“Ah, yes. Andwhyam I the better lover, shadow man?”
Iain puts his axe back into whatever magical pocket he pulled it from and leans over the table.
Ezra exhales through his teeth, each word peeled from his soul with a blade. “Because you taught me how to fuck.”
The eddies physically recoil at the unholy curse he just uttered. One slaps backward, bowled over by the sheer force of Ezra’s mortification.
Iain claps Ezra on the back, voice practically cooing. “That’s my boy.”
The eddies writhe in visceral horror. Eddy the fifth slaps a tendril to its nonexistent forehead, then dramatically slides off Ezra’s arm, clearly submitting itself for execution by cringe tribunal.
Louie falls off her chair from laughing so hard, and as much as I want to be a supportive girlfriend, I’m struggling to hold back my snorts of amusement.
“Wait,” I say, my voice wavering with amusement. “Youtaught Ezra how to fuck? Like all of it?”
“Aye. Took a lot of patience, too. He was hopeless at first. He was a taker, not a giver. But we fixed that, didn’t we, Ez?”
“I swear to the fucking cosmos …” Ezra mutters, half to himself, half to the ancient dark that clearly stopped listening a long time ago.
“Damn,” I say, tilting my head, as if I’m actually considering it. “I gotta hand it to you, Iain … you did good.”
Ezra’s shadows convulse, one of them actually slapping the air in an absolutely scandalized display of rage.
“Do not encourage him, Aurora,” Ezra whispers before turning on Iain. He drags both hands down his face, exhausted. “Can we fucking move on now that you’ve finished swinging around your metaphorical dick?”
His shadows coil aggressively, riled by his frustration. “Stars save me, you’re a three-thousand-year-old child.”
“Absolutely, Ezra,” Iain says with the biggest shit-eating grin I’ve ever seen.
Iain drops back into his chair, his gaze sliding to Louie, who is still reeling from his exchange with Ezra.
“Look at you, lass. Shook just thinkin’ about it.”
His grin spreads, slow and wolfish. “I’d ruin you so good, wee hound.”
Louie’s eyes flash, her fangs bared. “I will fucking gut you.”
Iain leans back, hands behind his head. “Aye, but you’d scream my name doing it.”
Ezra finally snaps.
“Can we stop the murder-flirting and ACTUALLY DO SOMETHING?”
He slams his fists onto the table, and one of his shadows slaps down beside them—hard.
Iain side-eyes it but wisely says nothing, moving his hands in a circular motion to produce a steaming mug of tea that reads, “LBI—Lorewood Booby Inspector.”
Classy.
“Where do we start?” Iain asks.
Ezra rests his forearms on the table, calm as ever. “Payment. How much this time?”
Iain waves his hand dismissively, taking a slow sip of his tea. “Don’t worry about it, Ez. It won’t cost you money this time.”
“Christ, Iain. You’re exhausting,” Ezra mumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Whatwillit cost me, then?”
Iain tilts his head toward me, his voice lazy. “It’ll cost her.”
