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Phillip glanced over his shoulder to some drunk club patrons, their eyes finding the two of us the second they came close. “We need to go,” Phillip said softly, brushing away my drying tears with his thumbs before getting to his feet. “We’re booking a red-eye flight from here. I can’t chance another ten hours of driving.”

Licking my lips, I nodded and quickly shut the car door.

*

WE MADE IT TO AUSTRIAand traveled back roads to Phillip’s little piece of quaint heaven. I expected something gaudy and luxurious. Instead, I got a cottage covered in plant life and far removed from society.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” the Hunter introduced with a posh bow, mocking grin visible the minute he looked up. “It’s not much, but it’s been my personal home since I was given permission to leave my little room the Organization imprisoned me inside for thirty years.”

Imprisoned?

I opened my mouth, not expecting the bombshell window into his past, but Phillip pivoted and strode purposefully through the front door. After standing for long minutes alone outside of the house, the breeze gone and the air afflicted by so much magic even I could sense its presence, I finally followed the other Hunter inside.

Like its homey exterior, the interior was just as cozy. Everything was turn-of-the-century and well-kept. Everything had its place and was surprisingly clean. The living room was orderly and perfectly filled with little trinkets he’d probably gathered over the many years of his existence. Nothing about the home suggested its owner was a highly trained, incredibly lethal killer. If anything, it was a home loved and owned proudly.

“It’s sweet,” I commented, traveling the length of his bookcase and reading the embroidered names of many recognizable classics.

Phillip came over and took a book from the shelf. “One of my absolute favorites.”

“Jane Austen?”

“She was brilliant. A real gem of her time. Full of class but prone to let her tongue lash out the same way Elizabeth Bennet’s did. I adored her.” Phillip caressed the front of the book, then opened it. “She was even kind enough to sign this.”

Wait, what?!

Mouth gaping, I stared down at the open page and noticed the fluid penmanship addressed to Phillip with affection. “Please tell me you didn’t bang Jane Austen.”

Phillip’s eyebrow rose. “Is that what you think of me?”

“Well, did you?”

“No.” He responded coolly. “But not from a lack of trying.”

I scoffed unattractively. “So, there’s women out there who’ve rejected you. I like her even more now.”

Phillip’s grin was sly. “It was a different time then. I couldn’t persuade her.”

“Meaning she was too clever for you. Wished I was that clever. Would’ve saved me a lot of effort.”

“Is that what you’ve convinced yourself?”

Lips thinning, I glared at him. “It’s the truth.”

“If you say so.” Gazing tenderly at the book in my hand, Phillip sighed wistfully. “Only five years later, she passed away.”

“She did?”

Phillip’s lips quirked up in their usual sexy way. “Thought you were her fan? Didn’t know she died at forty-one?”

I grumbled to myself, not making eye contact. “Well, now I know. So, you were...friends?”

He chuckled lightly, humming to himself. “In a way, yes. We shared acquaintances, and I just happened to be required at a function she attended. She was witty and dazzling, but in a way that I hadn’t encountered with many humans. I wished I could say our time together was profound, but not likely. I only stayed in her company for maybe a fortnight before moving onto my next assignment.”

I’d never tell him, but his laughter was the best thing after a shit night and long-ass plane flight. It was rich and made him look younger, more alive, and I did whatever I could without realizing to get him to do it again.

“But she obviously had an impact on your life if you talk about her like that,” I commented, not entirely sure why my throat burned. “Was she...killed?”

The Hunter’s smile was poignant. “Thankfully, no. Eros and I—” He stopped abruptly, as if catching himself. “No. I hadn’t made my mark on this world at that point.”