Page 8 of Lessons with the Mothman

"Can I walk you out to your car?" I offered. I'd seen the thing roll up and park from where I'd been standing by the window earlier—a plain and old but serviceable model that seemed to be well cared for.

Aside from her hair, she isn't very flashy, is she?My wings rustled self-consciously.

Victoria hesitated for a moment and then nodded, stepping back from the table and waiting for me to round it and meet her. She was uncomfortable, and I wasn't sure if it was nerves, or if it was something I had done.You flirted with her when she asked for academic help.

"I have you to thank for this working out," she said, hands sliding into her jean pockets as we exited the room. I held the door for her, and she walked through without pause, used to the courtesy.

"Astraeya has you to thank for giving me a task that actually interests me," I said.

She kept her stare forward, but subtle shifts and twitches around her eyes and mouth revealed the racing thoughts she kept hidden. "You aren't interested in your…usual work with the Agency?" she asked.

I glanced over my shoulder and flashed the ever watchful Juno a fanged smile. "On the contrary, sex always interests me. And yet, at the same time it can become…monotonous," I said, lowering my voice as we entered the lobby. We were walking too fast. We'd be at her car before I learned anything at all about this woman.

"I'll want you to explain what you mean by that," Victoria said, lifting her chin and meeting my gaze at last.

An opportunity. I nodded and bent slightly, trying to hold onto this brief moment of connection. "Gladly. Are you free tonight?"

Little lines of flame rose above her eyes in surprise. "Tonight?"

"I own a bar, Nightlight, in Wicker Park. We can speak more there. You can tell me what research you've started, and where you'd like to explore next."

I hadn't clearly read the tension in her before, I realized, because it released now, shutters opening in her eyes to reveal anticipation and pleasure—relief too. It would be a challenge to wage a seduction while remaining professional…perhaps impossible. I tried to adjust my expectations in my mind. Victoria Dempsey's project interested me, with or without the potential of romance. Better not to alienate her with unwanted advances.

"That would be perfect, thank you," she said, straightening with a hint of a smile.

I would simply keep my eye out for any hint ofwantingadvances.

Victoria drew back,frowning slightly at the drink I'd slid across the counter to her.

"I didn't order anything yet," she said.

I'd taken a train back into the city and then flown to Nightlight, and I'd still managed to beat her time in traffic. I'd spent an excruciating half hour laboring over what drink to make her, realizing upon arrival that I'd gotten little to no sense of her as a person, less even than what Hannah generally offered. I'd settled on a sidecar, the rich color reminding me of her hair. Her response would at least give me a sense of what direction to go in if I'd guessed wrong.

"I hazarded a guess," I said.

She reached back, freckled arms hefting a mass of wild russet hair off her shoulders, orange lashes tipped with gold fluttering shut for a moment as the bar's air conditioning rushed over sweat dewed skin. She smelled like salt and cloves, and it was a struggle to keep my wings from ruffling impatiently. She sighed,dropping her hair once more and reaching for the drink I'd made her, twirling the glass by its stem.

"Why did you agree to help with my study?" she asked, staring into the amber liquid.

"I did more than agree. Idemandedthe privilege," I said, lips curved to their perfect angle.

Her stare flicked up, guarded and slightly narrowed, and my smile faltered. "Same question."

An unfamiliar prickling teased its way down my back—caution, yes, but excitement too.

"Not very many people would consider what I do with the Agency as problem-solving, but I do," I said, watching some of the wary shutters of Victoria's gaze crack open with interest. "I don't take cases where the problem is simply sexual relief. That's too…easy."

Her lips twitched with a hint of a smirk. "Too skilled, are you?"

I shrugged. "It isn't really about skill. It's about observation—paying attention, noting and repeating what works, actually being able to read a person's body language accurately, and understanding that while there are patterns, language isn't necessarily universal. Your species is curiously contrary. You lie more than others."

"I've heard fae don't lie," she said.

"Not outright," I agreed. "We work our way around a lie."

Her head tipped as she raised the glass to her lips, and I pretended to scan my attention around the bar, turning my head but keeping my inscrutable gaze on her as she sipped. Her lips pressed flat, jaw ticking slightly, and her tongue flicked out to lick away the remnants. There was no flinch, but she didn't like the drink. Too sweet, I suspected.

"So what cases do you take?"

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