Page 51 of Too Cursed To Kiss
“For how long?”
“Eight years.” He flicked his hair back.
Holy crap. “Years? Why the hell would you do that to someone?”
“Because Sert is a bad influence on Devlyn, and it gave me more control over him. Call it leverage.”
“Wow, I wasn’t expecting you to be…”
“Calculating?”
“An asshole, but we can go with yours if you want to feel better about it.”
“You have no idea who I am, Harlan, or what I can do.” His voice lowered, sending my blood to ice-crystal level. A monster, literally.
He was right, but from the first moment I’d spotted him, I knew he was dangerous. “How about you tell me more about you since I know everything about your family and almost nothing about you. We have time to kill.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Open book, huh? I like it. Okay, let’s go right for the money question. What the hell are you actually afraid of? Because it’s obviously not those agent-things.”
He rubbed his chin. “I won’t say I’m not afraid of the Grigores. But what scares me, as I think that’s what you arelooking for, is losing people. But I’m also not fond of clowns.”
He shifted when he said losing people, and I bet he was thinking of Agatha. But according to him she wasn’t dead. “Clowns? Ha. Wouldn’t have called that. But you mean losing people, people dying on you? Because that I get.”
“Going away. I tend to form deep connections when I get to know people.” He glanced at me, and my heart raised pom-poms.
“You do, huh? How deep? Never mind, I’ll get that answer later when you aren’t driving.” My hand twitched as I glanced at his crotch. “Okay, so what about favorite things? Movies? Favorite food? What about those books in your room?”
“Yes, I read.” He chuckled. God, I loved that sound. I pulled my hair back and stretched out my neck. It was amazing how fast I’d healed from the wound at Agatha’s, but I was still creaky.
“I have a passion for the human take on esoteric magic and hermetic philosophy. But I’m also partial to a good thriller or a slow folklore horror.”
“Huh, would not have guessed that.”
“No?”
“Darker than—oh, maybe that does makes sense.” I laughed. “What about movies? Slasher pics? Shoot-outs?”
He chuckled. “It would have to be something by Tarantino. Pick one. Although Del Toro does some nice stuff. I like his aesthetic.”
“You’re into aesthetics?” I once-over his blacks. Definite interest in detail on the jacket, and he’d picked out nice stuff for me. His bedroom had defined choices with beautiful pieces, so this shouldn’t have been a surprise.
“I know what I like. I’d ask you your favorites but well…”
“You already know.”
“Tell me anyways. I like the sound of your voice.”
“You do?”
He nodded, and my stomach did flip-flops.
“You already know I have a thing for true crime podcasts. For books, it’s a good mystery like Agatha Christie but gritty like Tana French, anything with a femme fatale. For food, a decent grilled cheese and a chocolate malt.”
“That wasn’t all going through your head. Something about bodices ripping, scary men with masks, and cherries with bourbon?”
My cheeks heated. “Yeah, I like those too.” Damn him.
