Very interesting. Was he such a good soldier that he’d follow any orders? Or was this a more personal reaction to Storm in particular? He wanted to find out.
Storm did love to see a strong man yield. How far would Nathan let him push?
In the cab of the truck, Nathan’s scent filled the air, like teak wood and leather and the faint, honey-sweet scent of his blood. He fought the urge to reach over and pull him across the middle seat.
“Brave of you to get into the vehicle with a demon,” Storm teased as he carefully backed out of Nathan’s driveway, mindful of where the fence ended and the mailbox was.
“I’m in no danger with you,” he said confidently.
Storm glanced over at him. “How do you know?”
He frowned slightly, like he hadn’t considered it until now. “I don’t know. Just a feeling, I guess.”
It didn’t take long to find a random coffee shop with a drive-thru. Nathan was staring listlessly out his window, so Storm reached over and fit his palm over his knee, giving it a shake and delighting in the way the denim pulled taut across his leg.
Nathan startled at the touch. “Yes? What?”
“What do you want?”
“You don’t have to—” At Storm’s resolute look, he went quiet. Those slate gray eyes went soft and vulnerable, like cloud fluff.
“What do you want?” he asked again.
“Just a… black coffee, I guess.”
That was what he’d had at their first meeting, too, but Storm didn’t recall him drinking much of it. Still, he placed the order, and then they were back out on the road, the scent of coffee mingling with Nathan’s mouthwatering scent.
“No coffee for you?” Nathan asked, eyeing him.
“Not right now.”
He hummed, going quiet.
Nathan wasn’t much of a talker, but that was fine. The silence between them was companionable, and Storm liked the quiet. His job at In Extremis had involved standing around for ten hours of it, after all. Always apart from the action, in the dark and the silence outside the chaos.
When they pulled into the parking lot of the Rink, the others’ cars were already there. He parked beside Malachi’s vintage Mustang and glanced over.
Nathan was frozen with his cup halfway to his lips, his eyes on the Rink—which, admittedly, had seen better days. The metal siding was dented in places, dirty and rusted. Weeds grew up around the edges and through cracks in the pavement, although they’d at least filled in the holes with gravel at some point. The only sign of life were the cars in the lot and the light that glowed through the glass door. Not for the first time, he wondered if they should replace the glass with something more durable. Enchanted metal, maybe. Something to keep out the unseemlies—human and demon alike.
“Looks nice, huh?” He fought to keep his expression serious.
Nathan seemed to be trying to lighten his expression into something that passed for approval. “It’s, uh—yeah, it’s nice.”
Storm sniggered. “It’s okay, I won’t tell them it’s a hovel if you won’t. They’re kind of protective of the place.”
“Ofthisplace?” he exclaimed, the most animated Storm had seen him yet.
He laughed, throwing his head back with it, and he noticed the way Nathan’s eyes brightened at the sound. “Yeah. Baby’s first secret base, y’know?”
Nathan chuckled. “Right.”
He gestured to the building. “Come on. Looks like they’re all waiting inside. Let’s go.”
Nathan nodded, slipping from the truck. Storm paused just long enough to check the weight in the coffee cup. Still mostly full, as he’d suspected. Why order something he didn’t like?
Storm left it. If Nathan didn’t want it, that was his choice. He waited for Storm in front of the truck, hugging his laptop to his chest and looking uncertain about how to proceed. Anxiety cut deep lines in his radiant face.
“You good?” Storm asked as he locked the truck.
