Page 121 of Quiet Burn

“Thanks, Zav,” I murmur. “But Oriel’s still right; we have an even number of people and everything should be done in pairs or higher. My experience is that if someone wants to harm you, they don’t need very long or even a lot of secrecy.”

Xerxes nods at me. “Okay. Pairs or more when we’re circulating to gather intel. We can discuss it with Jas and Slash when they switch places with Oriel and Salem. But we should probably talk about how we’re going to play our presence from a social engineering standpoint.”

That makes me pause because it’s obviouslynotmy forte. “Um, I’m not the best person to do more than throw out suggestions from movies or books. You all know how introverted I became after the thing.”

I wish I could use the word; I really do. But I’ve never been able to stay calm afterward and I’m not starting now.

“This part isn’t the prince or Slash’s area of expertise, either. They can play along with shit and be smooth with diplomacy—more Jasper than Slash—but they are both reticent to connect to people, too.” Anton sighs, looking to his lover for help. “What’s our cover going to be?”

“Emissaries.” Xerxes grins. “Jasper can simply be himself and state like a pompous ass that his father sent him as his representative. Someone will check with the Geminis and denying us entry would trip a red flag with the King, so they’ll let us in. He can be impatient and demanding, neither of which are a stretch. Slash can be hulking and intimidating. It will get us in with little effort.”

“He’s right.”

I blink as Slash and the prince come back faster than X and I did. The shark shifter is smirking as he confirms X’s plan, his stern face handsome when he’s being just the tiniest bit defiant to his leader. “No duh, big guy.”

“Oriel, Salem, get moving,” Jasper barks as he strides over to us. “I assume your jabs are in service of coming up with our plan to infiltrate?”

Xerxes winks at him. “Why, of course, my Prince. We’re working hard to make use of the skills we bring to the table.”

“For fuck’s sake,” the dragon grumbles as he looks around. Once his eyes light on a chair, he glares at the rest of us for a second, then he heads for it. “Gather ‘round. I want to hear what our demonic butterflies think we should do to survive this bullshit.”

It’s almost like he just admitted he can’t do something—but that can’t be, right?

By the timeGuillermo and Laurel finish measuring the guys, I’m feeling hungry and antsy. The shop is luxurious, but my stress about the plan X came up with is making my veins tickle with worry. Dottie is sitting on my lap, her tiny body pressed against my stomach as I stroke her head. My knee starts jiggling in my cross-legged pose and I hear a sigh from across the circle. I guess my tics are becoming more noticeable and the impatient prince has noticed.

Well, fuck him and his sociopathic level of calm despite the danger we’re going to face.

“Someone take the shrimp out to grab food or something. There’s plenty of places out there; one has to be open.”

I open my mouth to protest being treated like a naughty child, but Oriel leaps to his feet quickly and holds out his hand. I suppose I could use some time away from this tense waiting room with someone who makes me feel calm. I’d prefer to fight the prince whenever possible, but doing so this time feels stupid. I’m a lot of things, but dumb isn’t one of them.

“Okay.” I take the dark haired demon’s hand, making sure I don’t smoosh Dottie as I get up. Looking down at her apologetically, I murmur, “You’ll have to go in the bag for now. I think you can stay out at the party ‘cause it won’t have humans to gawk. For now, though, in you go.”

Luckily, the kinkajou is pretty complacent when it comes to me, so she lets me slide her into my bag carefully. Once I’m ready, I nod at O. He grins as he cocks his head to the door. “Time to explore a bit. We might not find a lot but it will get some of that nervous energy out of your system, KK.”

I follow Oriel out the door of the boutique, instantly relieved when I get a breath of fresh air. I’m not claustrophobic, per se, but I feel crowded when my anxiety builds up alongside anticipation. Being in the open air is probablymorerisky than staying inside, but I needed the space. Somehow, dickface Jasper realized it before I did, and that really pisses me off.

“Stop worrying about Prince Prickface,” Oriel says as he points towards the sidewalk heading to the right. “I know you’re obsessing because you get this little wrinkle between youreyebrows whenever Jasper’s done something to get your dander up.”

My scowl is petulant; I can’t help it. “How do you even know that phrase?”

“Some grumpy kid has been making us all learn about human movies. I’m sure I picked it up from there. What’s a dander, anyway?” His expression is so earnest that I laugh softly, and when he reaches out his arm around me, I don’t shrink away.

Progress comes in millimeters and centimeters, but it’s still progress.

“Uh, it’s like skin flakes that shed on animals.”

Oriel recoils, giving me a disbelieving look. “Why the hell is there a phrase about getting your dead skin flakes up when you're mad? Humans are so fucking bizarre, man.”

Chuckling, I shrug as he distracts me and we start walking past the storefronts to see if anything is open. “Don’t ask me; I’m not a linguist. It’s just an idiom that means getting pissy. I don’t have the entire history of human shit in my head, O.”

“Well, it’s weird.” He pauses for a moment, looking at the window of an ice cream shop wistfully. “Too bad this place is closed. I’m dying to taste what it’s like up here.”

“Why don’t you guys come up here more often? I mean, you all say you’re soooo much older than me and that you and demons age differently, so I assume that means like centuries have passed up here while you grew up. Why not drop in every once in a while?”

Oriel sighs and shrugs. “Honestly? There’s too fucking much going on up hereall the time. The Society isn’t fond of demonsand neither are most supernaturals. We stick to Hell other than the normal worker bees who come up here to do their thing and the reps the royals send across the globe to keep their eyes on shit. Why get involved in this mess when we don’t have to?”

I grin a bit. “In other words, we’re fat and happy in our little bubble, so whatever happens to everyone else is not our business? How very privileged of the demon world.”

---