Lisa shot her a dry look.“If by enjoy, you mean tolerate while praying he finds someone else, then yes, I’m having a wonderful time.And how many times do I have to tell you if it’s not yours then don’t touch it?”
Syndra laughed, light and unbothered.“You could do worse.He’s handsome, human, and not at all terrifying.Which, for you, might be a nice change.As for the latter, keep telling me and maybe we will find out.”
“I’m not interested in nice,” Lisa said before she could stop herself.The words came out sharper than intended.She busied her hands, sealing a paper pouch of tea.“I’m interested in peace.”
Syndra’s teasing softened, her voice dropping low.“Peace doesn’t always mean solitude, you know.”
Lisa looked at her, lips quirking faintly.“You should embroider that on a pillow.”
Syndra suddenly turned and waved over her shoulder.“Going to sew it now.Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon to get the scoop on that—and I don’t mean ice cream.”
Lisa frowned.“The scoop on wha?—”
The bell chimed again.
She turned, and froze.
Rezer stood just inside the doorway, one shoulder leaning against the frame, his dark hair catching the morning light.His expression was calm, unreadable, but his eyes, those strange, deep eyes, were fixed entirely on her.
Lisa’s breath caught.The paper pouch of tea crinkled in her hands.
“Morning,” Rezer said, voice low and smooth.“Told you I’d see you soon.”
Rezer couldn’t takehis eyes off of her.The way her skin flushed as she stared at him, and he could hear her heart beat picking up its pace.
“I didn’t think you meant soon, soon,” Lisa said, voice steady, though her hands betrayed her.The tea pouch in her grasp crinkled softly.
Rezer’s mouth curved.“When I said soon, I meant it in the normal meaning of the word.So, the opposite of later.”He stepped fully inside, letting the door close behind him.The small bell above it chimed again, too cheerful for the kind of energy that had just entered the room.
Enigma smelled of herbs and warmth and something faintly sweet—like honey steeped in sunlight.Shelves lined the walls, cluttered with glass jars, candles, and stones that caught the light.It should’ve felt ordinary, mortal.But nothing about the woman in front of him did.
Lisa set the tea bag down carefully, as if one wrong move might startle whatever this moment was becoming.Her hair was pulled up in a loose knot, a few silver-blonde curls framing her face.The strands caught the morning light, shining like strands of silk.There was no glamour about her, no effort to impress, and yet Rezer found himself unable to look anywhere else.
“You’re a hard woman to get a meeting with,” he said.
She crossed her arms, the motion subtle but defensive.“That’s because I’m booked up for the next few decades.”
He smiled again, faintly.“But, you read the cards.”It wasn’t a question.He’d watched her read them.
With a small lift of one shoulder she said, “You took the time to write them, I thought it rude not to.”
His lips curved up even higher as he added, “But you read them more than once.”
She didn’t respond.
A beat passed, quiet but weighted.Her brown eyes held his steadily, but there was something behind them—a flicker of awareness she probably couldn’t name.Something in him answered it, a tug low in his chest that had no business existing.
He broke eye contact first, scanning the shop instead.“Nice place.Smells like the forest in early afternoon, when the sun is warming the plants, causing their scents to be the strongest.”
Lisa tilted her head.“That’s oddly poetic and specific for someone who writes obscure sounding threats on stationery.”
His grin came unbidden.“It wasn’t a threat.More of a promise.”
“I see.”She turned to move behind the counter, busying herself with the kettle.“And this visit is that promise fulfilled?”
“I suppose.”His gaze followed the line of her shoulders, the easy grace in her movements.“I got tired of waiting for an invitation.”
She didn’t look at him.“Patience isn’t your strong suit.”
