Page 121

He huffed. “Second,” he said, “my number will be in your phone by the time you get to work. Come by Lux Tower after your shift so I can get you security clearance.”

I opened my mouth. “Absolutely not. I am not walking into Lux Draven’s murder skyscraper like I am on a field trip.”

“Also,” he continued, talking right over me, “Kalon will be late for work.”

“Excuse me?” My jaw dropped. “What did you do to him?”

“Nothing,” he said, too casual. “I’m going to have a conversation with him. That’s all. Don’t worry your cute little face about it. He’ll be fine.”

He ran his hand down my arm, thumb leaving sparks in its wake. I tried not to show how much it affected me.

“Now get dressed,” he said. “Before Sam gathers an angry mob.”

Outside, Sam pounded on the door again and yelled something about brass knuckles and demon law.

I sighed.

Sam finally broke through. Not because he let her. Because I opened the door before she started recruiting the neighbors.

“Where is he?” she demanded, shoving past me like a tiny, feral hurricane.

“Good morning to you too,” I said.

She ignored me and did a sweep. Couch. Kitchen. Bathroom. Closet. Under the bed, like he was going to curl up with my shoebox of old horror DVDs.

He was gone. Of course he was. Not a single trace except for the wards chewing on the air and the ache in my body that said I hadn’t dreamed it.

Sam came back to the living room, breathing hard, ponytail frizzy.

Her eyes landed on the toy half under the ruined sofa. Her face went scarlet. “Oh my gods, you did. You actually . . .”

I dropped onto the couch and dragged my hands over my face. “I will throw myself out this window.”

She looked past me to the glass, squinting at the ground below like she was doing the math. “You’re on the ground floor. That won’t help.”

“Great.”

She planted herself in front of me, hands on her hips. “Okay, Liv. Repeat after me. We do not sleep with the scary masked stalker.”

I nodded solemnly. “We sleep with the extremely hot masked assassin who is gaga for me.”

Her mouth fell open.

I smiled. “Was that right?”

“Oh my gods, you like him,” she whispered.

My face betrayed me. Heat shot up my neck to my ears, and her eyes went wide like she was watching a fireworks show.

“I like that he doesn’t look at me like I’m nothing,” I said quietly. “Or broken. Or less.”

The words came out raw and a little unsure. Sam’s expression softened like someone had flipped a switch. She dropped onto the couch beside me and bumped her shoulder into mine.

“For the record,” she said, voice low, “you were never less. But I get why it felt that way.”

The knot in my chest loosened just a little.

“Thanks,” I said.