Screaming.” She sighed. “Screaming.” Her shadow bent toward Daphne, nearly touching her. Then, as fast as it started, the strange energy vanished. Mrs. Marshall blinked, brightened again, and held out her library card. “Here you go, sweetheart.”
Daphne took it with a smile that had lost warmth, but her hands remained steady. That odd awareness of her touched him again–confused, worried, a little scared, but not terrified. This woman would walk through the fires of hell and only be mildly concerned about burning her feet.
Mrs. Marshall left with all the books safely tucked away in her tote. “I’ll see you in January for book club, sweetheart.”
The library door closed, and Daphne smacked her lips, clearing her voice. “That was weird, right? Whatever it is that happened.” She kept her eyes on the door and the night beyond. “Weird.”
“Yep. Sure was.” Hunter would have had so much to add to that, but the truth was, he had no clue. About anything at this point except wanting her safe. He needed to talk to Dorian ASAP. “Ready to go?”
“Yes, definitely.”
~*~
“Alright,” Daphne parked the car in her spot, turned it off, but didn’t open the door to leave. Instead, she turned toward him, her no-nonsense face in place. “What’s up, Hunter?”
He schooled his face into chill and ease. “Like, in life, or more specifically for right now? We just had a very nice dinner. I’m all good.”
“Bullshit. You’ve been off the entire night.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“Yes, you were, and if you don’t stop being dumb, I will headbutt your pretty nose.”
“You know, giving away the element of surprise is never a good idea.”
“What. Is. Up.”
He wiggled in the seat, cleared his voice. “I guess I’m tired.”
Her face didn’t change one bit. “You bragged about your stamina for two days straight.”
“Yeah, but that’s my boy down there.” He tapped his chest. “I can get tired.”
“Demons do not get tired. Try again.”
