Page 26 of The Devil's Waltz

“Don’t worry about it,” I say as the toast pops up. I toss it onto a plate and smear the avocado over it before drizzling the top with olive oil. After I add the fried egg to each slice, I shake some red pepper flakes on top. It looks appetizing, but my stomach is so twisted in knots, I’ll have to force myself to eat at this point.

“Should I ask how things are going on your end?”

I pull out my French press from the cupboard and set it up to make coffee. “I’m going out with Camille and her friends tonight. It sounds casual, which doesn’t surprise me after her hurried exit a couple days ago.”

“I hope things progress from here. Let me know if you need anything before I take off. I’ll be around until tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t need anything,” I say in a level voice, pulling out my favorite roast and a mug.

“Hmm. I trust you’ll keep yourself fed while I’m gone and I won’t have to drag you out again when I return?”

I close my eyes as a muscle ticks in my jaw. “Blake—”

“Don’t,” he cuts in, using a sharp voice typically reserved for people he doesn’t enjoy speaking to. Even with his accent, it sounds cold. “If you don’t eat food like humans need to, you willdie. If you don’t feed like demons need to, you willalsodie. I know you know that, so smarten the fuck up. Respectfully.”

Lately, I’ve come to resent the part of me that requires hunting humans to survive. Demons are not immortal—half breeds even less so—however, they can for live centuries. If they feed regularly.

Many relish in the manipulation, in making humans experience their worst fears.

“I’ll take care of it,” I say in a voice that doesn’t invite argument, then add, “Thanks for your concern.”

Blake snorts. “Right.”

My eyes narrow slightly, irritation prickling along my spine. “Was there anything else?”

There’s a stretch of silence before he says, “You’re in a mood today. Better turn on the charm before your date.”

I bite back a sharp reply, though he’s not wrong. There’s a mix of unfamiliar sensations swirling around in my chest that I can’t seem to shake. It’s uncomfortable and impossible to ignore, and the more I try, the worse it seems to get.

“Alrighty then,” he says, realizing I’m not going to respond. “I have to get going. See you in a few days.”

I end the call and exhale a long sigh, setting my phone on the counter next to my untouched breakfast.

My mood lightens by the end of the day as I’m getting ready for dinner with Camille and her friends. I pick a black dress shirt and dark jeans, pairing it with black combat boots and my favorite leather jacket. Standing in front of my bathroom mirror, I run my hands through my hair, messing with the dark brown waves until they’re tousled enough to set with gel. After a light spray of cologne, I grab my wallet and keys off the dresser and head for the elevator.

Pulling up outside her apartment a few minutes early, I cut the engine and stride across the sidewalk and into the entryway. There’s a screen adjacent to another door in the main lobby, and I find her name on the resident list.

Tapping the call button, I wait as it rings a few times before an out-of-breath voice says, “I’ll be right down.”

“Take your time,” I say, my lips curling into a faint smile, as if she’s already standing in front of me. The simplest thing—the sound of her voice—melted away some of the unease in my gut from earlier, and the power of that is certainly not lost on me.

Five minutes later, the elevator slides open. Camille steps off looking downright angelic in a navy long sleeve blouse and black high-waisted pants. Her shoes have a small heel, putting her a bit closer to my height, and her hair falls in long waves. There’s a tinge of pink in her cheeks when she glides closer, smiling at me.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” I say back, matching her grin, and step closer to kiss her cheek, catching the slight hitch in her breath. There’s a part of me that enjoys, probably too much, how I affect her. “How are you?” I ask as we leave the building.

“I’m good. How was your day?”

I bite my tongue as I open the passenger door for her. “I spent it looking forward to this,” I say, in lieu of a real answer.

She pauses at the curb, tipping her head back to meet my gaze. “Me, too. After how I left your place the other day, I wasn’t sure you’d want to.” Her eyes flick between mine. “I’m glad you’re here.”

I tilt my head to the side, keeping my voice gentle as I say, “Try as hard as you can…” The corner of my mouth kicks up, and I dip my face so my lips are level with her ear, the monster in me vibrating at her quickening pulse, the hint of fear hiding beneath the surface. “You won’t scare me away, Camille.”

There’s a beat of silence before she turns her head and plants her mouth on mine.

Without hesitation, my hands drop to her hips, and I pull her against me, deepening the kiss as a soft growl of satisfaction rumbles in my throat.

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