“Not specifically, no. But it’s the message I’m picking up on, loud and clear. And you're not denying it, so…” She reached for the bottle of tequila, pouring a healthy shot and slamming it down in a swift gulp.
“Thought you didn’t drink and read?”
“New policy.” She stared at the cards as if they might come back to her with some other outcome.
When she finally looked up at me again, her eyes were full of a hundred questions she wasn’t asking.
I gestured for her to spit it out. “Go ahead. Ask.”
Her cheeks pinked up again, but to her credit, she didn’t shy away. “So you survive on… How do you… I mean, how does it work? You’re sitting here eating fajitas. That doesn’t do the job?”
“It’s not much different from vampires,” I explained. “I eat and drink regular stuff, but I need to take in a certain kind of… let’s call it energy… to survive.”
“So basically you need to have sex constantly or you drop dead?”
I downed another shot to keep from laughing.
Yeah, sex definitely kept the spring in my step, but I could get by for long stretches without it. In fact, it’d been a few months since I’d had the time to pursue that kind of sustenance—a partner who wasn’t prepared for the energy exchange could get seriously fucked up. But as long as people were getting down and dirty in the vicinity, my body could absorb that excess energy without hurting anyone.
Not that I’d be sharing those special little details with her.
Raising a brow, I said, “If I told you yes, would that change your plans for the evening?”
The woman didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, absolutely. I’d make you sleep outside so I wouldn’t have to get the dead body stink out of my couch.”
I full on cracked up at that. Cupcake had a way of throwing me off balance, I’d give her that.
I picked up the bottle, tipped it toward her. “You want another one?”
Gray shook her head, the teasing smile fading from her lips. The moment between us seemed to be passing. I tried not to let it get to me.
“Do you know when Ronan’s coming back?” she asked.
The question was like an ice bucket dumped on our momentary fun.
I really, really didn’t want to get into this with her. Ronan was her demon guardian—I got it. But he was already in way too deep.
And she seemed perfectly happy to let him fall.
“If you’re so concerned about Ronan’s whereabouts all the time,” I said, “maybe you should learn how to fight your own battles.”
“Right. Have youmetRonan?”
She had a point, but of course she couldn’t just let it go at that.
“He fights for me because he cares about me, Asher. Because he’s my friend. Maybe you’ve heard of the concept?”
Heard of theconcept?
Ronan and I had gotten into—and out of—more shit together, had traversed more levels of Hell together, had fought in more demonic battles together and saved each other’s lives more times than this fluffy bunny could ever hope to imagine in her short, human, blink-of-an-eye lifespan.
And she wanted to know if I’d heard of friendship?
“Sorry, Cupcake.” I shook my head. “He fights because you let him. He fights because he’s too hung up on you to know he’s in serious fucking danger. And unfortunately for him, you’re too damn selfish to notice, and too damn weak to do anything about it even if the truth jumped up and bit you right on that perky little ass.”
Hurt flickered in her eyes. I’d hit the soft underbelly with that little barb.
I sat back in my chair and waited for her to punch back. To tell me off. To put me in my fucking place, just like she’d been doing all along.
