Page 29 of Asher

“That’s great. What are you doing now?” Maybe he’ll have some free time, and I can sneak back for a quickie and a snuggle.

“Writing up my observation notes, then meeting the postmaster,” he says, and I wave goodbye to my half-baked plans. Garrett is dedicated to his work. I might have been able to convince him if it had been wedding planning, but not work.

“How do you feel about dinner here in Zurich tonight?” I suggest instead. “I don’t have to work late. I can come and pick you up—I know you don’t love to teleport, but—”

“Yes. Can we go someplace that has fancy cocktails? The bar here is great, but not so much with the mixed drinks.”

I grin. He’s right about that. The tavern has about fifteen different types of beer on offer, and a decent selection of wine too, but no blender and no fancy mixers.

“Of course we can. Dress up, and I’ll find somewhere special.” Some time just for us, with nobody else poking their head in or making stupid comments, is just what we need.

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

Garrett

I lookaround the restaurant Asher’s brought me to with a smile. As far as “special” goes, this place is the jackpot. It’s even community-owned, so the dining room we’ve been seated in is exclusive to our people. Asher doesn’t have to hide his horns, and the serving sizes are suited to our higher metabolisms. Eating in human restaurants is nice, but I’m always hungry and have to get more food after. They look at us weird if we order as much as we actually need.

Aside from being friendly to our kind, it’s posh, with an emphasis on theosh. Heavy damask tablecloths, sparkling crystal—in the stemware and the modern chandelier—silverware so shiny it shows my reflection. There’s a pianist in the corner providing background music, and the whole vibe is mellow, hushed, and intimate.

I smile across the table at Asher and sip the cocktail I ordered to have with our hors d’oeuvres. “This is perfect.”

His answering smile is demon-subtle, but I’ve gotten excellent at reading his expressions, and I can tell he’s pleased. “Good. It occurred to me that you haven’t left Hortplatz since you arrived, and I thought you might need a short break.”

Oddly, that hadn’t occurred to me. One of the first things we discussed with Jesse was arrangements for us to be able to leave the village, and he organized a group of demons who were willing to be called on for teleport duties while we work on a more sustainable long-term plan. Even though the road hasn’t closed yet, it’s a long, uncomfortable drive to anywhere else, so Annie and Sid have both utilized the “teleport team,” as they’re calling themselves, a few times already. I, on the other hand, have been so caught up in work and wedding planning and—if I’m being truthful—Asher to even notice that I hadn’t left.

“I did,” I agree, because the change of scene has definitely had an impact, although I didn’t realize I’d needed it. “But living in the village hasn’t been as difficult as I thought it would be. Maybe that will change over winter.”

His nod is knowing. “Probably. It’s always harder when the snow starts. Not so much on the good days, but when there’s a weeklong blizzard, it can be hard to enjoy the town.”

I’ve already heard a lot about blizzard season, and the school has an entire binder for procedures during those times, so I’m not surprised by “weeklong.” Not thrilled about it, but not surprised. From the sounds of it, the residents of Hortplatz make only minor adjustments to their lives during blizzards. It probably helps that they’re all demons and can avoid going outside, instead teleporting from building to building.

Thinking of all the snow I’m going to face over the next six months is daunting, so I change the subject.

“Zac and Micah came to talk to me this afternoon.” It’s not a happy topic, but I want to get it out of the way. Seeing the way Asher’s face sets confirms that bringing it up was the right thing to do. We need to put this behind us. “I’m convinced that they’re both extremely sorry.” Zac asked me, in all seriousness, to punch him in the face to even things out. I declined—any idiot knows punching in the face is just asking to dislocate or break fingers, or at the very least end up with a swollen hand—but we did agree that he owes me the favor of my choice, to be redeemed at any time I see fit.

“They damn well should be,” Asher grumbles, and I study him.

“Why are you so upset by this? They were stupid and careless, and yes, what they said didn’t make me feel great, but they didn’t say it to my face. They didn’t even say it to other people. We both know neither of them would ever have publicly expressed an opinion that could hurt or embarrass me.” I believe that absolutely. Not so much for my sake, though neither is the kind to deliberately hurt someone else, but because they would never do anything to harm their family. I’ve seen Asher with his cousins, and they’re a unit. They fight and pick on each other and occasionally call each other names that can’t be repeated in public, but when it comes to the rest of the world, they’ll close ranks and defend each other to the last breath.

“And yet, here we are.” His voice is cold, but I’m convinced it stems from hurt rather than true anger. “The words never should have been said aloud.”

“I agree.” I reach across the table and take his hand. His warm fingers wrap around mine immediately. It’s nice. “But they were. The guys have apologized, sincerely, and I believe they mean it. Frown at them for a few days, beat them up, and then let it go. Being mad at them is just going to make you miserable.”

His expression thaws, and he raises a brow. “Beat them up?”

“They’ll probably even let you get a few clean hits in first. Zac offered to let me hit him.”

That gets a faint smile. “You shouldn’t have said no. I’d pay money to see that.”

Chuckling, I let go of his hand and pick up my drink. “How d’you know I didn’t say yes?” Perusing the platter of hors d’oeuvres, I select something that looks meaty and take a bite. Mmm… chicken and pancetta, and some sort of cheese. Delicious.

He watches indulgently as I chew, then shakes his head. “You’d never agree to hit someone. If you didn’t do it in the heat of the moment, it wouldn’t happen. You’re too thoughtful.”

Aww. That’s sweet. I gesture toward the platter. “You can have the next pick.”

“I wasn’t aware we were taking turns.” But he’s quick to make his selection. “Tell me about the place where we’re getting married.”

“Officially, we haven’t picked anywhere yet,” I warn. My mother hasn’t called back yet.

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