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I’d only grabbed things to eat. This would be my drink.

I took one of the cups stocked next to the machine. It took me a moment to figure out exactly how the metal device worked. Eventually I tried pulling down the lever in front of me. Instantly, bright red liquid dripped out of the machine, and I hurried to put my cup underneath it. My drink overflowed before I could figure out how to turn it off, and I spent several moments wiping the excess Slurpee off on a nearby rack of shirts.

“Miss!”

I licked the sticky red substance off my fingers.

It wasgood.

I capped the drink, grabbing one of the little red tubes—straws, I remembered the name an instant later—and stuck it in my drink. Then wiped the rest of the sticky substance coating my hands off on the shirt rack.

“Miss, you can’t do that!”

I turned, lifting the Slurpee to my lips and drawing a deep pull of it.

I eyed the man behind the counter, who looked a bit peeved, though his annoyance seemed to be evaporating as I watched.

My gaze moved to his bare arms. I could really use some more magic right about now. It would take an instant to hop over the barrier that separated us. My nails were sharp enough. I could drag them down his arms and get some blood flowing.

And then I would cull it.

I took a single step forward.

A heavy hand fell to the back of my neck. “Don’t even think about it,” Asher growled into my ear.

I started at his presence so close to me, and the fact that he knew my exact thoughts.

“You’re not a mindreader,” I said.

“It doesn’t take a mindreader to figure you demons out.”

He released me roughly, and I staggered back.

“Your five minutes are up.” His gaze landed on the Slurpee in my hand, then slid to the items in the basket at my feet.

“Jesus, Lana,” he said, scowling down at it, “do you want to buy the rest of the store while we’re at it?” He lifted the basket and began pawing through my items.

“Don’t touch them,” I said, pushing his hands away. He squashed something called a Snowball, much to my dismay.

“Can you even eat this?” he said, still poking through the items.

I began to frown. “You’re being mean again.”

He glanced up, his eyes catching on my lips. “I’m trying to fuc—I’m trying to help,” he said.

“I don’t need your help. And I want all of this.”

He gave a long-suffering sigh, then took the basket from me and headed to the front of the store, muttering under his breath.

I sipped my Slurpee some more, watching his backside as he walked away from me. He had a very nice backside.

“Stop eye-fucking me, Lana,” Asher said, not turning around.

Great Mother, what a waste of perfectly good flesh.

My excitement overhuman food waned once we approached Asher’s car. I lowered the Slurpee from my lips and stopped short, remembering I had to get back in that metal deathtrap.

Asher didn’t seem to notice, circling around the driver’s side and throwing in the plastic bag he carried.