Page 37 of Dead Vengeance

There are so many thoughts racing through my mind right now that I can’t begin to put all the pieces together.

How did it hurt me? Why was Jem there? How does that thing know about Jem at all? And why, above all of this, do I still feel like Archer’s not telling me everything he knows? Even while he sits there trying to talk me out of coming back, all while asking me to come back?

“I insist on doing it,” I reply, my heart seizing on the opportunity—not just to keep this job, but to find the answers to the billions of questions I have.

He nods, slow and solemn, watching me carefully. “But I really think—”

“Duly noted. Thank you for your concern, Mr Gravely. I’ll be at your house, nine a.m. sharp, just like today.”

He gives another small nod, but more final this time. “Okay, then. If you insist. I’ll have pastries.”

The word throws me, and I do an actual double take. “Pastries?”

“Pastries. For breakfast.” He shoots me a stern warning look. “Don’t eat before you come.”

“You’re making me breakfast?”

Fuck, look at that smile.

Who knew the Archer of five seconds ago, who I thought was about to fire me, could conjure up a bashful smile like that. “I like to bake. So, if you like to eat…”

“I love to eat,” I pretty much drool at him.

“Then I’ll cook for you,” he says softly.

As the offer sinks in, something fresh sparks in me. Some tickle that seems to radiate out from my chest, reverberating through the air in my lungs, tingling to the tips of my fingers.

It’s not, wow, this guy looks like a model (which he does). It’s not, damn, he seems to have his life put together (except for the ghosts) and that’s so impressive. It’s not even, it was quite sweet of him to lock me away from an angry ghost and keep me safe today (which he did).

It’s a crush.

Plain and simple, true as the light of day, I have a crush.

I have a full-blown crush on Archer Gravely.

It’s a rushing-dopamine crush that switches my brain off, makes me scramble for the nearest thing I can say to him about going back to his house to have pastries with him tomorrow. “Can I touch your bird?”

He stares one long moment, then breaks into laughter, loud and delicious, and his smile is about as handsome as they come. “He’s not my bird. But I’m pretty sure he’d like a pet from you.”

From me? Specifically me?

I wonder if Archer would also like a pet from me.

Is that why his voice sounds so sexy?

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow,” I shove out, before I do something mad and let him know how I’m feeling.

“All right, Liam.” He leans a little closer, and it’s like he pins me to the seat with those amber eyes of his. “Sleep well, okay?”

Well, fuck. I will now.

“Mmhmm.” I fumble at the door handle, and reality somehow turns less real than it was at the hospital. The outside world flies past as I disappear down the side of a building, working my way through the back garden and around to my crappy council flat.

I see nothing but Archer’s eyes as I punch the code for the door and it clacks open. No stairwell and stale smell and hoping I avoid the weird neighbour in number five. Not much of anything but Archer and more Archer until I open my own front door and come face to face with my mum’s furious eyes.

“Where the hell have you been?”

“I, um…” I’m so taken aback by the outburst, by the slam back into my real life, that it takes me a moment to answer. When I do, it comes out too defensive. “Work! Where do you think I’ve been?”