Page 39 of Spearcrest Devil


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“I’m not sleeping with my boss,” Nadine says. She pushes me away from her with a firm hand on my shoulder. “Don’t insult me by implying I would ever sleep with a man. I’m far too good for that.”

“You’re not missing out on much,” I tell her with a sigh.

“No shit.”

She shoves past me and crosses the cavernous space of Luca’s living room towards the kitchen. I follow her with my blanket trailing after me and watch as she makes coffee.

“What are you doing here, then?” I ask. “Babysitting?”

“You’re not a baby. You’re a mouthy grifter with a knife.”

“You’re so mean, Nadine,” I say. “I like that about you. We should go out sometime, you and I. Give it a try. If you’re single, obviously. Or even if you’re not. I always wished I had more girlfriends.”

My plight falls on deaf ears.

“Stop trying to grift me.”

Nadine pours a cup of coffee and hands it to me. I take it with a smile, looking up at her with sincere gratitude.

“Forme, Nay-Nay?”

“Your breath is foul,” she says. “Drink it and eat something.”

With that, she walks out of the kitchen.

“Treat ’em mean, keep ’em keen,” I sigh, sounding like Paddy.

Coffee in one hand, I rifle through the pantry for something to eat. Luca’s kitchen is the biggest giveaway that he’s not fully human. No bread, no tins, no biscuits, not even a half-empty box of stale cereal. His fridge is just fruit and vegetables and meat. Everything is raw and organic. There’s not even so much as a flavoured yoghurt or a jar of pickles in sight.

“What are you, a fucking rabbit?” I ask out loud, glaring at the colourful array of carrots, aubergines, and strawberries.

By the time I get back to the couch with a bag of fresh berries and my cup of coffee, I’m shivering all over under my blanket. Nadine, sitting with her legs crossed, doesn’t look up from her phone. She’s probably texting Luca as we speak and accusing me of trying to grift her.

“Where is he anyway?” I ask, sitting across from her on another couch.

“At work,” she answers without looking.

I think about his creepy club for rich pervs and his dad’s company. “Please. He doesn’twork.”

Nadine shrugs. “If you say so.”

I sigh, stuff a handful of berries into my mouth and swallow painfully. My throat feels like it’s swollen almost shut, and my chest is soggy with phlegm, every breath a wet rattle. I stick out my leg to show Nadine.

“His dog fucked my leg up, you know.”

“Yes. He told me.”

“You’re okay with that?”

She looks up. “You injured him first.”

“What—that tiny paper cut on his chest? I barely touched him. Nadine. Come on. What are you, ex-military? That was a scratch and you know it.”

She puts her phone away and leans suddenly forward, resting her arms on her thighs. “What do you want me to tell you? Youfucked with Luca Fletcher-Lowe. Were you half as clever as you think you are, you’d have known better.”

“Don’t pretend you buy into this whole myth. He’s not some devil mastermind. He’s just another rich man who thinks he’s untouchable.”

“You’rethe one sitting here with a maimed leg.”

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