Page 10 of Phoenix Falling
No one had ever called me a foodie, obviously. My tastes ran more along the junk-food staples line. And sweets. Definitely sweets.
“Here you go.” Raine passed my vanilla-bean latte over the counter. “Let me see if Jack can take over for a few minutes.”
I saluted her with my cup. Usually Raine tried to grab a break whenever I showed up. Luckily the coffee shop was mostly empty today save for a group of chatty women toward the back, their noise filling the room with a joy that was foreign to me. I couldn’t remember a time when I wasn’t on my guard, even when I came to see Raine. I waited for my friend and watched the group, trying to decipher the puzzle of their interactions with each other, what made them so happy. I was still short half the pieces by the time Raine returned, tugging her apron over her head with one hand while holding a coffee cup and small paper bag in the other. We took the couch situated below the front window. Raine set her cup on the small table at her elbow and delved into the bag.
“Cookies?” I asked, the word a touch greedy.
She snorted. “What else?”
A snickerdoodle was deposited into my hand. “I love you.”
“Only because I feed you sweets.”
“Well, not only because of that.”
The cinnamon from the cookie perfectly complemented my vanilla-flavored coffee. I savored the two as Raine sipped her coffee and stared out into the dripping dawn. Silence came easily to both of us. Until recently the only contacts I’d had in my life were online. Oh, someone passed through every once in a while—they had to given how long I’d lived, right?—or I’d meet someone for business. But meaningful relationships? No.
I’d connected with Arik online many years before, but it wasn’t until I’d met him in person almost a year ago that I’d realized exactly what he was. One meeting was all it took. By then I was too caught up in my one and only physical relationship with a man to care if he was human or not.
And then there was Sun. I didn’t understand his specific role in the Archai, but he was definitely Cale’s superior, and I’d gathered enough to know he was part of the brains leading their soldiers. He was certainly smart. And cagey. He’d treated Cale like a kid brother while hiding all emotion behind a steely facade I’d never been able to penetrate. Not that I’d tried too hard, not in person. After all, he’d thought I was fucking his buddy all that time. At least until the blowup with Arik and the rescue of the women in the Anigma compound. After that, I’d dropped out of sight for a while, licking my wounds and attempting to get my head on straight. There were too many enemies in this town for me to continue to play as fast and loose as I had been for far too many months.
So now, here I was. Sober, so to speak. Or at least no longer addicted to a particular silver-haired vampire while pretending to sleep with another one and ignoring a growing attraction to a third.
Unfortunately, with Sun’s focus entirely on me—the real me—I was very much afraid that ignoring him was going to become impossible very, very quickly.
Guess my brain was still working through it all, huh?
A burst of laughter from the back of the room drew me out of my thoughts.
“What makes them so happy, do you think?”
I turned at Raine’s question. Her eyes were narrowed, staring at the group of women. Puzzled.
“What do you mean?” I didn’t have to ask; I already knew. But maybe talking would tell me what else was going on inside that head of hers. Maybe then I wouldn’t be afraid for her anymore.
Not likely, but one could hope.
“I was raised in foster care, then a group home.”
Unlike me. I’d had an actual family, though I hadn’t gotten to keep them long.
“We never laughed,” Raine said. “It was like the gray walls we were raised inside seeped through our skin and became our own personal prison. Walling us off. Keeping us apart.”
Time did the same thing.
Raine’s mouth twisted. “Maybe that’s why I’m like this.”
“Like what?”
She shrugged. “Only good for vampire bait.”
“Hey!”
The word came out sharper than I’d intended, throwing a sudden hush on the group we’d been watching. I ignored them. “Look at me, Raine. Look at me.”
She finally did. I tried hard to breathe through my anger.
“I lost my sister,” I said harshly. “Remember?”
