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“He knows,” Darien said. “But I’ll still tell him.”
Paxton nodded. “Cool.”
Darien reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty. “Here—”
Paxton snatched it out of his hand. “You said a hundo, but I’ll take it!” He snapped it and held it up to the light, as if checking for signs of counterfeit.
“It’s not for you. Go order a twelve-pack to go.”
Paxton pushed out from the table and stood. “Extra icing?”
“On the side,” Darien called. Ivy didn’t like anything too sweet.
Paxton skipped up to the counter and placed the order.
As Darien waited, he stared out the window, at the rain dribbling down the cobbled road. There was a florist across the street, a specialty tea shop beside it, and two doors down from the florist was a spa that prided themselves on their selection of all-natural skincare. Face jellies. Darien couldn’t help but smirk at the memory. There was even an ice cream parlor with over a hundred flavors, and a coffee shop ran by a witch who served everything from drinks that sparkled with gold dust, to cupcakes with decorations that talked or moved.
This block felt just like the Avenue of the Scarlet Star. Loren would love it here; the moment she woke up and felt well enough to come here, he’d show her this place.
Paxton returned, bumping into an empty chair hard enough to make it groan, the sound snapping Darien out of his daydream.
“I also got a pop,” Paxton said. “Hope you don’t mind.” He slurped from a can of grape soda, his upper lip already stained purple.
“You won’t be getting any sleep tonight with all that sugar.” He glanced out the window again. “What’s this street called?”
He took another slurp. “Avenue of the Waning Moon.”
“You serious?”
“Mm-hmm.”
No wonder it reminded Darien so much of the Avenue of the Scarlet Star; it was practically a dupe, though this one had two differences that stood out to him the most: motor vehicles were allowed to drive down the Avenue of the Waning Moon, and there was no marble sundial dedicated to Tempus, chronic liar and fucked-up outcast of the Terran pantheon.
And part of the reason why Angelthene was still standing. When Darien considered the other part—the girl who’d shielded the city with her aura—he felt that glass-in-lungs sensation return.
“You okay?” Paxton was staring at him, soda can frozen in hand.
“Yeah,” he lied.
“You looked like you went somewhere else for a sec.”
“I’m back now.” He blinked. “Here, I’ll take those.” He grabbed the box of pastries from Pax’s sticky hands and got to his feet. “Get your things, we’re leaving.”
They headed out into the damp afternoon. Darien pulled up his hood and slid his free hand into his pocket, the chill in the air biting his knuckles.
“How’s your dad?” Darien said.
“You mean the tyrannosaurus rex?” Paxton shrugged his hood on. “Still stomping around, biting everyone’s heads off.”
“I’m glad to hear you’re still obsessed with dinosaurs.”
“No way, dude!” He looked up at Darien in horror, rain pelting his pale face. “Dinosaurs are for nerds.”
Darien raised a brow.
It took Paxton exactly three seconds before he caved under the scrutiny, a contagious grin lighting up his face. “I have this huge collection of old fossils and figurines!” he exclaimed. “All my friends are insanely jealous. Wanna see?”
“Later. You got a phone?”
