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“Also, I’m holding you to your word. Tonight, you’re mine.”
Fuck. Why did that make me so excited?
He cracked the door, checked the hall like this was some tactical operation instead of the back of a coffee shop, then slipped out with that soundless, shadow-sliding grace.
By the time I counted to ten and followed, he was gone.
Kalon sat on an overturned milk crate near the prep sink, drinking water with both hands. His blond hair fell over his forehead, and his face had gone pale enough to make his eyes look too bright.
Sam stood over him with a broom.
Mandi stood beside them, holding her muffin in a napkin. She looked up at me, then at the muffin, then at the walk-in, and slowly set the muffin down, scooting it away from herself with a stir stick.
Vale waited near the back door in his perfect suit, expression calm like none of this had personally inconvenienced him. He held the door open for Murder Boy.
Kalon looked up at me and gave a weak smile. “For the record, I vote we never do that again.”
My eyes burned. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “You told me to leave. I didn’t listen. That part is on me.” He took another sip of water, then grimaced. “The almost dying part? Less fun.”
Sam rounded on me. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“No lying.”
“I’m okay enough.”
Out front, a customer called, “Hello?”
Sam looked at me. I looked at Kalon. Kalon looked at the broom. Mandi sighed. “I’ll get the register.”
“No, I’ve got it,” I said, pushing past all of them.
Sam’s brows shot up. “Liv.”
“I need normal for five minutes.”
I stepped out from the back, apron crooked, hair escaping its tie, mouth still swollen, body still humming. A line of customers waited at the counter. They had no idea their powerless barista had almost eaten a Deathdrinker in the walk-in.
“Good morning,” I said. “What can I get you?”
Chapter 20
Lux
I made it half a block from the coffee shop before my body decided it had tolerated enough of my arrogance for one morning.
My knee hit the sidewalk hard enough to crack the concrete. Nightmares snapped out around me on instinct, black and sharp, spilling over the pavement. A woman carrying a paper bag stopped dead in her tracks. A demon in a gray suit took one look at the dark curling around my boots and remembered somewhere better to be. Smart. Other pedestrians? Not so smart. They turned and whispered my name. Lux Draven is vulnerable.
Vale moved fast. One second, he was beside me, perfect suit, perfect posture, pretending we were two assholes out for a walk. The next, he had a hand under my arm and the other inside his coat. Knife, gun, ward trigger. He had several answers to any given problem, most of them illegal. His body angled between me and the onlooking crowd.
“Attack?” he asked.
“No.”
His eyes cut to the rooftops. “Sniper?”
