Page 32 of Feathers and Scales

Glancing at Daxton, she observed the musings of a gambling expression on his face: eyes narrowed and lips cocked in a grin. He didn’t bother to pull out his wallet.

“How do you know I’m even carrying cash?”

Simon shrugged. “You seem like the type to be prepared.”

“All right. Deal.” Daxton stuck out his hand as if he didn’t care how much cash he had.

Simon strode forward and pumped Daxton’s hand enthusiastically. Hands still clasped, he presented Daxton with the manga as though awarding him a diploma. “Good. That’ll be four hundred and seven dollars.”

“Where did that number come from?” Daxton asked.

Simon yanked a mahogany leather wallet from his back pocket.

Izzy palmed her flaming cheeks. “Simon, seriously?”

Daxton patted his pockets as if checking whether Simon had stolen anything else before he snatched it back. From his smile, he seemed more impressed than perturbed.

She’d grown accustomed to Simon’s thieving hands long ago. Over the years, he’d learned to return her possessions right away, so she didn’t say much. Better to let him enjoy theft as a game, rather than the desperate move it had been when he’d lived on the streets. She imagined it was why he was so obsessed with the Bubblegum Bandit.

“When?” Daxton removed the cash and handed it to Simon.

“As you entered the door. You were pretty distracted.” Simon turned to Izzy with his boyish grin. “You sure you’re okay with me selling the book?”

She had rarely allowed him to sell any of his accomplishments—part of their contract—but when was the last time she had seen him this happy? “As long as he agrees to share it only with those I deem suitable. It keeps me from having to explain my story.”

Daxton’s serious gaze spoke of honesty. “You have my word.”

She grabbed her items. “Ready to go?”

A warm weight rested on her shoulder—Simon’s hand. “I know there’s research ahead of you, but please take care of yourself.”

She didn’t offer any reassuring smiles. Simon was always adamant about her caring for her human body, but she knew how hard she could push her vessel.

She absorbed the sensation for a moment before she pulled away. “If you have an immediate need of me, call.”

Simon frowned, but gave her a nod, agreeing to use her Angelic name to Summon her if needed.

Unwelcome delusions filtered into her mind. Fotios’s laugh lines were etched onto Simon’s face, and his eyes appeared like Fotios’s dusky blue.

She tugged at the sides of her cardigan and walked away with a frown. Banishing the image back to the locked compartment in her mind, she twisted the door handle. She wasn’t going to lose Simon like she had Fotios, so why had the memories crept up on her?

Izzy’s focus on Cornelius’s journal waned as Daxton drove them to the airport. Daxton’s scent filled the clean and spacious SUV with an addicting, fiery sensation, like dried peppers. It reminded her of the molecule responsible for their spiciness, capsaicin, if it had an aroma.

Worries about the Archfiend should have pressed at her, but sitting beside Daxton barricaded her against those thoughts. Assuredness poured out of his relaxed exterior yet straight posture, calming her, but a shred of anxiety wiggled in her chest.

“If you still have friends here even after irritating the chief”—Izzy bit her lip—“could you call in some and set up a perimeter around the house? It’s just the fewer people who come into the house, the safer it’ll be, and I’d rather Simon not interrogate—”

“No need to worry. I was going to ask you.”

A weight lifted from her chest. “Thank you.”

“Would you care if I made a call?”

She shook her head. “Go ahead.”

Curling her legs under herself, she hid her face behind the journal, acting as if she wasn’t paying attention.

The phone rang twice before a husky male voice answered, “Special Agent Raz—damn it. I’m all out of favors, Dyamur.”