“Either way, I don’t think we should wander far tonight.”
“Which means,” I said, my heart sinking to my toes, “we’re not going out.”
“I don’t think it would be smart,” he said, looking as sorry as I felt, “at least not tonight.”
“I know,” I said, feeling the cold of the night for the first time since we’d stepped outside.
We stood there a moment next to the dead banshee with nothing else to say.
I touched his chest. “We have to bandage that bite,” I said, his skin warm against my fingers. A swirl of black hair traced its way down his lower stomach toward a place I knew well.
Come on.” He ran a hand along my back. “Let’s get back inside. You can play Nurse Fix-it and then we’ll get something to eat.”
“Okay.” I slipped my hand into his. “But this is not a date.”
Chapter Five
We sat across from each other in a booth at the back of the bar. My crown-shaped chicken tenders didn’t taste as good with banshee spit on my shoes and creature dust in the jar on the table in front of me.
But seeing as either one of us could have gotten killed tonight, I supposed we were holding our own.
Dimitri had been pure business as I’d bandaged him up, which had been bad enough. Worse, he’d found a new black shirt.
Rather than think about the attack or our failed first date, I reverted to the most basic of womanly complaints. “I wanted to look good for you tonight and now all of this,” I waved a hand at my hair, my ruined pants, heck I probably had a booger in my nose too. It was that kind of night.
If Dimitri was fazed, he didn’t show it. “Bob told me what happened.”
“It’s awful, isn’t it?”
He paused for a second too long. “It’s really not, Lizzie.”
Right.
Dimitri shrugged his unbandaged shoulder. It was a nonchalant gesture, but I knew him too well. He was taking deep breaths and doing his best not to stare. “There’s nothing you can do to change it, so stop worrying.”
A flush crept up his neck.
Great. He was embarrassed to be seen with me. Here, in a bar full of witches. How much worse would it be when we were actually out in public?
What really killed me was that I wasn’t the type to worry about how I looked. I used to wear basic, sensible clothes. I went for tidy and presentable. Dependable. I didn’t waste time on this season’s “in” hairstyles or worry about the latest lipstick colors. Long ago, I decided the entire fashion industry was designed to make women feel insecure.
Yes, I admit it - it had felt good to slip into my first pair of leather pants. I felt powerful, sexy. But in the end, it was only a pair of pants. It didn’t change who I was.
So why did I care so much about this?
“I just wish I could do something,” I groaned.
I needed control.
And it would help if Dimitri stopped staring at my wild-child hair. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was turned on.
I found a rubber band in my pants pocket and used it to pull my hair back into a ponytail.
As much as I wanted things to be normal, we had bigger things to consider, like the dead banshee out back and exactly what kind of trouble my father had gotten himself into. Dear old dad showing up and the creature attacks had to be connected somehow.
Before tonight, we’d gone months without being ambushed. Of course we’d been hanging out at Dimitri’s villa in Greece. I tried to remember exactly why we’d insisted on coming back to the States. Oh yes, because I needed more than an idyllic life on the islands – sleeping in, sunbathing, watching the witches build small castles – literally – out of the black sand. The Red Skulls never could do anything halfway. Of course it had been hard to explain to the beach patrol.
Even that seemed like fun compared to this.
“Can we go back to Santorini?” I asked, stuffing the remains of my dinner into a Burger King bag.
Dimitri looked thoughtful. “Do you want to return?”
“No,” I answered on a
“Which means,” I said, my heart sinking to my toes, “we’re not going out.”
“I don’t think it would be smart,” he said, looking as sorry as I felt, “at least not tonight.”
“I know,” I said, feeling the cold of the night for the first time since we’d stepped outside.
We stood there a moment next to the dead banshee with nothing else to say.
I touched his chest. “We have to bandage that bite,” I said, his skin warm against my fingers. A swirl of black hair traced its way down his lower stomach toward a place I knew well.
Come on.” He ran a hand along my back. “Let’s get back inside. You can play Nurse Fix-it and then we’ll get something to eat.”
“Okay.” I slipped my hand into his. “But this is not a date.”
Chapter Five
We sat across from each other in a booth at the back of the bar. My crown-shaped chicken tenders didn’t taste as good with banshee spit on my shoes and creature dust in the jar on the table in front of me.
But seeing as either one of us could have gotten killed tonight, I supposed we were holding our own.
Dimitri had been pure business as I’d bandaged him up, which had been bad enough. Worse, he’d found a new black shirt.
Rather than think about the attack or our failed first date, I reverted to the most basic of womanly complaints. “I wanted to look good for you tonight and now all of this,” I waved a hand at my hair, my ruined pants, heck I probably had a booger in my nose too. It was that kind of night.
If Dimitri was fazed, he didn’t show it. “Bob told me what happened.”
“It’s awful, isn’t it?”
He paused for a second too long. “It’s really not, Lizzie.”
Right.
Dimitri shrugged his unbandaged shoulder. It was a nonchalant gesture, but I knew him too well. He was taking deep breaths and doing his best not to stare. “There’s nothing you can do to change it, so stop worrying.”
A flush crept up his neck.
Great. He was embarrassed to be seen with me. Here, in a bar full of witches. How much worse would it be when we were actually out in public?
What really killed me was that I wasn’t the type to worry about how I looked. I used to wear basic, sensible clothes. I went for tidy and presentable. Dependable. I didn’t waste time on this season’s “in” hairstyles or worry about the latest lipstick colors. Long ago, I decided the entire fashion industry was designed to make women feel insecure.
Yes, I admit it - it had felt good to slip into my first pair of leather pants. I felt powerful, sexy. But in the end, it was only a pair of pants. It didn’t change who I was.
So why did I care so much about this?
“I just wish I could do something,” I groaned.
I needed control.
And it would help if Dimitri stopped staring at my wild-child hair. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was turned on.
I found a rubber band in my pants pocket and used it to pull my hair back into a ponytail.
As much as I wanted things to be normal, we had bigger things to consider, like the dead banshee out back and exactly what kind of trouble my father had gotten himself into. Dear old dad showing up and the creature attacks had to be connected somehow.
Before tonight, we’d gone months without being ambushed. Of course we’d been hanging out at Dimitri’s villa in Greece. I tried to remember exactly why we’d insisted on coming back to the States. Oh yes, because I needed more than an idyllic life on the islands – sleeping in, sunbathing, watching the witches build small castles – literally – out of the black sand. The Red Skulls never could do anything halfway. Of course it had been hard to explain to the beach patrol.
Even that seemed like fun compared to this.
“Can we go back to Santorini?” I asked, stuffing the remains of my dinner into a Burger King bag.
Dimitri looked thoughtful. “Do you want to return?”
“No,” I answered on a
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