“So.” Zayn nudged her shoulder with his, a smirk on his handsome face. “Should I be scared and run for the hills that an angel looks like he wants me drawn and quartered?”
“What?” That shook her out of her numbness. She tried not to look at Lore behind her, but with Zayn’s teasing comment, she glanced back, and her gaze clashed with his.
Hastily, she faced Zayn, her chest compressing. “No, that’s just how he is.”
“Mmm…” Zayn murmured noncommittally, putting an arm around her shoulders again. “So, what now?”
“I have to return to the mansion. The will’s being read this afternoon, and there’s the wake.”
“Okay. Let’s get out of here, then.” They made their way to the front, bypassing somber gravestones. “So, you’ll come by Satire later?”
“I don’t know.” She smoothed back her hair only to realize she’d put it in a bun. “Kas is still out here.”
“And we’ll be with you. And your angel.”
He isn’t mine.
“He won’t have the chance to get near her.” Lore moved from behind to walk alongside her, causing every nerve ending to flare.
Saia, in front of her, glanced back. “He wouldn’t dare, not with Riley and the rest of my brothers around.”
Riley’s gaze settled briefly on Lore. He inclined his head.
Lore gave a stiff chin dip.
Guess angels and demons would always be at loggerheads.
“Great then.” Zayn hugged her. “I’ll see you at Satire.” He kissed her cheek and strolled off.
“Let’s go,” Lore said, tone flat. He stood there like a stone statue.
Unable to deal with whatever crawled up his craw, she said, “My grandmother lived at?—”
“I know.” He led the way back to the taller vault that gave them privacy from the departing guests.
Right. Why ask her? He seemed to go to Google for everything.
A few minutes later, they reformed beneath the shadows of an enormous oak tree in the sprawling garden of Nan’s mansion in the Garden District.
Inhaling deeply, Nia instantly regretted it when his familiar scent of the great outdoors with a hint of citrus filled her lungs.
She stepped away, refusing to look into his hypnotic, otherworldly eyes that made her painfully aware of the vast divide between them. And yet, she couldn’t be angry with him. As long as he didn’t touch her or look at her inthatway, she would be okay and could move past her attraction to him.
She studied the Romanesque Revival mansion with its exquisite blue sandstone exterior and many arches running along the terraced yard. It felt more like a historical museum than a home.
Memories she rarely allowed free flooded her…of the haunting nightmares after her parents’ death and being sent back to bed without so much as a hug or soothing word. She’d curled up into a ball in the corner of her massive room, petrified of the darkness, of red eyes watching her…
Her ability to see demons and the car crash always merged into one big nightmare.
Shutting out the past, she crossed the trimmed lawn, Lore a quiet presence at her side.
Her boot heels clicked on the tiled steps as Nia made her way to the enormous arched front door. She pressed the doorbell and, out of habit, straightened her spine as the heavy wooden panel opened, then reminded herself that Nan was gone.
Bennett, the butler, stood there, tall, lean, and as pale as newly fallen snow.
“Ms. Nia.” He dipped his head, his blue eyes somber, the only sign of sadness for his mistress.
In his own way, he’d been kind to a grieving child, bringing her milk and cookies at night when she first moved into the mansion.
