“Yeah? Then go to dinner with just your button-up and vest. You look so stuffy and it’s always warm in that place. You’re going to swelter.”
“You leave your guns in the car, and I’ll leave my suit jacket in here to keep them company.”
“We better button that suit up tight,” I say as I reach over and button the top button which must have come undone when he entered the car. “Don’t want you getting cold, now.”
“Do you not see me driving here? Do you want me to wreck this car? Keep your hands on your side of the vehicle.”
“You’re so feisty… it’s sexy.”
“Don’t you have things to do, like think about how to become a serial killer?”
“It’s okay, I’ve just slapped the ‘assassin’ tag on myself so people think it’s cool. You ever wonder why media romanticizes assassins but draws the line at serial killers?”
“Serial killers generally kill innocent people. Why are we having this discussion?”
“So on a scale of sexy, where do I fall?”
“On a scale of stubborn humans who don’t know how to listen, you rank quite high.”
“I like to know that you’re thinking about me,” I say.
“DidI say any of that? I swear you turn my words around, refuse to listen, irritate me, and wear that damn grin on your face like you’re loving it.”
“Iamloving it,” I say, grin widening. “Pocket Lint is also loving it. Give Papa a kiss.”
I hold Pocket Lint up to Ellison just as he’s pulling into the parking lot of the center that Nolan is housed in. Instead of the kiss that I really felt like Pocket Lint was going to deliver, she latches on to his earlobe.
“Dammit!” he yelps and because he’d been minorly preoccupied, he doesn’t see a car backing out and slams right into the rear of it. Pocket Lint, realizing the wrongs of her ways, lets go just as the airbag goes off and the seat belts lock in place.
Ellison punches the airbag out of his face before slowly looking over at me. As blood rolls down his nose and drips on his fancy suit, I quickly reach over and adjust his glasses that have gone askew before I turn invisible. I slide Pocket Lint under my shirt so she also can’t be seen.
“Asmodeus.”
“Asmodeus is gone. He has been taken down in a chariot led by hellhounds to the underground,” I whisper.
“Asmodeus.”
“Asmodeus isn’t here but if he was, he’d make sure you knew that it is the fault of the person who backed out when you pulled in.”
Thankfully, the other car wasn’t damaged and Ellison’s rolls into the parking spot just fine… if fine includes the rage he obviously feels.
“Will it make you feel better if your Fructose Daddy bought you a new car? I’ll have it delivered tomorrow.”
Ellison still hasn’t said anything other than my name, and when I get out of the car, I hurry around to face him, dropping the invisibility as he slowly gets out and glares at me. I see bloodhas dripped onto his suit jacket, so I reach out and unbutton the jacket while he stares me in the eyes. It’s quite threateningandconcerning.
“Your corneas would make a lesser man tremble,” I assure him as I slide the jacket off his shoulders. I even pull out the little pocket square to dab at his bloody nose before tossing both into the car. “Good as new! And I finally got you out of that stuffy jacket.”
He turns on his heel and stomps back to the trunk, which he pops, then unzips a perfectly pressed jacket out of its protective bag and begins sliding it on.
I scowl at it while I try to pull it from him. “Put it back. The angels smile upon you when you don’t have it on!”
Suddenly, he’s trying to cram the hanger on my head and uses it as a distraction to shove me into the trunk.
“This is what you would call a murder,” Landon comments as he walks up in time to witness my demise. “Didn’t I ask if you could murder him on a different day?”
“Itisa different day,” August says.
“Oh, right. But I started a new book series, and I don’t want to waste time at a funeral, so like… maybe a different,differentday.”
