Chapter 12
Kiara
“What do you think, Jules?”
And if this isn’t good enough, I’d rather find out now.
Julius Squeezer slithers down from his current nest on the ledge of the window about ten feet above my head.
Whoever lived here before me must’ve been some sort of avian shifter, because the entire house is high ceilings with wide, bench seat window ledges perfect for a full-sized person to curl up and read if they can find a way up there, or an animal to make a comfortable nest on.
I really shouldn’t have stolen Jules from the hatchery I worked in before I ran away from home, but in my defense, his egg had been abandoned and I was the only one trying to save him.
It wasn’t until he hatched that I realized why his parents dipped out, and that it was a very good thing I stole the egg when I left.
He wasn’t a phoenix at all, his parents pulled a cuckoo and snuck their egg into one of the nests.
That, or one of the phoenixes brought it back from the tunnels without realizing.
Either way, it’s a good reminder that life throws us curveballs, and sometimes embracing them can be a blessing in disguise.
Julius curls around my leg, barely two feet long and more of an anklet than a threat. For now, at least. “You’re right.” I rub the top of his head with one finger. “Fuck Vic, it’s his loss. He’s the one that decided he didn’t want to keep me, he doesn’t get to control the rest of my life, too.”
The doorbell rings, and I untangle my leg from my pet basilisk and settle him back in his closet nest before I run downstairs.
As I reach for the handle, a flash of red on the small entryway table has me cringing.
Hastily scooping up the Final Notices, I jam them in the drawer, refusing to beat myself up for a change.
If all it took was a little over three months to fall into enough debt they’re threatening to turn off the lights, that’s a failing of society.
People up here are supposed to be civilized, but at least in the caverns I was raised, they made sure nobody went hungry.
Taxes are a racket, and you’ll never convince me otherwise. Every hour I work, someone takes a huge chunk of it, or I go to jail?
The real world isn’t the magical place I imagined, it’s just stupid.
So for one night, I’m not going to let myself worry about losing the house. All of my problems will still be there tomorrow. Tonight, I need something to remind me why life is worth fighting through all the shit for.
Devlin shamelessly rakes his dark blue gaze over me slowly, sending a shiver down my spine. There’s something in that gaze that’s familiar. Dangerous, yet thrilling. It’s the confidence of a man that doesn’t fear anything, because he knows he’s the biggest threat in the room.
He clearly tried to tame his shaggy, red and black hair, but it refuses to be slicked into submission.
He’s swapped the coat I met him in for a new, fitted leather one, paired with black jeans.
And honestly? I’m not sure if it’s the edginess of his appearance or the confidence he’s wearing like a second skin, but I can feel that part of me that died months ago perking up again with hope.
Devlin is absolutely my type; a little different, air of danger and the promise of reckless decisions that are fun enough to suffer the consequences.
But what really has my defenses crumbling?
The way he gives me his undivided attention, like he’s been looking forward to this date even more than I have.
I clear my throat, shaking off the horny direction my thoughts are taking me. “Should we head out, then?”
He blinks, shaking his head slightly before stepping back and gesturing for me to walk ahead of him. “Of course, you must be starving. And freezing. Get in the car.”
I snort. Anyone else, I’d junk punch for talking to me like that, but there’s something about Dev that lets him pull it off.
Like he’s totally confident of his place in the world, but just starting to notice that other people live in it with him.
A complete and utter obliviousness about social cues in an endearing way.
He’s direct, and honestly? I think I need that right now.
Not to have to wonder if someone’s putting on an act, and is shamelessly open about their feelings.
“Yes, sir.” I mock salute, climbing in. He cocks his head, watching me with a curious, predatory glint of interest before sliding behind the wheel and cranking up the heat, adjusting the vents so they’re blowing in my direction.
It’s different than the one he was driving the day we met, but this car seems better equipped to handle icy roads, so I’m glad he opted for function over fancy.
