Page 12 of The Sin Eater
“For the other night.”
“Oh, sure. No problem.” We reach the door to Brew on the Hill. I can’t decide whether I should follow that with a question or just let it alone. “So, do you want to tell me what happened?”
I’m either terminally curious or asking for trouble.
The look he gives me is answer enough. Okay. Not talking about it. I push the door open and stand aside so he can go in. There’s his scent again, cigarettes and lavender, and while he’s a good six inches shorter than I am, there’s a strength to him that I like. He’s tough in a way I can’t quite figure out.
“So... “ We’re standing next to each other in the short line, both facing front. He’s slightly ahead of me, as if he doesn’t want to let anyone know we’re together. Not that we’re together-together, but we did walk over and... aw, hell. I figure I’ve got ten, maybe fifteen minutes tops before he grabs his drink and runs. “Are you from Seattle originally?”
He slides his gaze in my direction, his lips tight, fighting a grin. He’s got one hand in his pocket, fingers moving like he’s got a worry stone in there. “Nah, I grew up outside of Little Rock.”
“In Arkansas?” Which is a stupid thing to say, especially since I’d caught a hint of Southern in his voice the other night.
He gives in and grins. Well, on anyone else that slight curve in his lower lip a grin wouldn’t qualify as a grimace. I recognize it for what it is. “Yes. Arkansas.”
“What made you decide to move to the furthest corner of the country?”
His hand doesn’t stop moving. “Sorta worked my way across to the West Coast. California was too hot so I came here.”
“Makes sense.” This is as close as we’ve ever come to having a conversation, so of course my mind has gone blank.Damn it. Onthe other hand, it’s a relief just to see him. Whatever happened the other night, he seems to have recovered.
“You from around here?” he asks, gaze directed at the floor, fingers moving in his pocket.
“Yup, born and raised in Renton, went to UW.”
“Huh.” He nods, like something I said checked a box in his head. “You got kind of a funny gig for a college grad.”
There’s more of an edge to his grin, and I don’t mind admitting that his comment bugs me. Yeah, sohospital security guardwas never on my wish list growing up, but the work’s steady and the benefits are good. “This is just temporary.”
While I figure out what’s next. Because something’s next. I just don’t know what.
He nods again, this time with more enthusiasm. “Sure.”
The guy in front of us pays for his drink. It’s our turn. Jett’s at the counter—Jett is always at the counter—and their smile is a shade wider than normal. “Gentlemen. I’m happy to see you both.”
“Hi, Jett.” I turn toward Ezra Morgue. “I’m buying.”
His sneer is almost a snarl. “Don’t worry about it.” He tips his head at Jett. “I’ll have the usual, without your bullshit cards.”
“Come on now.” Jett brings out a deck and gives the cards a quick shuffle. “Here, Damon. You go first.”
Jett fans out the cards and I pick one from the center. “Knight of Cups.” I turn it so both of them can see it. “Should I be ready for jousting?”
Jett returns the card to the deck and gives it another shuffle. “Only the romantic kind.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Their knowing laugh makes it seem like they’ve guessed my secret.Am I that obvious?Jesus.While I’m lost in embarrassment mode, they fan the deck and hold it toward Ezra. “Now it’s your turn.”
“Fuck.” Ezra rolls his eyes and after a brief pause, he takes a card. “What’s this bullshit?”
He’s pulled The Devil out of the deck. “You know what? I gotta get back to work.”
He pushes away from the counter and walks out, leaving me speechless.
“He’s trapped by something,” Jett says. picking up the card and tucking it back into the deck. “The cards make that plain.” They meet my gaze, expression somber. “I hope he’s able to find his way out.”
“Me too.” And I mean it, though hell if I know why.