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Xander nods absently, his focus on the puzzle in front of him.
With nothing more that we can do here, we depart, heading to our next stop.
unfulfilled bargains
- Pen -
LeavingJohannsson behind at the Conservatory, we make our way to the Bone Yard in one of the standard-model sedans while Darius grumbles about going back for his fancy sports car.
“Stop whining.” Marc glances at him through the rearview mirror. “You don’t want to park your car near the Bone Yard. It could get stolen.”
“I’m not whining.” Darius props his elbow on the window ledge. “The back seat is just incredibly cramped. How tall are the people meant to ride back here?”
Laughing, I twist in my seat to stare at him. “The backseat in your car is even smaller.”
His fiery gaze flashes to me. “It is at least comfortable.”
He sits with his legs at an angle, pointed toward the center of the car, with an uncomfortable pinch to his brow.
I pull the lever under my seat, but it won’t scoot forward any farther. “I offered to take the back seat.”
His lips purse with displeasure. “I would never allow that. But Marceau could have let me drive.”
“My legs are almost as long as yours,” Marc protests. “This is the price of having a corporeal body.”
“I find it overrated at the moment.” He leans forward and reaches for Marc’s shoulder. “Perhaps, just for the ride—”
I slap his hand away. “No body jumping while we’re driving!”
With a huff, he settles back in his seat.
I look away from the side mirror so he can’t see the smile tugging at my lips. Darius was always so reserved as a court guard, only allowing himself to relax when we were outside of the demon citadel. It’s nice to see him acting spoiled right now.
We luck out with traffic through the heart of Clearhelm, hitting the sweet spot between the morning and afternoon rush. But it makes street parking harder.
Marc circles the block several times before he grabs a spot at the curb just as the car occupying the spot leaves.
While the wall of the Bone Yard rises to our right, it’s not the best parking spot, with the entrance to the small demon city on the opposite side. It means less chance of our car getting vandalized in what has turned into a seedy part of town, but it will be a bit of a hike to and from the entrance.
The sun beats down on our heads as we walk the block to the corner and take a right.
A greasy diner catches Marc’s eye across the street, and he pats his stomach. “Hey, we should go back there.”
Confused, I look up at him, “We’ve never—”
Darius lets out a distressed noise. “Please, no. It was bad enough the first time. My stomach isn’t as resistant to food poisoning as yours is.”
Oh, this was something they did together without the rest of us.
Marc nudges me. “Pen and I will just go without you, then, right?”
I meet his amused gaze, and the tension that was building vanishes. I smile up at him. “Can’t remember the last time I got food poisoning. Sounds like a challenge.”
Darius’s arm presses against mine, sending heat through me. “Didn’t you promise me an evening at the Harbor? You were craving a cup ofcapunis.”
My focus jumps back to him. “But you said you wanted that to just be us.”
Surprise fills his eyes, and he glances over my head at Marc. “I didn’t mean… Marceau is not someone I need to be alone from.”
