Page 53 of The Sin Eater
“That’s closer,” he says, and he must be satisfied because he goes on to ask who Damon is. I tell him, which leads me to the picture that Damon and Dorinda found.
“The cops are working on it too.” I stifle a shudder at the memory of how Detective McGraw had grilled me the night before, which leads to a memory of how Damon’s body had moved against mine on the dance floor , which gets me way the hell off topic.
Micah doesn’t seem to notice. His phone chirps and he frowns at it. “Shit, gotta head for the office.”
“More vampires?”
He shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Something.”
I get to my feet, too. “I should probably get back to work, too, but thanks for, uh, listening.”
He faux-punches my shoulder. “No probs, man. We should talk some more.” He holds his phone toward me. “Let’s swap contact info.”
We do the iPhone bump and he takes off. I’ve still got half a cup of coffee and most of a cinnamon roll, so I ask Jett for a box and head back to the hospital. I’m almost there when my phone chimes. It’s a text from Micah, whose avatar is a hawk.
If the cops can’t identify the woman, I know a guy who might be able to help.
I stare at the screen so long I come damned close to walking into the door, which would likely have made me spill my coffee and completely ruin my day. Instead, I head for the stairs, composing and re-composing my response. I finally settle onthanks, I’ll be in touch.
Chapter Eighteen
Damon
So, a psychic, huh?” Dorinda’s pouring herself a cup of coffee and she’s got her bitch face on.
I’m not awake enough for whatever lecture she’s got planned. And I know she’s got one. There’s a reason she became a lawyer. “Coffee first, D.”
She thrusts the cup at me and I manage to grab it without spilling anything. Cool. I take a sip, reminding myself to be grateful I have a roommate who’ll make coffee before I get out of bed, even if she is my older sister who has opinions about all my life choices. I meander into the living room and collapse onto the couch. If I’m going to hear a lecture, at least I can be comfortable.
Instead, her phone pings, and she mutters a soft, “Damn it.”
“What?”
Carrying her own coffee, she rounds the couch’s L and perches on the end. “Jacquie can’t go to the game today. She’s sick.”
Dorinda counts season tickets to the UW Husky football team as one of the perks of having a real job. I don’t bleed purple anymore but I can appreciate a good football game. “Call Tessa.”I suggest one of her hardcore football-loving friends so I don’t make my interest too obvious.
She raises her brows at me over the rim of her coffee mug. “You don’t think she’s already got tickets to a game this big?”
I shrug into my coffee, determined not to give her puppy dog eyes. “Guess I haven’t been paying attention.”
“Too busy rescuing psychic mortuary attendants.” Her tone is a flat challenge.
Don’t react. Instead, I stand and raise my coffee mug. “Thanks for the coffee. I’ll be in my room.”
She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Hiding, Damon? You gotta know you can do better than Ezra the Psychic.”
“Nope.” Exhaling hard through my nose, I lose the battle with self-restraint. “You barely know the guy, and last night was definitely not the kind of situation to judge him by.”
“How well do you know him?”
“Well enough.” Time to get dressed and head for the gym. I can spend some quality time on the treadmill and sweat out my irritation while I’m there.
“Where’s he from? He has kind of an accent.”
“Bumfuck, Arkansas, and he’s a decent guy.”I hope. “I swear it.”
She’s on the couch, shaking her head at me. “There’s more to life taking care of people, little brother. You need to be with someone who’ll lift you up, not drag you down into their bullshit.”