“Disgusting.” His jaw worked. “It’s in my teeth! What is this zh’ūltis food?”

As he swallowed with a grimace, my laughter broke free. He scowled, waiting while I regained my composure.

“Give me a good one, vayanin. More like the first.”

“Okay, okay,” I panted, wiping a tear from my eye. “How about … orange cream? That’s like the first one.”

I passed it to him. With another suspicious glare, he bit it in half. When it wasn’t offensive, he tossed the second half in his mouth and chewed it up.

“Better.”

“Now it’s my turn.” I perused my options, then chose a large oval chocolate. “Vanilla caramel! This will be good.”

As I raised it to my lips, Zylas leaned in, his chest brushing against my shoulder. “But vayanin, you said each one is different.”

“Yes.”

“I want to try it.”

“There’s only one.”

His scowl returned. “You can eat these again sometime, na? There is nothing like this in my world.”

“Are you guilt-tripping me?”

“I do not know that word.”

I tried to frown but just laughed again. The big bad demon, pouting that he wouldn’t get to try every flavor of chocolate. More giggles built up in my throat.

“Okay, I’ll have half, and you can have the other half.” Snickering at his immediate nod of agreement, I bit into the chocolate.

Liquid caramel spilled over my fingers.

“Mm!” I exclaimed, trying to catch the escaping filling. “Here!”

As caramel ran everywhere, I stuffed the chocolate in his mouth. My fingertips pressed against his lips—and I realized what I’d done. I snatched my hand back, my cheeks burning with instant heat.

Zylas stared at me, eyes wide and shocked as though he couldn’t believe what I’d done. His throat moved in a slow flex as he swallowed the messy chocolate.

His tongue slid across his lower lip, running over a smear of caramel. “Vayanin?”

Was his voice huskier than usual? No, I was imagining it.

“Um. I … uh …” I wrenched my gaze off him and looked at my sticky fingertips. “That wasn’t … I mean …”

With no idea what I intended to say, I gave up and faced the sink.

He caught my wrist. His other hand closed over my elbow, and he drew my hand up. His warm breath brushed over my skin, and my heart stalled, the air locking in my lungs.

He held my fingers close to his lips, his eyes on me, watching, weighing … deciding. A long moment passed where he didn’t move, where I didn’t breathe—then he closed his mouth over my fingertips.

My heart restarted with a frantic leap directly into my ribcage.

He licked, or sucked, or … something … the caramel off my fingers, and all thought vanished as sensations bombarded my brain. His hot tongue against my skin. The brush of sharp, predatory teeth. The dizzying swoop deep in my center.

His eyes gleamed—different, darker. His pupils were dilated, pronounced against the glowing crimson. Pulling my fingers from his mouth, he turned my wrist and ran his tongue up my thumb, licking away a final drip of caramel. His pointed canines pressed against the pad of my thumb, pinching gently as his stare pierced me, searching, seeking …

I stared back at him, heart trembling at the base of my throat.

Hand tightening on my elbow, he pulled me closer—closer to his heat, to those eyes holding me hostage. My socked feet slid across the linoleum, the sudden movement jarring my brain back into gear—and I jerked away.

My hand tore from his grasp. A wild breath rushed through my lungs, my stunned gaze flashing across his face. The room was spinning.

I was going to faint. No—no. I wouldn’t faint. I just needed to breathe.

Or better yet, run.

I bolted out of the kitchen and slammed through my bedroom door. It hit the wall as I ran to my bed and stopped, breathing hard. My heart careened through my chest as I stared at my hand.

His tongue sliding across my fingertips.

Sucking in air, I faced the doorway, half expecting him to burst in and yell at me for being a stupid hh’ainun. A minute dragged past. He didn’t appear.

I crept to the open door. Holding my breath, I peeked out.

He stood at the counter, staring down at the box of chocolates, the fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows over his face. After a long moment, he lifted a hand and touched the edge of the box.

His tail slashed sideways—and he shoved the chocolates off the counter. They crashed to the floor, the small delicacies scattering over the linoleum.

Chapter Thirteen

A bell jingled cheerfully as I opened the pub door. A dozen guild members were scattered around the tables—more than I’d expected for a Wednesday afternoon. The mood was relaxed, but with a worried undertone. Though the threat to the guild had passed, not everyone was out of danger. No one would rest easy until all injured members, including Zora, had recovered.

As I unzipped my leather coat, I scanned the bar. A man in his twenties with greasy, chin-length hair was half-heartedly scrubbing the counter. Tori usually worked weeknights, and since she wasn’t here, I assumed she’d left on her “trip” with the three mages.

Nibbling my lower lip, I traipsed to the second level. The guild’s large workroom occupied the same footprint as the pub downstairs. Long worktables filled most of the space, with computer kiosks on one side, cupboards on the opposite side, and bookshelves along the back.

A large screen displayed a scrolling list of MPD notices and new bounties as I headed for the back corner. Only a few people were in the room, all focused on their work. I recognized a young woman, surrounded by textbooks, as the guild’s apprentice healer, Sanjana.

Slinging my jacket over the back of a chair, I pulled my laptop out of my bag. It took me almost ten minutes to connect to the printer in the corner, but finally, the machine whirred to life. Pages pumped out one after another—cases for all the missing mythic women from Portland and Vancouver over the last twenty years.

It was probably stupid, but I was hoping that looking at physical pages rather than a screen would help me figure something out. The change of scenery didn’t hurt either—especially since, here, Zylas had to stay in the infernus.

Not that avoiding my demon had anything to do with my new desire to work outside the apartment.