Page 23 of Property of Bones

“You were gonna offer to watch Sunny.”

“Icouldwatch Sunny,” he says innocently. “I’m great at surveillance. And I make excellent snacks.”

“Surveillance doesn’t require interaction,” I snap.

Spike chuckles from behind his desk, and even Tank cracks a smirk. Skip shrugs, entirely unbothered, and lowers his hand with a dramatic sigh.

“Fine. You guys never let me have any fun.”

“You’re a menace,” I growl. “You think flirting is a public service.”

“Itis,” he shoots back. “You’re just grumpy because you’re in love and still pretending you aren’t.”

My head snaps in his direction so fast my neck pops.

“Iain’tin love.”

Skip cackles. “Whatever you say Pinocchio.”

“Do you want to die today?” I ask, stepping forward.

“I mean, only if it’s by your hands, Bones,” Skip says, eyes sparkling.

Tank whistles low. “You two need couples therapy.”

Spike just shakes his head. “Enough. Bones, pick someone who won’t scare her or hit on her. We meet with the Vipers in three hours.”

I grunt and storm out. I’ll figure it out. But if Skip eventhinksabout showing up near Sunny, I’ll break both his legs and call it a damn favor.

***Sunny***

“Who are you?” I ask the strange man leaning against my apartment door.

The man simply points to his vest. Or, as Abby corrected me once, his cut.

“I can see that you’re part of the Iron Shadows,” I smile. “But I don’t think I’ve ever met you before.”

“Names Foster,” he says, his voice low enough to cause an earthquake. “Bones sent me to watch over you until he gets back.”

“He really doesn’t need to be doing this,” I mutter, mostly to myself. “I don’t even knowwhyhe’s doing this. It’s beenweekssince Josh was killed. No one’s bothered me. Not a single ominous note. Not even a shady guy in a hoodie. I think I’m good.”

Foster doesn’t respond. He just stands there like a giant, unmovable piece of furniture with a tactical stare.

“You want to come in for tea?” I ask because apparently, I’ve given up on normal boundaries. “Or coffee? I’d offer you a beer, but I don’t have any. Unless you count a can of ginger ale that might be expired.”

I expect a chuckle. Maybe even a smile.

Instead, the man frowns at me like I just offered him a live grenade.

“You shouldn’t be inviting strange men into your home,” he growls, low and sharp.

I blink. “Okay, well, first off…rude. And second, I may not know Jack, Abby, Riley, or the rest of you guys personally, but I’ve seen enough to know none of you would hurt me. I trust the Iron Shadows. Ergo…”

I gesture toward his cut like it’s a full-on Harvard diploma.

He doesn’t even blink. “Doesn’t matter.”

I pause. “I’m sorry?”

---