Page 67 of Breathe Like Hell

I knew it was a random question at an inopportune time, but was my life in danger, or not?

Micah went to the freezer and got an ice pop for me, which I gratefully opened and started to suck on, tongue swirling around the coldness. Grape.

“Yes,” Mason said. “Understand that time is slightly different for immortal creatures. He doesn’t feel like he’s been waiting that long since he first saw you.”

“That doesn’t reassure me at all, because I simply don’t believe that. Why would he wait?” I shook my head, licking sweet juice off the purple ice, my lips shining with it.

“He needs an opportunity, just like we need an opportunity. This isn’t a test of firepower, but of opportunity. He knows we’d win if Micah and I were together. He’s trying to avoid encountering us like that.”

“But you let me stay with just one⁠—”

“Okay,” Micah cut me off. He was clearly annoyed at me fucking Mason on his table, but had been trying to ignore his irritation since I passed out. I did feel remorseful. “We’re not doing this. The details don’t need to matter to you, nor do they need to be understood. I can’t explain to you how the demon psyche works because I’m not one. But I guarantee you he doesn’t view the world the same way you do. You’re always safer with an angel. Aamon doesn’t want to risk trying to hurt you with one of us there when he could just wait for you to be alone.”

“And why don’t you kill him first?”

Once I asked the question, I wished I could force the words back into my mouth. I already knew the essential core of that answer, and I was making myself sound dumb. They couldn’t find him. Which was on purpose on Aamon’s part. Finding him and getting him in position was half the battle.

Opportunity.

“Because it’s not that simple. If it was, he’d have been dead a long time ago. Both of us are needed to ensure he’s correctly killed, and it’d be ideal if we didn’t have to do it in the middle of a neighborhood.”

“Mason could do it on his own, though.”

“Yeah, and I’d probably die afterwards. Is that what you want, baby?” Mason stroked the side of my face.

“No…” My eyes slid back and forth between both men. I was becoming less shaky as I ate the ice pop, artificially-flavored sweetness melting over my cold tongue. “Okay never mind. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“We’ll talk about it once we have a plan,” Mason reassured me.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

MASON

Due to a series of unusual circumstances, I was alone in Micah’s house with Dakota for the second time this week. It was easier to stay here for now than to bring her back to my apartment, even though that would’ve been my preference. He said he needed her here for some reason, despite him currently being on campus working.

She dumped her bowl of milk in the sink, then rinsed it and stuck it in the dishwasher before putting away the box of off-brand honey nut Cheerios—which she’d specifically requested. Cereal was her dinner of choice tonight.

“I wanna fuck you,” I said from where I sat at the table, watching her.

“That’s all we ever do,” she pouted.

Is it?

Maybe.

I don’t know.

“We can do other things. Whatever you want,” I promised. “I just want to fuck you first.”

“Okay. I wanna fuck you, too.” She padded over in her socks and maneuvered her way onto my lap, somehow squeezing her body between the edge of the table and where I sat on the chair. I liked when she was being agreeable.

“Upstairs, baby. In a bed.” In Micah’s bed. I didn’t say that last part aloud, though.

“We can go upstairs.”

I lifted her off my lap and set her on her feet, then stood up and started towards the stairs with Dakota in tow. At the top of the stairs, I could feel her trying to go into the guest bedroom, clearly assuming that was where I was taking her. No, baby. I kissed her as she looped her arms around my neck, already becoming pliant for me.

“This way,” I mumbled against her mouth, dragging her down the hallway.