Page 25 of Grim Tidings

“What are you saying?”

She clamps her teeth down on her bottom lip, then lets it go. “Things have changed.”

“What could have possibly changed since last night?”

“I adopted a dog, for one.”

“Cute. Try again, Darcy.”

“I’m not trying to be cute, I’m trying to explain,” she says through clenched teeth. “This dog was meant for the department, but I got him out. He died, but I didn’t move him forward. I found a different way, a better way, and—” She cuts herself off abruptly, the aching look of yearning on her face so sudden and naked, I feel my stomach twist. Her eyes lift to mine.

“Gabriel, I’m not going to claim a life. I’m going to save it.”

Chapter Seven

Darcy

Another townsperson joins the small crowd we’ve attracted on the street, so we decide to continue our conversation elsewhere. Gabriel insists on going back to the bar, but I have no desire to return to the scene of the crime, so to speak. I’d much rather we discuss this at a neutral location. A place where he can’t hurl an alcohol bottle at my head when he doesn’t like what I have to say.

“I wouldn’t waste good liquor,” he says with a roll of his eyes. At my sharp look, he relents. “I’m also not going to hurt you, Darcy. Have a little faith.”

“You held a sword to my throat less than twenty-four hours ago.”

“It wasn’t at your throat. It was in your general direction.”

I stare at him.

“Yeah, okay. Fair point.” He shifts, squinting down the street while he rubs the heel of his hand against the scruff on his jaw. He nods toward a striped awning halfway down the road, an ancient sign advertising milkshakes rotating slowly above it. “How do you feel about burgers?”

“I feel fine about them.”

I actually love a greasy burger, but over my undead body am I going to admit anything favorable to this man.

“Great.”

He keeps my hand in his for the short walk to the restaurant. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s still trying to playact some sort of cover story for the town busybodies or if he’s worried I’m a flight risk. His fingers stay slotted through mine as he tugs me behind him on the narrow sidewalk and Tater Tot keeps pace, his leash looped around my opposite wrist, watching Gabriel like he’s waiting for a reason to gnaw on his kneecaps.

I entertain myself with that mental image while Gabriel jerks me around a trash can sitting toppled over in the middle of the sidewalk. He bends down and lifts it with one hand, his other still clasped around mine.

“So, you’re always like this, then.”

He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “Like what?”

“Angelic. Virtuous. An exemplary citizen.”

“I can’t help what I am any more than you can.”

We slow to a stop in front of the restaurant and Gabriel nods at a small metal table under a yellow-striped umbrella. “Grab that table, and I’ll put our order in.”

I tug my hand out of his. “Stop bossing me around.”

He exhales a short, impatient sound. “No.”

Tater Tot growls and butts his forehead against Gabriel’s thigh. Gabriel flinches, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from laughing in his face. The big, bad Guardian. Afraid of a dog.

“Please go sit at that table so you can keep an eye on your demon dog, yeah? I’m going to order.” He arches an eyebrow. “Better?”

I lift my chin. “I want a strawberry milkshake.”