“Her parents are the epitome of assholes,” Isa said. “Her father will all but ignore her, and her mother will ride her ass into the dust. I know it’s a lot to ask, but can you stick with her until she finds someplace else to stay?”
“I can do that.” Since Grayson was between jobs, it was an easy promise to make.
“Good. Iris…” There was a depth of grief in the way Des said that name. “Was a hell of a woman and the only decent member of Cass’s family. She’s the biggest reason Cass is who she is. Otherwise, she’d have ended up like Sofia.”
“Sofia?” Locke asked.
Isa’s nose wrinkled. “Her younger sister, aka the golden child. I’m sure she’ll be there too,” she said with an edge of mockery.
“Right.” There was a story there, but considering how tricky family dynamics could be, it was probably best to get the details from Cass. Speaking of… “You mind giving me Cass’s number?”
Des rattled it off, and Grayson entered it into his phone with the fleeting thought that this was not how he’d planned on getting Cass’s number. Once done, he realized he needed to add a couple more numbers to his phone. “Why don’t we exchange numbers so I can keep you in the loop, just in case?”
“Good idea.” Des rattled off his and Isa’s numbers.
Once Grayson had sent them texts so they would have his number, he turned to Locke. “Ready to head out? I need to grab my stuff and then gas up.”
Locke pushed off the bar and straightened. “Ready.” He shot Isa a look. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Her disdainful sniff followed them out.
Chapter 3
Cass
Today is going to suck.
Cass leaned against Grayson’s sedan, sipping a surprisingly good coffee, considering it came from a convenience store. She soaked in the early-morning sun as it crept along the low-lying mountains that trailed from Boulder City into Vegas. Out on Highway 93—which was no longer hampered by congestion, thanks to the newly installed Boulder City Bypass—traffic clipped along. She’d been grateful when Grayson had offered to stop. Not only was it a chance to stretch her legs, but it also meant she could put off facing her parents and the emotional blowout that would follow. A noxious mix of grief and something older and uglier twisted painfully in her gut, but she forced down another sip.
Maybe she would ask Grayson to take her to the funeral home first. Afterward, she could catch a rideshare to her parents’ place. That way, he wouldn’t be obligated to stick around. Thanks to their road-trip-sharing sessions, she figured he was the type who would make that kind of offer, and that wasn’t something she wanted to take advantage of, no matter how tempting.
A ding and whoosh floated through the air. She turned to see Grayson walk out of the store, a doughnut clenched in his teeth as he snapped a lid on a coffee cup. He caught her watching as he grabbed his doughnut and shot her a charming grin.
Being on the receiving end of it ignited a warm combination of attraction and appreciation that inched back the cold, deep press of sorrow that had settled since she’d answered the phone at work. During the hours-long car ride, that strangely hopeful feeling had gained strength, and despite the timing, she found she really liked him. When they first hit the road, they’d asked the typical getting-to-know-you questions, which morphed into lists of favorites before moving on to the more entertaining versions of two truths and a lie.
Then somewhere along the line, they meandered off into more personal conversational gambits that bumped between stories of the past, observations of the present, and wishes for the future. She learned that he worked with the Western Arcane Guild as a Key, and although he didn’t say much, she got the impression his skills with curse breaking were in high demand—so much so that Locke was nudging him to work with the Cordova Family. As one of the premier Arcane Families in Phoenix, the Cordovas had access to the best, so if they were offering to bring Grayson aboard, he had to be a top-tier mage.
When she asked if he was considering the offer, he gently brushed her off with a noncommittal “It’s something to think about.”
Though her curiosity was a pesky bitch, she allowed him to shift their conversation to swapping amusing anecdotes of slinging drinks. His tales predated his mage career when he worked the Vegas nightclub scene. She matched him story for story, with her vast collection earned from a variety of southwest venues from a time before she’d put bar owner on her résumé. Despite the initial reason for their car trip, it was one of the best first dates she’d ever had.
“I left the doors unlocked,” he said as he approached the car.
“It’s cool. I wasn’t in a rush to get back in.”
He stopped next to her, leaving a couple of inches between them as they enjoyed their coffee and watched the passing traffic. The next minute or so passed in relaxed quiet. As loath as she was to break it, there was no rest for the wicked.
“I was thinking…”
“Sounds dangerous,” he murmured.
She shot him a look and caught the amused curl of his lips. “It could be,” she teased. “You mind dropping me off at the funeral home?” Her voice cracked on that last bit.
He angled closer, his shoulder brushing hers. “I can do that,” he said gently.
Whether he intended it or not, she took comfort from the brief touch, leaning in a little when he didn’t move away. She scrounged up a small smile. “You don’t have to stick around. Especially if you’ve got things to do.”
She made the mistake of looking at him, and since he was maybe five or six inches taller than her five foot six, he was close enough that she could see the striations of gold that flared into a thin dark ring that bled into a tiger brown. Flustered, she looked back at the road, feeling heat wash under her skin.
