In the shadows, Xander’s outline nodded. “Busy day? Or hard day?”
We didn’t talk like this. We didn’t talk at all. “Yes,” I answered, in the affirmative to both. The admission added an extra ten pounds of gravity to my body. I was bone tired and hungry as hell. I had to readjust my grip, the sword seeming impossibly heavy as well. Or was I getting weaker?
Was I getting weaker aroundhim?
The moment of pause between us was heavy and long.
“Me too,” he said in a low voice.
I could hear it. His voice sounded like it had been dragged over a long road of gravel and ash. He was either exhausted, in pain, or both.
He gestured to a chair off to the side of me. “Why don’t you take a seat and eat something before we get to business?”
I looked at the chair, then back at him.
“I’d prefer you have all your strength if you are going to kill me properly today,” he said. My cheeks heated, knowing he referenced my double stab mishap.
Before I could tell him we should just get on with it, my stomach took that moment to emit an obnoxious gurgle. One corner of his lips curved up.
Though I’d rather stab and run, something told me he also needed a moment before we got to business today.
Before he died today.
Yep, my life was really fucking weird.
“Okay,” I conceded, and went to settle in the single metal chair against the wall and opened my lunch tote. I pulled out a container of sliced apples. As I chewed, the awkwardness of the situation began to creep in on me. Usually I don’t mind silence, but something about it seemed so wrong right now.
“Whatisyour job?” Xander asked, breaking the silence and granting my wish. For a moment I wondered if he was a god who could read my mind.
Pickles, pickles, pickles.
Okay, if he could read my mind, he certainly would have reacted to the barrage of pickles spewing from my brain at him. I figured I was safe.
Swallowing my bit of apple, I said, “I work for Grim. I’m head of his hotel security.”
Then I wondered if he knew he was at the base of a hotel. Did he know what a hotel was? He said he’d been imprisoned for a thousand years. Maybe he had no concept of time or space.
“What?” he asked.
“What what?” I asked back.
“You have a look on your face, like you want to ask me something.”
Pickles pickles pickles pickles.
Nope, guess he really did just read my expression.
“Do you know what a hotel is?” I asked.
He barked out a laugh. It wasn’t like his usual broken, crazy laugh that set my teeth on edge. It was sardonic, and I liked it. “Yes, I know what a hotel is.”
“Oh.” I crunched into another slice of apple.
“You’re still frowning,” he said.
My hand instinctively reached up to touch my forehead. “Am I?”
“You have more questions.”
