Page 12 of The Devil's Waltz

“And you’re in a position to decide where you want to go?”

I pause.Where is she going with this?Instead of answering, I say, “I thought you didn’t want to talk about the organization.” I force a teasing tone, pairing it with a smirk.

Her eyes meet mine again. “You’re right,” she says. “Let’s talk about something else.”

I lose track of time as we chat about refreshingly mundane things like books we’ve enjoyed and places we’ve traveled. When we reach the point in the conversation where it feels natural, I ask a question I already know the answer to. “Do you have any siblings?”

Any remnant of a smile vanishes from her lips. “I, um, no. I did…a sister. A demon killed her five years ago.”

I lean forward, lowering my voice as I rest my hand on her knee. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

She swallows visibly, and her eyes drift to where my fingers are still touching her. “I’m surprised you didn’t know. It’s fairly well known in the American hunter community.”

“I haven’t been back in the States long,” I lie without a second thought.

Camille nods and takes another drink. “Do you have any siblings?”

I pull my hand back. “I don’t, though I always wanted them. Being an only child comes with the weight of some heavy expectations.”

“I think I understand that weight.”

“I have no doubt that you do.” The expectations Camille and I face couldn’t be more different, but we share the fact they exist.

As the café gets busier with the afternoon rush of tourists and locals alike, we finish our drinks and croissants before heading for the door.

“I’m glad you suggested this place,” Camille says as we walk through the crowded market, brushing shoulders every few steps.

I glance sideways at her. “You know what that means, right?”

“Uh, that you have good taste?” she guesses with little conviction.

The corner of my mouth kicks up. “Undoubtedly. But that’s not what I meant. It’s up to you to pick where we go for our next date.”

Her lips twist into a smile that mirrors mine. “So, this was a date?”

“If you want it to be,” I say. “I certainly do.”

Her cheeks flush as we near the end of a row of shop stands and shift to the side so the hordes of people can still move around us. “Yeah, I do, too.”

“Good.” The scent of fresh flowers wafts through the air as we pass a florist stand, and I stop, selecting a small bundle of fuchsia orchids. I pay the shop owner before turning to Camille and holding it out to her. “Since we’ve established this was a date,” I offer, chuckling at her surprised expression.

She takes the arrangement from me, the shock in her features morphing into a brilliant smile. Her eyes glitter as she lifts the flowers to her nose to smell them. “They’re beautiful,” she murmurs, glancing up to meet my gaze. “Thank you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” I say as we keep walking until we reach one of the market entrances. I shift to stand in front of her. “Can I drive you home?”

“That’s okay. I’m parked a few streets over, but thanks.” Her eyes drop to my mouth, and anxious energy pours off her in waves.

I can’t quite tell if she’s worried I’ll kiss her or worried I won’t.

Before she can spiral any deeper, I step in, wrapping my hand around her upper arm, and dip my face to kiss her cheek. Her breath catches when my lips brush her skin, and it takes every ounce of control I have not to steal her mouth with mine. Today went well. I don’t want to come on too strong and scare her off. More than that, I don’twantto rush this. I want to take my time with her.

“It was good to see you, Camille.” I step back, letting my arm fall to my side. “Text me when you get home safe.”

Her heart is a heavy drumbeat as she nods. “You, too.”

Once she’s gone, I walk down the cobblestone street to where I parked my Camaro. I pull my phone out and find a series of texts from Blake.

Are you coming home soon?

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