While the othersbranched off to start training, Storm wandered over to the secondhand sofa they bought for the meeting area and sat down, his phone in one hand and a beer in the other. While the humans swung their swords and their demon lovers ogled them, Storm sat in the back of the room, making first contact with the new potential trouble in their lives.
Ira gave me your phone number. I will be your point of contact. You can call me Storm.
There. Nice and forthright. It got his point across. He wasn’t doing this to make friends, so he didn’t really care if he seemed abrasive.
Storm. Hi. I’m Nathan. I’m familiar with the others, but not you. Are you a halfling?
The moment of truth. Would Nathan accept him or balk?
I am. They’re all understandably wary of dealing with a paladin, so I volunteered.
That was kind of you. I mean you no harm. All of you.
Well, damn. He’d expected at least a little resistance. Maybe this guy wasn’t as bad as Talon wanted to believe. Of course, maybe Nathan was lying. It would be easy to seem accepting over text. That didn’t make him trustworthy.
As much as they’d like to believe that, I’ll be a little harder to convince.
Then it’s good they chose you. There are still plenty of paladins who would like to target you guys. I’m trying to show them there’s a better way.
It was easy to say pretty words when they weren’t face-to-face. Storm felt he could get a better read on him in-person. He knew a liar when he saw one. Even the best ones had tells.
Why don’t we meet?
The three little dots bounced for a moment, and then stopped. They appeared again—and disappeared.
“Geez, just spit it out.”
Yes, that would be fine. Tomorrow at noon? I’m on patrol rn.
Ah, Storm was surprised he was texting him back at all, then. Weren’t patrols supposed to be dangerous?
Yeah, just let me know where, and I’ll meet you.
Noon wasn’t his favorite time of day, and he suspected the human had chosen it on purpose to have him wrong-footed during the meeting. That was fine. Two could play that game.
Chapter3
Nathan
Perhaps it was meanto choose noon for a meeting, Nathan considered as he strode into the coffee shop and ordered a black coffee. But nobody said he had to be particularly accommodating. He didn’t know this halfling. This wasn’t even one of the halflings that the defectors were involved with, as far as he knew. He’d hoped his point of contact would be Ira. They’d parted on good terms when Ira left the guild. He’d even contacted Nathan to tell him that he’d left, and he was the one Nathan had called about the proposal for the truce. So it was a surprise to get a text from a halfling who said Nathan would have to go through him from now on. Maybe he should be as wary of the halfling as the halfling was of him.
Actually, he wasn’t sure that was fair. He had the whole Paladin Guild at his back. What did the defectors and their demons have? A club full of deviants and each other, he supposed. At least they hadn’t actively tried to kill anyone. Nathan couldn’t say the same for the guild. Strange that he was the less trustworthy one in this scenario, and the demon had the moral high ground.
With his coffee in hand, he claimed a sun-warmed booth by the window, facing the door. He took a sip of his coffee and grimaced. Too bitter, but he didn’t want to spend money on frivolous things when he should be focusing on the meeting he was about to take part in.
At exactly ten minutes after twelve, the door swung open and admitted the tallest, broadest, most muscled man Nathan had ever seen. Wearing a leather jacket and gleaming silver aviators, his hair was pale as snow. He strode to the counter and gruffly ordered a drink in a quiet, deep tone. The barista eyed him none too subtly, and Nathan couldn’t help doing the same. His jeans hugged his thick thighs and ass.
Nathan had never considered himself gay—or even bisexual. He’d only ever dated women, and what few relationships he’d tried to have had been like a firework, hot and exciting at first but always ending in disappointment. But he couldn’t deny that he was attracted. He was very,veryattracted. So attracted, in fact, that he turned away, rubbing the back of his neck and staring out the window at nothing so he wouldn’t be caught staring at the pale-hairedstatue of perfectionstanding by the counter.
He was here for business. That man would probably punch him in the face if he caught him staring, anyway.
A figure swooped into the booth across from him. He turned his head—and his words died in his throat. It was him, the pale-haired man. He tugged his aviators down his nose just slightly, allowing Nathan to see crimson irises.
Oh, God, he’s a demon.
Embarrassment crawled up his neck, and he ducked his head. He could not be attracted to this demon. Absolutely not.
“Storm, I take it?”
