If my gaze were an arrow, it would be through his head already.
With my sweetest smile, I bid my florist a good day.
When we reached the outside, I snatched my box back. “Don’t ever do that again unless you want arsenic in your whiskey,” I seethed.
He could humiliate me all he wanted in private, but doing so in public was playing with dynamite.
“Oh? I’d love to see you try.” He lowered his voice. “How would you manage that, my dear shadow?”
With a saccharine grin, I stood on my toes to whisper against his ear. “You’ll let me do it. You’ll beg me to, because I know that you can’t bear to stay away.Isn’t that right?”
He stared momentarily. “Perhaps.” He cocked his head at me. “Let me at least hail a coach for you. Can’t have you overexerting yourself likelast night.”
My expression returned to its typical stoicism, and I took mytime studying his expression. Finally, I backed down and took a step back.
He took that as a truce and waved down a passing coachman.
The Creature’s intentions were lost on me. Considering what happened last night, it was all too playful, too friendly. I noticed his gaze lingering on my neck. Despite his words about my own misery when I saw him, he seemed disappointed that he was unable to see his exploits that tainted my skin. I would go as far as to say he was irritated.
He helped me into the cab with my hand in his, leaning down to it in what I thought would be a kiss. His fangs snapped forward and moved to bite a finger.
I snapped my hand away. “You are afiend,” I hissed, yanking the cab door closed.
“Only for you.” He shrugged.
“That’s a lie, Creature. You’realwaysa fiend.”
The cab jolted forward, and his silhouette disappeared as we passed.
11
THE CREATURE
Iwas starting to think she lived part-time in that shop of hers. I thought she would have left by now. It was three hours and fifty-two minutes past closing, and I had yet to see her resurface from her den. Each day she stayed longer. Sometimes I pulled up a chair at the closed café across the street while I waited to escort her home.
This is taking too long.
I stood from my seat, about to pay her a visit through the shop’s back door, when I saw her emerge from her cave.
There you are.
The keys jangled between her fingers as she locked up, giving the door a tug for reassurance.
I began to walk down the street, except she went the wrong way.
When I turned around, she was walking in the opposite direction.
That is not the way to your house, little shadow.
Walking faster to catch up, I followed behind on theother side of the street. She had a pad of paper in her hand, head down looking at the paper as she weaved through the streets. I began to worry, since she never strayed so far from her routine. I could count the locations she frequented the most on a single hand with digits to spare. Not once had I ever seen her walk this way.
It must have been at least thirty minutes of foot travel just to see her standing idly outside my home.
She was like a tiny figurine before the large, stately manor. It could be a museum with its size paired with the number of things I had collected throughout the ages.
She broke from her frozen state to write something down.
What are you planning, minx?
