Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
S ylas could go fuck himself if he didn’t want to fuck me for all I cared. If he wanted to not only insult me but toss glares at my date, then I’d give him something to be pissy about.
Walking outside arm-in-arm with Alex, I was prepared to be whisked away to a fancy dinner where I could try my persuasive powers on him again. I had a game plan, and all I required was some intense focusing, that was all.
My feet stopped short when we got to my driveway and I saw no car. I looked at the black motorcycle with deep cherry-colored accents that looked like threads across the body of the bike. Confused as to why there was not an enclosed vehicle with things like doors and temperature control, I looked at Alex in shock.
“What’s this?”
He smiled as he pulled his arm from mine and walked to the bike, pulling one of the two helmets off the seat. “Most people would call it a motorcycle, but I call her Scarlet. It’s the color of hope.”
Extending the helmet towards me, I made no attempt to take it from him. I didn’t care if the bike was named after my favorite color or not, I wasn’t getting on that thing.
“You may as well bend me over the seat and fuck me right here because I’m not getting on that otherwise,” I blurted out, briefly forgetting that this man wasn’t under my spell yet.
Way to look like a completely normal and professional human being, Kinley.
The sarcasm of my inner thoughts made me cringe internally.
At least the shock on his face was one of sheer entertainment, so I hadn’t fucked up that badly. He hung the helmet by the chin strap on the handlebar of the bike. Alex approached me, his hands coming to rest on the sides of my waist.
Attempting to gloss over my initial reaction, I added, “Do you see this dress? My hair?”
“Get on the damn bike, Kinley.” His words were soft, despite the demand behind them. Alex patted my side before turning and walking back to his bike, where he pulled the other helmet on before swinging a leg over the seat as he muttered under his breath, “No matter how much I want to bend you over it.”
Look who was feeling emboldened when he thought I didn’t hear him? It brought an amused grin to the corners of my mouth. I came to the side of the motorcycle, and Alex extended his hand for me to grab.
Giving in, I took his hand as I managed to get on the bike behind him as gracefully as possible. I tugged and tucked at the skirt of my dress, making sure it was secure as I squeezed his hips with my legs.
Alex took the helmet hanging from the handlebar and passed it back to me, and while I was convinced my safety wasn’t at risk, I knew my hair was in danger of excessive windblown knots without it.
After shimmying the helmet down over my head, I wrapped my arms around his waist, leaning forward to press myself against his back. Even with the helmet covering my face, the rustic scent of leather from his jacket and vanilla notes of bourbon lingering from his cologne hit my senses. The combination was vaguely familiar and comforting.
His hand reached back and patted my knee before the motorcycle’s deep rumble filled the air. Slowly, we left my driveway, and I took the time during the trip to try and drag my thoughts into a solid strategy of how I was going to put him under my spell. Only my brain had different ideas.
“Nicodemus,” I said, smiling at the demon standing at the top of the mountain, “I heard you had a proposition for Lucifer. All propositions go through me first and foremost to ensure they’re worthy of his consideration.”
The demon standing several feet away barely even acknowledged me as his dark eyes landed on Atlas. “Who’s this,” his lip curled in disdain, “halfling?”
I glanced over at my half-demon and half-human lover. We had been together for nearly a quarter-century, and I’d instilled all my faith in the cambion at my side and none in the stranger meeting us here.
Atlas took a step forward with a possessive growl forming in his throat.
“Atlas,” I lightly warned as my hand rested on his arm. My eyes pleaded with him to stand down.
Looking back to Nicodemus, I answered. “None of your concern. The only thing you should be concerned with is the message you wish to deliver, body-jumper.”
Oh, yes, I knew exactly what the demon standing in front of me was. Jumpers were a rare demon breed and exceptionally skilled at being near untraceable as they hopped between human hosts. The only evidence they left behind was the lifeless vessels that never survived the possession.
“What gave it away?” His gaze shifted over to me.
I shrugged. “I’ve been at Lucifer’s side long enough to recognize the scent of decay and rotting souls.”
The look on his face was either one of surprise or one of being impressed at my quick assessment. He quickly dismissed it as his hands adjusted the furs wrapped around him, keeping his fleshy suit warm. “Conveniently, that brings me to the matter at hand.”
Nico’s boots crunched against the icy and compacted snow underneath him as he walked forward. “I think there’s an opportunity for me to join Lucifer’s upper ranks ? —”
“Kinley?” Alex’s voice broke through my thoughts as the bike came to a stop in a parking lot next to a small waffle joint that was open all day, every day according to the sign.
Both of us got off the bike, and as I handed my helmet off to him, I looked at the logo and sign above the unexpected restaurant.
Wanda’s Waffle House .
This was not the fine dining Italian restaurant that I had picked out. The man was considering paying me obscene amounts of money, and this was his idea of impressing me?
“You brought me to get… waffles?” I asked as I lifted a brow. I expected a restaurant that had a wine list thicker than an encyclopedia, not someplace that looked like someone’s granny opened a roadside greasy spoon diner.
I had been so wrapped up in my annoyance with Sylas’s visit that it hadn’t even dawned on me until now that he was dressed far too casually for the restaurant I had picked out and expected to eat at tonight.
He gave a grin like he had expected this reaction from me. Lacing his fingers with mine, he guided me towards the front door. “Come on, don’t knock it until you try it.”
“You said we had reservations.” Call me crazy, but I would be surprised if this place ever had a wait time to be seated even on March 25 th , International Waffle Day – the best day.