Weird way to spend your money in my opinion, but I know some guys have a hard-on for collecting cars, even if it’s not practical. To each their own.
“So, how long have you lived in Mercy?”
He navigates the icy streets with ease. “Around five months.”
“Oh, what brought you here?”
He darts a quick glance at me and away before focusing back on the road. “I was looking for my brother. Then the gargoyles made me an offer I couldn’t refuse, and I chose to stick around.”
Was. Does that mean he found his brother and handled some business, or it didn’t go well? If that’s the case, bringing it up right before a date feels like a terrible idea. If he wanted to elaborate, he would have.
“Small world, mine came here looking for me.” I playfully roll my eyes in mock annoyance, but there’s no real heat behind it. “Siblings, right?”
Pulling into a small lot and parking, he gives me a curious look, but he doesn’t say a word, shutting off the car.
I’ve barely unbuckled before he’s there, opening my door and offering his hand.
“It’s slippery, I didn’t get a chance to throw down any salt before it was time to pick you up. Hold onto me.”
I frown. “Isn’t it the restaurant’s job to clear the walkways?”
He tucks my hand into the crook of his elbow and leads the way. “They’re running on a skeleton crew tonight.”
As soon as we’re inside, I see what he means. The place is damn near empty, not another customer in sight. But almost like he was waiting for us, a waiter races over.
Dev feels my curious gaze burning a hole in the side of his face and smirks. “The owner owed me a favor.”
Just who the hell is this guy?
We’re led to a gorgeous table; full on white linen table cloth and vase with a fresh flower and tea lights treatment. I didn’t even know there was a place in Mercy Ridge this fancy. Most of the people I’ve met seem like the burger and fries kind of crowd.
Why would you? There wasn’t anyone trying to date you, and you weren’t exactly spending nights out on the town when you can barely keep the lights on.
Mentally flipping off the unpleasant reminder and slamming a lid on that toxic little voice in my head, I watch as the waiter returns, hands shaking slightly as he pours our waters.
Sweat beads at his temple, and he keeps risking small, anxious glances at Devlin, like he’s afraid of upsetting him.
I suppose I’d be the same in his shoes, if someone with enough influence to rent out an entire restaurant for a night was there and I was afraid to make a mistake and get fired.
I don’t think Devlin would be the type to throw a bitchfit over a simple mistake, but if he is that kind of guy…
I’d much rather he show his true colors now. Saves me a lot of time and heartache.
But as the night goes on, he’s fun. At one point, he accidentally set the centerpiece on fire and after frantically putting it out, sneakily swapped it with another table’s when our waiter’s back was turned.
He gives me his undivided attention and asks questions like he actually cares about the answers, is polite and easy going.
Until he sees something poking out from beneath my wild rice.
Before I can, Devlin plucks out the piece of paper, frowning as he shakes it out and reads it. “I’ll be right back.”
My stomach flips with nerves. “It’s not that big a deal, I’m sure it was just an order ticket that got stuck to-”
He cuts off my nervous protest with a disarming smile and tops off my glass of wine. “Don’t worry, sweet thing, I’m not going to bite the poor bastard’s head off. Just let him know so that he can be more careful in the future. Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
My racing heart starts to settle. “Sounds good.” If he’s friends with the owner, better it happened to us who wouldn’t really care instead of some customers on a busy night that would flip their lids.
I blow out a heavy breath as relief settles into my bones, watching him go.
I was worried that getting my hopes up would bite me in the ass, but I need to stop expecting the worst from everyone.
Devlin’s not Havoc. He isn’t going to reject me, doesn’t care that we aren’t fated mates.
He chose me, like it wasn’t even something to discuss.
He simply expected me to get on board and accept that we belong together.
And I’m starting to think he might be right.
The Fates may have fucked up with my first mate, but maybe this is their form of apology, pushing the two of us to cross paths. Because Devlin?
Clearly, he’s one of the good ones.