Page 75 of The Devil's Waltz

He also orders me a chocolate milkshake.

My stomach feels weirdly fluttery, thinking that he remembered from when we were younger. “Thanks for this,” I say in a soft voice as we leave the building and I find myself wondering how much simpler my life would be if I hadn’t met Xander. If I hadn’t quit the organization. Moreover, what would’ve become of my teenage crush on Noah.

He nods, his expression unexpectedly sincere. “I’m glad I could offer a distraction, even if it was temporary. How long do you think you’ll stay in the city?”

I shrug. “Not sure. I can’t miss much school, but the thought of returning to Seattle…” My voice trails off. “I don’t think I can get on a plane just yet.”

He nods again. “I’m sure your dad is happy to have you here.”

“Yeah, I think so. He’s at the academy today, but hopefully he’ll be able to get some time away tomorrow.”

Noah rakes his hand through his hair. “I’m teaching an introductory seminar tomorrow. You should check it out if you end up needing something to do.”

My stomach dips and suddenly doesn’t feel so light and fluttery. I narrow my eyes. “I guess I should be happy that wealmostgot through a full encounter without that being brought up.”

He frowns briefly. “It was just an idea to keep your mind off things.”

“You think hanging out with a bunch of demon hunters is going to help take my mind off demons?”

He raises his hands defensively. “Forget I asked.”

I nod curtly. “Already forgotten.”

Noah exhales a heavy sigh. “Shit, Cam, I’m sorry. This whole thing was meant to make you feel better. I know you think I’m an ass—”

“I think you’re an ass because youactlike an ass.”

“Noted,” he grants with a faint smile. “Come on. I’ll take you home. Your dad should be done working soon, and I’m sure he’ll want to spend time with you.”

I nod, not wanting to end what was a surprisingly good time on a sour note—just because I started to overthink what he was saying.

“And if you ever want to do this again,” he says casually while meeting my gaze, “well, at least now you have my number.”

Is that Noah’s way of saying he wants me to use it?

Younger me would be ecstatic at that, but I don’t know how to feel right now. After everything that happened with Xander, I’m finding it difficult to trust my gut when it comes to the guys in my life. Granted, I’ve known Noah since I was a kid and I’m confident he’s not lying about his identity, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t hurt me.

So I build up a wall, offer him a polite smile, and decide I’m not going to call him.

TWENTY-ONEXANDER

Camille left the city. And after what happened to her friends, I don’t blame her. The part of me that cares for her is infected with the pain of sympathy mixed with guilt surrounding how they lost their lives. I have no fucking clue how to deal, and drinking with Blake only works to numb things for so long.

I typically consider myself someone with a high level of self control, so I can’t quite explain how I ended up booking a flight to JFK. Even once I’m at the airport, standing at the gate waiting to board, I don’t fully understand why I’m going or what I’m going to do when I get there. All I know is I couldn’t ignore this urge to go, so I left.

I can feelsomethingbrewing among the demons, which means, no matter where Camille is, she isn’t safe. No one will touch her if I’m close, so perhaps part of my reason for going is tied to that. Because everything else aside, and even with the darkness inside me longing to serve Lucia, I won’t let Camille get hurt more than she already has.

I don’t expect her to be happy to see me. Getting around her father is going to add a layer of complication to this impromptu trip to the Big Apple, because I have no doubt Scott Morgan would kill me on sight, if given the chance. No hesitation or remorse. Hell, it would be justified for what I’ve done to his daughter, but that doesn’t stop me from going after her, anyway.

“What are you doing?”

I glance over at Blake, who’s behind the wheel of the rental car. He wouldn’t let me take the trip on my own. While I’m not sure it’s the best idea having him here, I suppose it’s better to have backup. In case I run into the neighborhood watch of hunters on the Upper West Side.

“I think we should tell her we’re here,” I say, tapping my finger against my phone as I contemplate how to craft that message.

“Why? So Daddy Hunter can come up with a plan to take us out the moment we arrive?”

“No, but I think if we show up out of nowhere, Camille will immediately go on the defensive.” And she’d have every right to. I haven’t exactly given her any reason to trust me.

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