Page 46 of All Your Bloody Lies

“What, Kai?”

I know I’m staring at her and she’s caught me, but I couldn’t care less. She’d have to take my eyes away for me to stop, and even then, once they were back, I’d continue. “Why do you call me Kai?”

Her eyebrows pull together. “Isn’t that your name?”

“No…” I can hear footsteps approaching from behind me, and I lean back, draping my arm over the bench. “My name is Kairhyse.”

“Good afternoon,” an older woman, Mundane, stands beside the table holding a pad of paper in her shaky hands. She has a bright smile lingering on Xeraphine, and is given an equally genuine one back.

I hum,beautiful.

“What can I get you?” she addresses my little demon first.

“Pancakes, please.”

“Regular, Chocolate Chip, Strawberry or Peaches?”

“Regular, with extra butter. No syrup, but—” She looks at the side of the table nearest the window, inspecting the condiments. “Honey, if you have some.”

“What would you like to drink?”

“A glass of water, and if you have any, tomato juice.”

Interesting, I don’t think I’ve ever in my life heard someone order tomato juice.

“I’ll check to see if we have any,” the waitress, whose fine lines extend higher with her smile toward me, says. “And for you, we have O negative and B positive.”

I flick my gaze to Xeraphine, expecting her to try to deny my order again, but she’s glancing out the window paying no mind.

“O negative will be fine. I’ll take it slightly warmed, thank you, doll.”

With that, we are alone once again.

“Kai—” she doesn’t look at me as she continues, “—Rhyse. It’s easier to say Kai. Does it offend you?” Something told me that if it did, she’d use it more often. That thought almost tempts me to lie.

“No, it doesn’t offend me.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Her shortness with me makes me chuckle. I cross my legs but hit the table, nearly tipping it over onto her. “Glad you did that before my food got here, I’d be pissed if you spilled anything.”

“So worried about everything that can be replaced.” I fix the table, trying to stop it from its wobble. “If I ruined your plain ass pancakes I’d just order you more. Or, if I spilled your strange request of tomato juice, I’d get you another.” As her lips part with what I assume is going to be a smart remark, I continue. “I quite enjoy you calling me Kai, especially when you scream it.”

She rolls her eyes, her arms tightening around her waist. “Whatever.”

I can’t tell if she’s responding to me disrespecting her choice in breakfast, or that I like her screaming my name. Either way, I can see a slight tint to her cheeks. Not much, but it’s enough for me to recognize I can make her blush, and now I’m determined to do so again.

We sit in silence, but I don’t find it awkward. Any partner I’ve been placed with, like Mathas—poor guy—I’d rarely talk with. Not that I didn’t enjoy a good conversation, just never found a desired topic to discuss unless it was about work. In my little demon’s and my current situation, I’m just enjoying watching her look outside. There are rolling thunderstorms coming in, I can smell it, but now that the clouds are beginning to cover the setting sun, it’ll be a nice rainy drive home.

I can’t get over how beautiful she is. While yes, everything from her hair down to her cute toes I saw when I took her shoes off to remove her pants is stunning, it’s more than that. It’s a look of deadly grace, something that she permeates instead of something that is merely a physical description.

She’s deadly, and she doesn’t give a rat’s ass about it. The meticulous way she is, makes me hunger to know more. The file on this mystery murderer, now not a mystery to me, is that she kills high-level targets, or those associated with them. She’s on a warpath, but it’s not out of the desire to kill at random.

She’s also a psychotic bitch, but one that actually cares for those that are important to her. Her friend, Sydni, for instance. Denying to feed from her was Xera’s way of saying ‘I love you’ to that butterfly. The concern for that male, Tyson, was also palpable. He just better keep his fucking hands off her, I warned him and won’t give him another.

“You are so weird.” She doesn’t turn her head from the window, but I can see her peering at me from the corner of her eyes.

I shrug my shoulders, “It’s a compliment, take it, little demon.”

She groans, and I’m surprised when she asks, “Your tattoos, what do they mean?”