“So you’re not saying anything?” he demands at Dominic’s broad back.
No response.
“DOMINIC VOSS!”
The name cracks like a whip.
I close my eyes.Terrible idea, Nate.Yelling at Dominic is the fastest way to ensure he will NEVER help you.
Dom rolls his eyes with agonizing slowness, like listening to us is physically painful. He turns, leaning against the counter with that glacier-cold calm that makes everyone else look unhinged.
“You’ve already made my morning too loud,” he says flatly.
He shoots me a glare.
Then one at Nate.
A look that promises consequences or, at minimum, a week of punitive silence.
He turns back to his coffee.
Nate looks ready to combust.
He stares at me.
Then at Dom.
Then at me again.
His brain is trying to process something. I can see the gears grinding.
“Wait,” Nate whispers, anger dissolving into shock. “You’re not blinking.”
No shit. Dominic never blinks. Ever.
“Oh my God… you knew.”
He points a trembling finger at Dom. “You KNEW it was her!”
Again, shocking no one.
Dominic—clearly done with humanity—grabs his mug in one hand and his laptop in the other. He stalks toward the doorway.
He pauses only once, without turning around.
“What?” he says dryly. “Didn’t recognize her without wings?”
Fucking Dominic and his nonexistent bedside manner.
He keeps walking, muttering under his breath—something that sounds very much like:
“…why the hell haven’t I kicked them both out yet…”
Then he disappears down the hall.
Which leaves me.
And Nate.
