Page 20 of Take

The clatter of plates plopped down on the table. “Need anything else, sexy?” The waitress asked, ignoring me standing there.

Jasper was still staring at me waiting for my response and didn’t acknowledge the waitress. “You going to sit?”

“You going to give me something?”

His jaw clenched and then he let me go, leaned back and half-grinned. “Sure. I’ll give you something.”

I glared. “Jasper.”

“Fine. Sit down.”

The waitress looked between us. “Is there a problem?”

I sat and quirked a half-smile and so did he. He reached for a napkin. “We’re good, thanks,” he said to the waitress without looking at her and she walked away. “Eat up, sunshine, and I’ll tell you what I know.”

I gestured to the all the food he ordered. “I’ll become a hippo if I eat all that.” I wasn’t afraid to eat, but the amount of sugar on the plates in front of me was like slapping a tub of lard onto my butt.

“Angels can’t be hippos. Won’t happen.”

I couldn’t keep back the twitch at the corners of my mouth. “Why not?”

“’Cause a hippo is a mean fucker. Angels aren’t. And I’ve decided you’re an angel. With issues of course. You know the ones, stuck on earth in limbo because they shot some guy in the thigh.”

This time I couldn’t control the smile as I shook my head. “That’s ridiculous.”

He chuckled and a rare bubble of laughter rose in my chest. He chin-lifted to the plate. “Eat. Don’t know when we’ll be stopping again.” He took a bite of a sweet roll and powdery sugar sprinkled onto his plate.

I wrapped my hands around my coffee mug and lifted it before blowing a stream of air on it then took a sip. When I went to put it back down, Jasper’s eyes were on me. He quickly looked away and it was the first time I thought he looked uncomfortable. It was surprising and even more surprising that I liked his eyes on me. I liked him watching me as if . . . as if I was more than a job. More than a woman he wanted to fuck.

After a few minutes, he started talking, keeping his voice low, although there was no one at the booth next to us now. “Adrian runs a . . . quiet organization.”

“Secret?”

He nodded. “It’s for jobs that are . . . different.”

“So, he breaks the Scars’ laws?”

Jasper bit into a piece of toast then tossed it down on the plate and leaned back against the green plastic backrest. “More like looks after situations he doesn’t feel should be brought to the Deaconry. That should be dealt with internally.”

I’d been taught by my Talde about our history and knew how we lived by an oath to the Goddess who created us to uphold the laws. By the sounds of it, this Adrian guy and his organization was finding a way around them. “But how did he know someone was after me? And if you and Xamien didn’t tell anyone I’m a Healer, then how does anyone else know?”

“Don’t know that. Adrian has connections, lots of them, and he knows shit is going down before anyone else. My guess . . . that is how he heard that someone was looking for you.”

“And you don’t know who or why?”

“No, I don’t know who. All I was told was he was a Scar and can Trace.”

A wave of fear went over me as I thought of Drake. No. It couldn’t be. How could he find me? Why now? It couldn’t be him. His lungs required healing and he wouldn’t have survived all these years, and if he did, he’d be weak and wouldn’t be able to Trace. He needed healing in order to use that ability.

He met my eyes, unwavering, dark and swirling. He took a sip of his coffee as the waitress came over, cleared away our plates and placed a bill on the table. The girl hesitated at the table, and Jasper for the first time looked at her and then grinned. The girl blushed and I scrunched up my nose with disgust. Jasper saw it and it was that deep graveled laugh that had my stomach flip-flopping.

I waited until she moved way before I asked, “Does Xamien know about Adrian?”

“Nope.”

“Waleron?” His mother was one of the original Scars from Zugarramurdi and from the one time I met him . . . Waleron was powerful.

“Waleron knows pretty much everything.”

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