Page 80 of The Devil's Waltz

Once our food comes, we don’t speak much. Dad asks about school and work, so I have the super-fun time telling him I lost my job when the café closed. I figured Mom would’ve told him already. She’d see it as another opportunity to twist my arm into training again, especially after the monetary offer she presented me with.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I know how much you enjoyed that job.”

I manage a smile, because at least his knee-jerk response wasn’t to nudge me toward the academy. “Yeah. Thanks, Dad.”

His phone chimes, and he frowns as he retrieves it and reads the message at the same moment the waiter comes back to our table.

I frown, wanting to ask my dad what’s going on.

“Can I get you folks anything else? Dessert or coffee?”

Dad pulls out his credit card and slides it across the table toward me. “I have to go,” he says as he gets up, glancing between me and the waiter. He looks as if he doesn’t want to leave me here alone, but the call of duty isn’t one he can ignore, especially in the current climate of his work. He stands with his back to the waiter, lowering his voice. “Cami—”

“It’s fine,” I assure him. “I’m going to order a giant piece of cake and be home in less than ten minutes stuffing my face. I’ll let today’s bodyguard know I’ll be there shortly.” My voice takes on a wry tone, because even though I understand the reason for the security team, thinking about having one still sometimes makes me feel twitchy and claustrophobic.

He hesitates, a muscle popping in his jaw as he clenches his teeth. The uncertainly is clear on his face. He’s torn between my safety and his duty, and we both know he doesn’t really have a choice. Such is the life of a demon hunter. Finally, he nods. “Text me as soon as you get home. I’ll see you there soon.”

I get up to hug him goodbye, squeezing extra hard. “Be careful,” I say in a quiet but firm voice.

“Always,” he says back, kissing my cheek.

Once he’s gone, I take another look at the dessert menu. The waiter leaves to put my order in and get the bill, and I lean back in my chair, taking a moment to center my breathing. As hard as I try not to think of my dad running off to fight the demons, my head immediately goes there. He’s a skilled hunter—one of the best in North America, which is what got him the position he’s in now—but there’s no stopping the worry that fills me, especially now.Unprecedentedisn’t a word you want to hear in the line of work he’s in.

I pull my phone out to check for any updates from Harper, frowning at the lack of new messages before setting it on the table. There might even be a tiny part of me that had hoped to hear from Noah again, but I refuse to sit here and analyze that right now.

Someone drops into the chair across from me, and my head shoots up, my eyes narrowing when they land on the prince of hell.

“Are youinsane?” I snap. “What are you doing here?”

His eyes flick between mine, his mouth hinting at a smile. “That was about the greeting I expected.”

Before I can reach for my phone, Xander grabs it off the table. My heart beats faster, and I glance around subtly. We’re the only ones on the patio, and this particular street is never very busy with foot traffic.

“You can relax,mo shíorghrá.”

There’s that nickname again. I tried looking it up after the first time he spoke it, but I must’ve butchered the spelling, because I couldn’t find any translations that made sense.

“Not likely,” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest as I stare at him, waiting for him to explain himself.

The waiter chooses that moment to return with the plastic to-go container of cake. He glances at Xander, his brows lifting slightly, probably surprised to find someone new sitting across from me. “Good evening, sir. Can I get you anything?”

Xander keeps his eyes on me. “No, thank you. We’re good here.”

“Ma’am?” the waiter asks, and I look at him again.

“Just the bill, please,” I force out in a level tone.

The uncertainty in his eyes makes me nervous, because if he continues to hover, I have no idea what Xander will do. All I know is that I don’t want to find out.

“Of course.” He pulls the slip out of his apron, handing it to me before the card machine. The payment goes through, but the waiter doesn’t walk away. “Are you sure there isn’t anything else I can get for you?”

I nod. “Thank you very much.”

He hesitates, shooting another glance in Xander’s direction.

Walk away, I desperately want to say, but that would likely only make him more wary of the demon sat across from me.

Finally he leaves the table, and I exhale, returning my focus to Xander, who is still looking at me. He hasn’t taken his eyes off me since he arrived.

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