“Florence Russo.”
“Malus. It’s Florence Malus now. But before that, I was Florence Blackwood.” I take a seat in the booth across from him, watching just the slightest bit of panic flicker across his face. Was I not supposed to know my past? Oops. Too bad, motherfucker. I knoweverything. “What do you want?”
“Hello to you too, Mrs. Malus.” He holds out his hand and I cross my arms, raising my eyebrows. I’m not shaking his hand. “Fine,” he says with a heavy sigh. “I’ll cut to the chase.”
“I’m on the edge of my seat.” I stare Marcus right in the eyes and take in a slow breath. Sitting here, staring at Marcus fucking Henry, reminds me who I am: a hunter. I fight the bad guys, but in this case, they’re not demons. “What do you want?”
“I want to talk to you, Florence.”
“Then this could have been an email.”
Marcus laughs. “I heard you were quite the spitfire, and I like that, kid.”
“Great. That makes two of us.”
The waitress brings Marcus a piece of pie and a coffee. “Want anything, honey?” she asks.
“I do,” I start, looking sad. “But Grandpa says I’m chubby.”
The waitress gasps and looks at Marcus, who awkwardly laughs. “What a jokester, this one. Have whatever you like.”
“Hot water with lemon then,” I say and look down. “I don’t want to spend another night in the basement if the scale goes up.”
“Shame on you,” the waitress hisses at Marcus as she walks away.
“Happy with yourself?” Marcus chides.
“Yeah. I am.” I let out a sigh. “Now I’m getting bored. Pray tell, what was so important to talk about?”
He takes a bite of pie and leans back. “I want to talk about you.”
I just roll my eyes and shrug. “Okay. I mean, I am awesome.”
“You’ve been through a lot, Wren, in the last few weeks. We’ve been informed of everything along the way.”
“Great. I should start a vlog and save you the leg work.”
Ignoring me, he goes on. “And I’m aware you are one of the best hunters we’ve seen in a very long time.”
“Because I’m a witch.”
“Because you are good.” He pauses and looks at me, as if he’s waiting for me to thank him. “You are skilled. Talented. And yes, having magic gives you an advantage we mere humans don’t have.”
I continue to stare, aware of the tricks he’s trying. Insult himself, compliment me. He can keep trying. It’s not going to work.
“We’ve watched you, Wren,” he goes on. “You should have risen through the ranks, not been held back in fear. A promotion to a higher position inside the Order would have made the others think twice before they chastised you for being who you were born to be.”
“Well, I’m not in the Order anymore, so it doesn’t matter.”
“But you could be again. That’s why I’m here, Florence.”
I raise an eyebrow, arms crossed over my chest. “What do you mean?”
“We can get you out of this whole mess,” he says and takes another slow bite of his pie. “Get you away from the Malus vampires and send you home.”
“Home?” My heart picks up speed, and if Xavier were here, he would notice. Marcus, thankfully, can only see what I want him to see.
He picks up his phone from the table and shows me a photo of a woman who, for a half second, I think is me.
