Page 45 of All Your Bloody Lies

Did I just admit that to myself? Pfft.

Finally, the elderly woman makes her purchase, and I quickly swipe my card, slip the shirt on, and head to the diner, conveniently connected to the small store by a hallway.

The diner isn’t crowded; a few patrons are sitting at the bar, while nearly every booth is vacant. When I scan the room and don’t spot Xeraphine, my shoulders tense up. I glance outside, checking to make sure my vehicle is still parked, which it is, thank Belial himself.

“Shit, Xera—”

“Yes?” her voice holds an unusual gentleness, catching me off guard. When I turn, she’s there, eyebrows furrowed, looking up at me. The perpetual frown on her cherry lips deepen as she tilts her head. “I had to use the restroom, is that okay with you?”

I let out a heavy sigh through my nose, trying to compose myself. “Yes, I thought you were going to run again.”

She chews on her bottom lip, shaking her head without a word. Surprising, no retort? As she brushes past me and settles into a booth, I follow suit.

Standing at the edge of the table, I jest, “Would you like to stare into my eyes longingly, or have my arm around you while we eat?”

Placing her hands on the table, she slowly meets my gaze. “Whatever you want.”

“Well,” I slide in beside her, wrapping my arm around her, “that was a mistake.” Almost instantly, she tenses, attempting to squirm away.

I cup her face, directing her to look at me. Growling, I say softly but with a commanding nature, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” she sneers. “What’s with you? Can’t we just eat and get back on the road?”

I don’t want to fight, not here. Her and I could get into an argument that will end in her bent over this table and I don’t give a fuck who’s watching, I’ll take her ass right here without a secondthought. She’s perfectly available for me too, no panties or bra. All I would have to do is tear off that single piece of fabric.

“Stop imagining fucking me here, Kai!” she whisper-shouts.

“Then let’s be civil, hmm? Tell me what’s wrong, and I’ll release you and sit on the other side.” I lean down toward her as she hesitates. My lips brush against her cheek while my fingers glide up her thigh. “Unless this is what you want. Then, keep silent and I’ll stay right here.”

A frustrated groan comes from her chest, “You shoved me earlier, why?”

That... was not what I was expecting. “You pissed me off,” I answer honestly.

“Why? What did I do differently that time, for you to be so pissed?” Okay, now I’m confused. She sounds... upset.

“I’m sorry,” and I mean it, because holy shit, her entire presence has shifted, and I swear I’m looking at a normal girl. Someone with feelings other than hatred. “I didn’t mean—”

I watch as her lip quivers.

Oh fuck, is she going to cry?

“Xera, Gods, are you really upset?” She turns her head so quickly from me, I’m stunned into being immobile. What the fuck do I do?

It was at that moment, her shoulders jump, and a laugh bubbles from her lips. One of her hands comes up, trying to stifle it, and I release the breath stuck in my chest.

“Fuck you,” I say as I pull my arm from around her and slip from the booth. The way she can shift her emotions so convincingly is impressive. I truly thought she was upset.

I slide into the booth opposite her, my expression etched with a scowl. But that fleeting discontent melts away in an instant. Her laughter, genuine and unbridled, makes my breath catch in my throat. Observing a demon in their true form is one thing, but witnessing the vulnerable moments, those glimpses between the horns, is an entirely different revelation. It’s the part of them they vehemently shield from the world, the piece they refuse to unveil to anyone. And she gave it to me.

“Dumb ass,” she quips, “as though you think you shoving me would make me cry. Oh my Gods.”

I emit a soft huff accompanied by a quirked smile. “Yeah, right.”

She’s bringing herself down from her fit of laughter, though I hope she keeps going. I know I’ll rarely get to see that, so I make sure to tuck that safely in my memory to not forget.

“Nothing is wrong, I’m hungry,” she says, leaning back and crossing her arms under her chest, looking beyond me trying to catch the waiter’s attention.

She’s lying, but I’m going to wait until she eats to pressure her into telling me. I’m also going to tell her she had a nightmare. I don’t think she’s slept with anyone overnight, and I wonder if she’s aware she has them.

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