Page 50 of Shadows of Nightshade
He'd managed to conquer a great kitchen remodel for someone who didn’t care about food.
“Nothing,” I said and lowered my hands. I’d changed intocasual clothes, forgoing my usual nightgowns for something warmer—a pair of navy pajama bottoms and a gray sweatshirt.
I was going to get them all dirty, and Finn had no right to complain.
“You’re not worried, are you?” Titus asked. “Because Damen has everything under control.”
“I do.” Damen chose that moment to appear, and he moved across the room to the coffee machine. “The night is just starting,” he said, catching my eye as he poured an obscene amount of coffee grounds into the maker. “It’s too early to be tired.”
So that was how he maintained his relentless drive. But in this, we were kindred souls.
“Do you like coffee?” he asked. “I know you were drinking that fake crap earlier today.”
“Yes,” I answered. He was more observant than I thought. “But lattes aren’t fake.”
I climbed onto one of the leather stools. Titus sat beside me and crossed his arms over the counter. “I don’t drink coffee,” he told me. “I take one sip, and I’ll be up for days.”
I was suspicious. Surely that was an exaggeration. Before I could question him, however, a ring sounded through the room.
“Oh,” Titus stood and reached into his pockets. “I grabbed your phones before we left.”
My… phones?
A surge of panic made me still—was Finn calling me again? I wasn’t ready to deal with him tonight, even though I knew things were far from over.
But that wasn’t my usual ringtone.
Titus pulled out the pink phone instead, and he didn’t even try to peek at the screen before sliding it to me. My skin began to hum in nervous excitement.
Who could it be? Only a few people knew this number.
Heck,Ididn’t even know this number.
Julian
What kind of Chinese food do you like?
I tilted my head—bemused. How fitting that my first conversation on my new phone would be about food. Food was life, after all. However, in answer to that particular question…
Me
I’ve only ever had lo mein. But I don’t want noodles. What do you recommend?
He didn’t respond. A second later, Titus and Damen reached for their phones at the same time. Damen’s was a curiously large and clunky brick-colored box, while Titus’s phone was thin and sleek. A sense of foreboding grew within me as I watched the two of them, embarrassed.
Surely, Julian did not—
“How could you never have had sweet and sour chicken before?” Titus glanced at me, his tone incredulous. “That’s astaple.”
“That is not a staple,” Damen lowered his glasses. “The pork dish is more popular than the chicken, as is the ma po tofu.”
“Nobody wants to eat tofu.” Titus narrowed his eyes, as if the suggestion offended him on a personal level. “Besides, Bianca ate meat at lunch. You don’t need to suggest that crap.”
“Julian likes tofu,” Damen pointed out. “So do a lot of other people: vegans, vegetarians… or even those who eat it because it tastes good.”
“It doesn’t ever taste good,” Titus grumbled. He pulled one of my hands in his own and gave me a very serious look. “Don’t be like Julian. Please eat meat.”
My brow raised as I processed his very strange request. “Julian is a vegan?”