“We do. They had a last-minute opening.” He smirked, clearly teasing me.
I love waffles as much as the next girl. In fact, they are one of my favorite foods, but this was only adding to the already bizarre turn of events the day had brought.
Once the hostess seated us at a booth inside the restaurant, I took a moment to appreciate how quaint it was. It allowed me to take in the sweet scent of maple syrup in the air, yeasty waffles being cooked, and a backdrop of bitter coffee beneath it all.
The vinyl of the booth cushion swished as I shifted in my seat, crossing one leg over the other. Alex removed his jacket, tucking it into the corner of his side of the table.
My eyes trailed over the sight of him, his dark blonde hair not quite a light brown. Even after being in a helmet, it managed to stay securely fashioned in a small pony behind his head.
A light layer of stubble grew in on his face, accentuated even more so by the way his mouth tilted up in a tender smile. He sat back against the booth, extending one arm along the top of the seat while his other hand rested on the table in front of him.
Taking the opportunity that presented itself, I readied myself as I reached over to take his hand. His soft gray eyes followed my actions. Cradling his hand with both of mine, I caressed the back of his hand while maintaining eye contact.
The summoning of my charming powers traveled through me like a wave of sunlight in my veins, slithering its way down both my arms and out of my fingertips into the hand I held. Perhaps I had been too easy on him this morning at the coffee shop. This time I would be sure to pour more energy into my efforts and increase the intensity.
My power sought out his free will, overflowing from my body and soaking into his. Worst case, I overdid things, and he would follow me like a lost puppy dog for the remainder of his human years.
Alex didn’t make a move, he just silently watched and waited.
Time to test the waters. “About the contract,” I began. “After careful consideration, given the amount of maintenance and upkeep, I’m going to require a five-year contract with a substantial fee for ongoing support and services.”
“You drive a hard bargain. Here’s my counteroffer. I will sign a one-year contract, and in lieu of the monthly fee, I will take you out once a week.”
I shoved his hand away from me.
What the fuck?
I wasn’t sure if I was more offended that my persuasion hadn’t worked or that he thought he could negotiate dates into this business deal. While I had done my best to maintain a neutral front this morning, I wasn’t nearly as put together this go around.
There was the slightest tug of smugness at the corners of his mouth, and I damn near took the rolled silverware and stabbed him with it. Lucky for him, a waitress approached our table, and waffles begged to be ordered.
“What can I get for ya, folks?” the plump woman in a blue dress asked as she pulled out a pad of paper from her white apron and a pencil from behind her ear.
Not bothering to acknowledge her, I spat out my order. “One of every type of waffle on your menu.”
Alex raised both brows and chuckled. “There’s no way you’re going to be able to eat the better part of twenty waffles.”
Bitterly, I responded, “You’d be amazed at what I can pack away.”
“Whatever you want, angel.” He looked at the waitress and smiled. “One of every waffle it is. Thanks.”
The waitress didn’t even write anything down on her notepad before she stuttered, “Oh, okay. Um, sure. I’ll go put that right in.”
Once it was just the two of us again, I stewed in my irritation as my leg bobbed up and down. I determinedly went through all the possible scenarios that would explain why my abilities weren’t working on the man in front of me.
There was a heavy silence between us during the wait for the kitchen to pull together the massive order. Alex tried to make small talk, most often with me responding with simple nods or shrugs. The whispers of violence echoed inside my brain wondering how one breaks an already broken toy.
When the plates began to take up space on our table, I immediately dug into eating my feelings. My fork stabbed bite-sized pieces of the crispy rounds, trying a little bit of each variety on display before me. They came in various combinations from sweet to savory. A large portion had fruit toppings, others had confectionery toppings, and then there were a few waffles that had savory toppings like hot honey fried chicken or were stuffed like the one with a jalapeno-cheddar filling.
“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?” he finally asked after polishing off one of the half-eaten waffles I had shoved to the side.
A mental image of Alex’s blood filling up the little nooks in my waffles was a satisfying thought if it wouldn’t be a disservice to the incredibly delicious waffle.
My tongue snaked out and ran over my upper lip to capture any escaped whipped cream before responding, “Nothing is bothering me.” I was quite comfortable with my violent thoughts, thank you very much.
He looked way too relaxed after my answer, like all of this was somehow normal. “You sure? The way you’re looking at those waffles is making me think twice about dessert.”
“Dessert? After all this?” Unless his idea of dessert was getting us both off, I couldn’t fathom adding anything else to my stomach.
He nodded at me before reaching over into his jacket, pulling out a small white box with a gold ribbon neatly tied on top. “It’s not much, but I figured you might enjoy these.”
I set my fork down on my plate, eyeing the fancy container suspiciously as he slid it across the table toward me. Taking the box, I removed the bow and pulled off the lid. Nestled inside in little gold foil wrappers were four dark chocolate truffles. From the differing exterior coatings, it looked like there were four different flavors.
“Since I couldn’t coordinate a trip over to Belgium on such short notice, I figured I’d do the next best thing. Belgian waffles. Truffles from Belgium. I was going for a theme, I guess,” he said bashfully before shrugging.
My mouth watered at the chocolates before me, one of my guilty pleasures that usually tamed even my foulest moods. To top it off, truffles from Belgium were the only truffles worth eating. I hadn’t been there in years; it used to be one of my favorite places to visit with Atlas before he…
I looked up at Alex, at a loss for words which was wholly uncharacteristic of me. As my eyes met his, a series of vivid memories flooded my brain. His face – Atlassian’s face.