Page 28 of Vicious Luna

“Would you have any interest in taking on some more day-to-day duties?” I ask, finally breaking the silence. “Helping me out with scheduling and team management, things like that.”

He lowers his beer bottle from his mouth, nodding slowly. “The stuff Ben used to do.”

I wince at hearing his name spoken aloud, taking another swig of my own beer and swallowing thickly. “Yeah.”

Matty nods again, chewing on his lower lip. “I know I can’t replace him, but I’m definitely up for taking on a larger role here. I just want to contribute, be a valuable part of the team.”

“You remind me of myself when I was your age,” I say with a wry chuckle. “Well, except you actuallywantto be here.”

“Sure,” he replies, a heavy undertone of sarcasm in his voice.

I narrow my eyes on him in question and he heaves a sigh, setting his beer down on the armrest and wiping his mouth off on a forearm. “I never would’ve heard the end of it from my uncle if I didn’t join up. He was pretty adamant that this was the right career path for me.”

“Yeah, Matthews is diehard Guild,” I agree, picking at the label on my bottle with a fingernail as I contemplate what he’snotsaying. Lifting my gaze to him, I arch a curious brow. “So you don’t actually believe in this stuff?”

“Well obviously I believe in the supernatural now,” he replies with a quiet laugh.

“Not that,” I grumble. “The rest of it. The fear of anything inhuman and the need to eradicate it from existence.”

Matty flicks me a hesitant glance. “Honestly?”

“Don’t bullshit me, kid.”

He sighs again, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Not like the others do. Doesn’t mean I won’t do my best in the field, though. I’ll still cut my teeth and earn my place.”

“I can respect that,” I murmur, nodding. Because I feel the same damn way. Despite my father’s indoctrination, I’ve always struggled with fully committing myself to the cause. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me,” I say with a wink, and Matty’s lips pull into a grin in response.

At least I don’t have to pretend with him. Maybe the two of us can work through our doubts together; find something worth believing in other than revenge.

“C’mon, I’ve got a few things you can get started on now,” I say, finishing off the rest of my beer and pushing up to my feet. I wave for him to follow me inside and he readily complies, looking eager to get started.

14

My warden definitely has a drinking problem. It’s late when he creeps down the stairs, reeking of booze and carrying a six pack of bottled beer in his hands. He doesn’t turn on the light, and from the way he tries to quietly drag the folding chair closer to the bars-triesbeing the operative word here, since he has all the grace of a drunken elephant- I realize that he must think I’m asleep. He’s trying not to wake me. Which leads me to wonder why he came down here in the first place, but far be it for me to question the man’s motives. He’s clearly got a few screws loose.

He hisses a curse under his breath as the metal leg of the folding chair bangs against the bars noisily, and I finally give up on pretending I’m snoozing, folding at the waist to sit up in the cot.

“What are you doing?” I ask, too curious to hear why the hell he’s decided to post up outside my cell in the middle of the night.

Cam drops into the chair, fumbling to set the six pack down on the floor at his feet. “Did I wake you?” he asks, flicking me a glance.

“Nah, I don’t sleep much these days,” I comment,smoothing back my bedraggled hair with my fingers. “Since I’m being held captive against my will, and all.”

He makes a scoffing sound in his throat as he reaches for a beer, twisting off the cap and tossing it to the floor with a clink. He still doesn’t answer my question as to what he’s doing here, though. He just raises the bottle to his lips, taking a long swig before lowering it and wiping his mouth off on an inked forearm. Then, to my surprise, he reaches down to grab a second beer, cracking the top and leaning forward to stick it through the bars in offering.

His dark-eyed stare burns into mine, the shadows clinging to the sharp features of his handsome face. I’m not sure if this is some trick, but damnit it’s been a long time since I’ve had a beer. It’s far too tempting to resist. Twisting to set my feet on the floor, I push up from the cot, padding over to the bars and tentatively reaching out to take it from him. Our fingers brush, little zaps of electricity zinging between our skin.

Cam retracts his hand abruptly and I back away from the bars, the chilly condensation coating the beer bottle sliding between my fingers. Returning to my cot, I drop down on the edge, scooching back and tucking my feet up underneath me.

For a few minutes, we sit there in silence, sipping our beers like we’re just a couple of friends or something. Not a warden and a captive. Not mortal enemies, bound to destroy one another. Then again, the bars between us serve as a constant reminder of the truth; that to him, I’m a creature locked in a cage, and to me, he’s a murderous bigot. If this were Beauty and the Beast, I’d be the beast, and he’d be Gaston.This definitely isn’t a fairytale.I stifle a chuckle at that thought, taking another sip of my beer.

“What’s so funny?” Cam murmurs, glaring at me through the darkness.

I roll my eyes, the carbonation tickling my throat as I swallow. “Nothing.”

The dude probably hasn’t even seen Disney movies. Thefact that he willingly joined this misguided group of zealots doesn’t exactly screamhappy childhood.

The shadows dance across the muscle in his jaw as it feathers. “I took care of the guy that threatened you,” he rasps in a low, gravelly tone. “You don’t have to worry about him coming down here again.”

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