Page 81 of Till Death and Daisies Bloom

“No,” he agreed softly. “It wasn’t.”

A pause stretched between us.

I stared at the floor, mortified. "She said I needed to loosen up."

“You don’t need to change who you are to be worth anyone’s time,” Lust said, his voice unusually firm. “Juniper crossed aline. I crossed a line. I won’t speak for her, but please forgive me.”

My throat felt tight. I didn’t speak.

He clapped a hand on my shoulder, gave it a squeeze. “C’mon. Let’s ditch this place. There’s a bookstore café two realms over. They serve tea in porcelain skulls and won’t talk about body shots unless it’s metaphorical.”

I blinked at him. “You’re coming with me?”

He grinned. “What kind of brother would I be if I left you to the nymphs?”

For the first time that evening, I smiled.

Lustand I had just sat down in the little café tucked between a pizza joint and a tax attorney’s office. It was peaceful. Quiet. The scent of old pages and bergamot tea hung in the air. I felt my blood pressure returning to something resembling normal.

The server brought us a pot of rosehip and wrathberry blend. Lust nodded approvingly and gestured for me to pour, which I did, because some of us have manners.

“You know,” Lust said, stirring honey into his cup, “you’re weirdly good at pouring tea. Like, aggressively competent.”

“I practice,” I said simply.

He smirked. “Of course you do.”

I was about to ask if that was sarcasm when the wind changed.

Or more accurately, the mood.

A swirl of golden pollen puffed through the door, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up like soldiers on alert.

“Oh gods, no,” I whispered.

Lust turned just in time to see her strut into the café—barefoot, glittering, and armed with an armful of lilies and what appeared to be a love poem written on a leaf.

“Found youuuu!” Daphne sang, practically dancing up to our table.

Lust blinked. “How...sorry, why did you follow us?”

“I was promised a date, you pulled him away, I am simply following him,” she said cheerfully, plopping down beside me and draping her legs across my lap. “You smell like shame and pine needles. It’s intoxicating.”

I recoiled. “Please remove your limbs from my person.”

“Ugh, you’re so buttoned-up. It’s adorable.” She twirled a finger in my hair. “Like a librarian who’s never sinned.”

“I am a librarian who’s never sinned,” I snapped back, pushing her legs away with as much dignity as one could while being used as furniture. Lust sipped his tea slowly, eyes flicking over Daphne with a look I could only describe as mild exorcism in progress.

Then I felt it.

A pulse.

Not from Daphne, who had given up on me as a bad sport and was now trying to get the tea server to do shots of hibiscus syrup—but from someone else. Someone trying desperately not to be noticed.

I turned my head just slightly.

There, standing half-tucked behind a bookshelf and a floating display of erotic fae novels, was Juniper.

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