Page 29 of Demon Hunter

“Just go with it. I’ll explain later.” Ian grins at his bestie and mouths, “Thank you.”

Still off his game, Marc says, “I’ve heard good things about San Francisco.”

“And I don’t think we’ll push our luck any more today,” Ian declares. “Bro…” He grabs Matt in a hug and they compete to see who can squeeze the hardest. “Glad you’re not dead.”

“Me too. I’m the smart half of our brain.”

When they finally let go, I’d swear they’re both a little teary-eyed.

“Call when you get back to Dylan’s place,” Ian orders. “We’ll come up for that visit in a couple of weeks, but in the meantime, Operation: What the Fuck is Going On is full systems go.”

“That’s a stupid name,” I tell him, and he shrugs.

“Come up with something better.”

I already have, and if he’d checked his email recently, he’d have seen the details. So I just smile smugly.

“I’m bored,” Marc announces, and then they’re gone.

Matt swears. “I fucking hate when he does that. Just poof! Aren’t there supposed to be lights or noises or something? A breeze?”

“That’s what I thought,” I agree. “But there’s nothing. You’re just… there. In the new place. Like… street, hospital.”

Wincing, he reaches out and touches his pinkie to the side of my hand and, when I don’t pull away, twines our fingers together. “Sorry I was an asshat.”

“You get a pass this once because you’ve been through some stuff. Next time, I’ll make you regret it.” Last time he pissed me off, I rigged his phone alarm to go off every thirty minutes for a whole day and locked it down so he couldn’t cancel it. He sent me a groveling telegram (it’s like a singing telegram, only with lots of groveling) and twenty bags of Doritos, my preferred work snack, to make up for it, and the next time he saw me in person he begged for forgiveness very nicely.

He must remember that, because he nods solemnly. “I’ll remember.”

I look around at the miles of empty desert around us. “Ready to go? We’ve got a drive.”

“Let’s hit it. But first, did you guys remember to get me clothes? Because my ass is totally hanging out right now, and it’s not as fun as it sounds.”

I snort. “In the car. Change, and we’ll go.”

The official report to the Collective is that Matt isn’t as severely injured as the doctors first thought, but he’ll be spending the next few weeks recovering in my care, since I work from home full-time anyway and my place is closer to Reno to move him to. That lets his brothers get back to work but keeps fully healed Matt out of the spotlight for a while. It also means he can devote all his time to helping me work out the how, why, and who of the attack.

We’ve been on the road for an hour, Matt driving and bitching half-heartedly about not having his kit while I try to get some work done on my laptop, when Matt yelps and the car swerves sharply.

“What the fu?—”

“I know you can drive better than that, boy,” a thousand-year-old ghost barks from the back seat, and I slowly turn to look at Norval.

“I think you startled him. Hello, by the way.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “Hello? Is that all you have to say for yourself? I expected better from you, Dylan.”

“Me?” What the fuck? “What did I do?”

“When a man is courting, he should be open about it,” Norval lectures. “That means talking to his sweetheart’s family. I knew that scoundrel demon wouldn’t do the right thing, but you…” He shakes his head. “I’m disappointed.”

He’s disappointed? I’m speechless.

“Uncle Norval, please stop,” Matt begs, glancing into the rearview mirror. “Dylan and I decided to see how things went before telling people because we didn’t want to make anything awkward with the family if it didn’t work out.” The lie rolls smoothly off his tongue, surprising me. He’s usually a shitty liar. “And anyway, my love life is my business, not my family’s.”

I wince. That was a mistake.

Norval gasps. “I didnothear you correctly, Matthias Simon Coates!”

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