When I open my eyes, my gaze lands on the cat again. It’s a tiny creature, barely more than a kitten. Its dark fur is matted and dirty, its eyes a brilliant shade of lavender that reminds me of Kallista’s.
That must be the damn reason I take a step forward, then another, until I’m right in front of the thing. It seems tense, ready to bolt at any sudden movement on my part.
I crouch down slowly, maintaining eye contact. I reach out and gently touch the little black furball. It flinches away initially but doesn’t run off. Satisfied he’s not going to bolt, I bend down and pick up the creature. I realize with a start that the tiny thing has a white patch of fur in the middle of its chest, shaped like a flower.
A daisy-shaped mark resembling the one adorning the current center of all my obsessions.
Well, fuck.
Not needing any more reasons to keep the annoyingly adorable thing, I start my walk again, the cat now cradled in my arms, somewhat content in its new location. My mind drifts back to Kallista, her shining eyes and unruly hair. The way she looks at me with this innocence that’s just...infuriating.
I glance down and mutter to the cat, who simply responds with a purr.
“Let’s get one thing straight. I’m not a savior.”
Chapter Nineteen
KNEAD-TO-KNOW
Idon’t have to wait long. Stark steps out the front door and I reach up to graze the zoom rune behind my ear. A fizzing current jumps through my nerves and the world snaps into focus—streetlights bleeding out, every blade of grass and crack in the concrete coming up sharp and bright in neon-edged night vision.
I take a step to follow him but stop short.
Is he… flustered?
That’s new.
The ancient bastard is running his hands through his hair, pacing and muttering. The perfect composure is gone. A crack in the armor. My pulse quickens—this is the kind of break I live for.
I touch behind my other ear to activate my enhanced hearing.
“...ridiculous...”
Stark drags a hand through his hair.
“...absolutely ridiculous.”
I frown.
The ancient bastard is pacing.
Pacing.
I’ve never seen him pace before.
“...should’ve strangled him...”
A pause.
“...fucking flowers and freckles...”
What the fuck?
Ah. It’s the dark-haired beauty, Kallie—as her human boy toy called her—who’s putting the big bad monster’s panties in a twist.
I snort but catch myself. I want to follow Stark tonight and making myself heard is not the way to get shit done.
Touching my mark on my left forearm, I activate my glamour. Except the purple shimmer and tingle that should follow don’t happen.
