AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Less than a year. I’m still getting acquainted with the town.”
She laughed. “That shouldn’t take long. It’s the size of a postage stamp. I’ve told Kane before that he ought to consider relocating to somewhere more exciting. This place is far too small for someone of his station.”
“Any suggestions?” I asked.
“Personally, I adore Vienna.”
“You’re a music lover,” I said.
Sami looked at me with renewed interest. “You, too?”
Kane leaned forward, all ears. “Do tell.”
“My grandmother encouraged it,” I replied. “Every time I hear Debussy, I think of her.” I’d learned to play the piano at a young age, but my love affair with music was cut short as my powers developed. I quickly learned that music tapped into my emotions, which influenced my powers. Now I chose my playlists carefully and refused to touch a piano. It was the safest course of action for everybody.
Kane glanced at the band. “I’m afraid my current pianist is deficient in Debussy. He was trained in the circle of hell that includes elevator music.”
Sami slipped to her feet. “I can do it.”
My cheeks grew flushed. “Oh, no. You don’t have to do that.”
“Nonsense. Debussy is one of the best ways to enchant a room without magic.”
I didn’t disagree.
As she crossed the room to the piano, Kane gave me his full attention. “Why were you willing to shake her hand but not mine?”
I shouldn’t have been surprised that he noticed. The demon had shown himself to be perceptive.
“Her hands looked clean.”
He recoiled. “You can’t be serious. My hygiene is without question.”
The truth was straightforward, except it wasn’t a truth I was willing to share. Some supernaturals were safe to touch with the right protocols in place. Kane Sullivan was not one of them.
“It’s the fact that I’m a demon, isn’t it?” he asked, as if he already knew the answer. “My species repulses you.”
“Repulse is a bit of a stretch.”
Light jazz faded to silence and the emotional sound of Clair de Lune filled the room. I braced myself and did my best to block out the song. It was a strange kind of torture. Silently, I berated myself for mentioning Debussy. This was one of the reasons I kept to myself. It was too easy to reveal more than I intended in casual conversation.
“Club soda?” Kane offered. “I’m having one.”
“Sure.”
“Lime?”
“Please.”
He filled two glasses with club soda. He slid the one with a wedge of lime across the counter to me. “Between the music and the mood, I feel like we’re about to embark on a therapy session.”
“You’ve clearly been tending bar too long if you think I’d confide in you.”
“I told you before, I do not tend bar. I only serve those…”
“Yeah, yeah. Those you wish to serve. I remember.”
“And yet you’re ungrateful.” He gestured to my glass. “This is an honor.”
