Dark Desires After Dusk (Immortals After Dark #6)(61)

Her lips parted as she donned them. Who was more supportive? Tim, who verbally encouraged her, or Cadeon, who made her work possible?

Stop comparing them! Tim also didn’t go and doff bar owners of the sexually insatiable demoness variety.

“They feel perfect. But, Cadeon, I’m turning back. My eyesight will go bad again.”

“Then get them changed again later. But for now, you’ve got work to do,” he said, adding gravely, “Holly, it’s not like codes write themselves.” He handed her another bag. “Now, check out the coat I got for you.”

Reaching into the bag, she pulled out a small, formfitting ski jacket. “It’s red.”

“It should be. You don’t own anything red.” Again, he’d noticed.

She was surprised by his good taste, but still said, “It doesn’t look very heavy.”

“New technology, halfling. This will keep you warm when it’s twenty below. Just trust me. Besides, you’re not feeling the cold as you used to, are you?”

“No, I guess not . . . .”

The server came with their drinks then: a beer for Cadeon, and for her a chilled bottle of Perrier—unopened per Cadeon’s request.

Once the man left to check on their order, she said, “Why are you always concerned about me eating?”

*

Cade exhaled, hating this part. Because I’m not a good man, and I’m about to betray you in the cruelest way imaginable . . . .

It seemed to him like every moment of satisfaction with his female cost him another lie, digging himself deeper, ensuring there could be no forgiveness.

Block it out. “Maybe your transition can be slowed if you held onto some human traits?”

She sighed. “I’m hungry less and less. I could easily see myself forgetting to eat altogether.”

“The change has already taken a foothold in you. I don’t think you even realize how much stronger and quicker you’re getting.”

She grew quiet for long moments, folding and refolding her napkin with her thin, nimble fingers. The ones that had been wrapped around his shaft mere hours ago. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Cadeon . . .”

“What’s on your mind?”

“I was just wondering . . . what’s it like to live forever?”

Wearying. Without a mate and family, it was so damned wearying. But he answered, “Living forever has it perks. Such as the not dying part. Are you thinking about signing on for immortality?”

“I don’t know how to answer. I definitely see advantages to being a Valkyrie. But I don’t want to be the Vessel. I don’t want to be dead or bred. And I don’t know how I’d reconcile my current life with the change. What if I flashed an ear in class?”

“You’d be amazed how many Lorekind live among humans, and they never know it.”

She tilted her head. “Honestly, I’m not certain that I’d want to live forever . . . .” She trailed off when the server returned with their dishes.

For Cade: a twenty-ounce porterhouse. For her: bananas unpeeled and boiled eggs with their shells intact, accompanied by plastic ware, still in the wrapper.

She looked from her meal to his, her expression growing forlorn.

“You want some of my steak, don’t you?”

She shook her head hard, clearly wanting some of his steak. “I still have . . . issues.”

“I know, I know. You like things untouched and still packaged.”

She frowned when the server returned with another plate for her, filled with lobster tails and uncracked crab legs.

When they were alone again, Cade said, “Behold, the ultimate in untouched and packaged foods. You can crack the shells yourself without any transference, then eat the meat with the plastic fork.”

She blinked at him. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had fresh seafood?” Then her lips curled into a smile.

Score another one for the demon.

*

“I’m a good date, aren’t I?”

“If only you weren’t so modest,” Holly replied outside the restaurant. In truth, he had been a good date, creatively working with her quirks. And the dinner had been phenomenal.

He crossed to a garbage can, throwing the watch boxes away. From that distance, he turned and tossed something to her. “Think fast!” he said.

Was it shining?

A diamond ring.

Her wide-eyed gaze locked on it in the air, her hand shooting out to snare it.

She opened her palm, shivering with wonder. “What is this for?” she asked in a daze.

“Aversion training. Now you have to look away from it,” he said at her ear. When had he moved so close to her?

She hastily hooked her finger into the ring so he couldn’t snatch it from her, but she couldn’t look away.

“Break your stare.”

She shook her head irritably. He’d thrown it at her, but expected her to take her eyes from it?

“Look away, or I’ll toss your laptop into that public trash bin over here. Imagine the germs teeming in there. You think the hard drive will even be salvageable?”

Holly started quaking with the effort to look away. “Don’t . . . please!”

He covered her hand, then wrenched the ring from her clutching fingers.