Page 24 of Cops and Robbers

“Seriously?” she asked. “Is that how you’re so strong and fast? Were you born that way?”

“Slow down there, detective. Yes, I was born this way. We shift into the dragon and hunt Tattered Ones. I think you call them Archfiends.”

“You?” Her eyebrow lifted, and her eyes searched his for a moment. A smile gradually spread across her face. “A dragon shifter hunting an Archfiend? Oh, how funny. You know— because of the devil, the whole snakelike-horns-and-tails-thing.”

“I’m glad you find this amusing.”

She sobered. “No, something needed to kill Archfiends. It’s disgusting that Fallen wouldn’t just accept our punishment and instead would kill each other for power. Granted, our punishment is the literal worst when it’s impossible to collect enough feathers in one human lifespan to return to heaven. But that’s not an excuse. Archfiends are bad news for everyone. So our species met recently? I bet that was a weird encounter. Who was it? Would I know them?” Her tone deepened, filling with longing. “I don’t know many Fallen.”

She hasn’t met many Fallen? An arrow of sympathy pierced him as she continued rambling. He couldn’t imagine living such a lonely existence without knowing more of his kind.

“Him,” she shouted, finger raising into the air. “That’s why I recognized that weirdness coming off you. No wonder she had that man—dragon shifter—hanging around.”

“You’ve met one of us?”

She waved her hand at him dismissively. “I ran into a Fallen who had someone like you as her bodyguard.”

“And they didn’t bother telling you about us?” He only knew of two dragons that had encountered Fallen, but perhaps there were more.

“We’re not exactly on good terms, and I was stealing something from her when it came up.”

Of course you were. Again, the reminder that she was a criminal smacked him in the face. But there had to be a reason why. He didn’t look at her and see a thief—or even the cold and methodical Midnight. He saw someone misunderstood and wronged. “Why do you steal?”

Her gaze dropped to her plate and her throat worked. “Do you want the long or short story?”

The rawness in her voice cut into him and he said, “I want all of it.”

She tore at the edge of her paper plate. “When you can’t eat, there’s a constant pain in your gut that never goes away. A feverish sensation in your mind that demands to be fed. Shaking constantly, never feeling yourself. The very act of breathing makes you feel out of breath. And when you decide to go to sleep, you know you won’t wake up. I’ve been a beggar, and I’ve starved to death many times.”

“You’ve died before?” His chest squeezed as an ache built in his gut. He held his hand back from reaching across the table to grab hers.

“Maybe you don’t know that about us, Fallen. As part of our punishment, when we don’t collect all our feathers, we reincarnate after each human life. We’re also born into the same genetic family line. And mine. Well, mine never amounted to anything. I’ve been an orphan my entire existence on this earth either because I was kicked out onto the street or because my parents died when I was young.”

“Fuck.”

She chuckled, glancing up at him for the first time since she started. “That’s how I saw it. I used to crawl on raw hands and knees to catch rats in alleyways, but it was unsustainable. So I began stealing to survive. Once, a small piece of bread fell from the vendor’s table into a puddle. I picked it up and the authorities caught me for stealing. The jail I’d been sent to was in horrid condition. I would have died if she…that doesn’t matter. Someone helped me and we—I—got better at stealing. Really good. And it became a way for me to give to the people who were struggling.”

The wistful softness of her expression twisted his heart. His dragon stirred inside, feeling like a flickering flame. His inner compass became skewed. She was strong and brave—a woman forced to grow up so fast and still found a way to be playful. Someone going through her struggles was rare, but even rarer was someone who came out on top because of them. She was inspirational—someone who made him feel lighter under the burdens he carried and fought for. His muscles tightened as he leaned forward…someone help him. He wanted to kiss her. She fell toward him as if she did too.

And why shouldn’t I?

Because she could still be Midnight—tied up with Matsuda for some hellish reason—a murderer and a thief. Bowing midlean, he released a breath. “And now it’s become an illegal hobby, huh?”

A deep frown creased her lips, and she straightened, creating even more much-needed distance between them. His dragon pawed at his insides, making him restless with energy.

“Why did you…go inside me?” he asked, tapping his fingers against the counter.

“To find out if you were an honorable man. Souls don’t lie.” She spoke like someone who had trusted the wrong person in the past. Given her line of work, he wasn’t surprised.

“Why did you want to know if I was honorable?”

She shrugged, too evasive for comfort. “Why are you with the FBI?”

The bloody bodies of his comrades flashed in his mind. The ones he couldn’t save from Lucifer’s Bell. His stomach wrenched, sending a shooting pain up his abdomen. “Justice. It keeps me busy and sane.”

She stared at him, seeming to read something he didn’t think was in his expression. “There’s a way longer story there. Kind of unfair if you ask me.”

“Let’s stick to one downer for the evening.”