Page 26 of Her Dreadful Will
“I know, and I’m so sorry—”
He held up a hand to silence her. “This is too much. I mean, who abandons a wounded stranger by the side of the road at night?”
Soleil wanted to disintegrate and pass right through the bench padding, through the floor, down into the dark oblivion of the earth.
“As if that wasn’t bad enough,” he continued, “You wererunning. Atnight. When normal people are on their couches binging their favorite shows like reasonable human beings. What kind of monster are you?”
His eyes sparkled into hers, and the corner of his mouth twitched up.
“Oh god, you’re not angry?” she gasped.
“Not at all. No harm done.”
“Good. That’s good.” She took a few long, slow breaths. And then a question pricked her mind. “So why wereyouout there at night?”
“I was walking.”
“Walking? In the dark?”
His mouth quirked, a sardonic challenge. “Just like you wererunningin the dark.”
Their eyes locked again, and this time the jolt passing through Soleil’s heart was different, like an electric current of mutual awareness. Like a secret, unspoken yet shared.
She opened her mouth to probe further, but Achan broke the moment by stretching and saying, “Ah, here comes the food. At last.”
The server sidled up to their table, balancing a pair of plates. She had tugged her neckline lower, and her breasts practically bulged out as she leaned over to set Achan’s plate in front of him.
Soleil was within the server’s volisphere again. She could feel the woman’s will, a screeching cacophony of frustration and anger. Zillah Dean was furious, and she hungered to cause pain and confusion to those around her. But threaded through the tangle of sound was a keening, helpless desire to escape.
Soleil was tempted to interfere. Influencing this woman’s will wouldn’t be selfish; it would benefit Zillah and everyone else dining here.
But she forced herself to staynormal, on this nice, normal date. No magical interference. Not tonight.
“You got the sirloin with the risotto and squash?” The server’s voice infiltrated Soleil’s reverie.
“No, I—I ordered the ribeye with a baked potato and asparagus—” Soleil met the woman’s hot gaze and decided it wasn’t worth it. “This is fine.”
“Huh.” The woman leaned in, setting the plate down in front of Soleil a little too hard. Then she whirled and marched away. Soleil inhaled sharply as her consciousness was thrown out of the woman’s volisphere. She hadn’t had time to isolate or enhance any positive impulses.
Achan was watching her. “You all right?”
“Of course I am.” She smiled, unwrapping her silverware from the cloth napkin.
“Of course you are. Who wouldn’t be, with such wonderful service?”
She suppressed a giggle.
“Don’t you ever wish karma would—you know—engagewith people like that?” He winked at her.
“I guess.” Soleil picked up her fork, and immediately noticed a crust of hardened sauce along one of the tines. Great. She could mention it, and risk heightening Zillah Dean’s wrath, or she could deal with it and hope she didn’t imbibe any germs from a previous diner.
“Your silverware is dirty,” said Achan. “I’ll ask her to bring us another set.”
Their server stalked out of the kitchen again, heading for a neighboring table. She glanced at Achan’s raised hand and pointedly averted her gaze.
“So she’s ignoring us now.” He lifted his hand higher, waving his fingers.
The server’s thigh hit a table corner and she pitched forward, crashing to the floor in a hail of broken plates and splattered food.
