Page 16 of Sleeping Redemption
Attempting to gloss over my initial reaction, I added, “Do you see this dress? My hair?”
“Get on the damn bike, Kinley.” His words were soft, despite the demand behind them. Alex patted my side before turning and walking back to his bike, where he pulled the other helmet on before swinging a leg over the seat as he muttered under his breath, “No matter how much I want to bend you over it.”
Look who was feeling emboldened when he thought I didn’t hear him? It brought an amused grin to the corners of my mouth. I came to the side of the motorcycle, and Alex extended his hand for me to grab.
Giving in, I took his hand as I managed to get on the bike behind him as gracefully as possible. I tugged and tucked at the skirt of my dress, making sure it was secure as I squeezed his hips with my legs.
Alex took the helmet hanging from the handlebar and passed it back to me, and while I was convinced my safety wasn’t at risk, I knew my hair was in danger of excessive windblown knots without it.
After shimmying the helmet down over my head, I wrapped my arms around his waist, leaning forward to press myself against his back. Even with the helmet covering my face, the rustic scent of leather from his jacket and vanilla notes of bourbon lingering from his cologne hit my senses. The combination was vaguely familiar and comforting.
His hand reached back and patted my knee before the motorcycle’s deep rumble filled the air. Slowly, we left my driveway, and I took the time during the trip to try and drag my thoughts into a solid strategy of how I was going to put him under my spell. Only my brain had different ideas.
“Nicodemus,” I said, smiling at the demon standing at the top of the mountain, “I heard you had a proposition for Lucifer. All propositions go through me first and foremost to ensure they’re worthy of his consideration.”
The demon standing several feet away barely even acknowledged me as his dark eyes landed on Atlas. “Who’s this,” his lip curled in disdain, “halfling?”
I glanced over at my half-demon and half-human lover. We had been together for nearly a quarter-century, and I’d instilled all my faith in the cambion at my side and none in the stranger meeting us here.
Atlas took a step forward with a possessive growl forming in his throat.
“Atlas,” I lightly warned as my hand rested on his arm. My eyes pleaded with him to stand down.
Looking back to Nicodemus, I answered. “None of your concern. The only thing you should be concerned with is the message you wish to deliver, body-jumper.”
Oh, yes, I knew exactly what the demon standing in front of me was. Jumpers were a rare demon breed and exceptionally skilled at being near untraceable as they hopped betweenhuman hosts. The only evidence they left behind was the lifeless vessels that never survived the possession.
“What gave it away?” His gaze shifted over to me.
I shrugged. “I’ve been at Lucifer’s side long enough to recognize the scent of decay and rotting souls.”
The look on his face was either one of surprise or one of being impressed at my quick assessment. He quickly dismissed it as his hands adjusted the furs wrapped around him, keeping his fleshy suit warm. “Conveniently, that brings me to the matter at hand.”
Nico’s boots crunched against the icy and compacted snow underneath him as he walked forward. “I think there’s an opportunity for me to join Lucifer’s upper ranks?—”
“Kinley?” Alex’s voice broke through my thoughts as the bike came to a stop in a parking lot next to a small waffle joint that was open all day, every day according to the sign.
Both of us got off the bike, and as I handed my helmet off to him, I looked at the logo and sign above the unexpected restaurant.
Wanda’s Waffle House.
This was not the fine dining Italian restaurant that I had picked out.The man was considering paying me obscene amounts of money, and this was his idea of impressing me?
“You brought me to get… waffles?” I asked as I lifted a brow. I expected a restaurant that had a wine list thicker than an encyclopedia, not someplace that looked like someone’s granny opened a roadside greasy spoon diner.
I had been so wrapped up in my annoyance with Sylas’s visit that it hadn’t even dawned on me until now that he was dressed far too casually for the restaurant I had picked out and expected to eat at tonight.
He gave a grin like he had expected this reaction from me. Lacing his fingers with mine, he guided me towards the front door. “Come on, don’t knock it until you try it.”
“You said we had reservations.” Call me crazy, but I would be surprised if this place ever had a wait time to be seated even on March 25th, International Waffle Day – the best day.
“We do. They had a last-minute opening.” He smirked, clearly teasing me.
I love waffles as much as the next girl. In fact, they are one of my favorite foods, but this was only adding to the already bizarre turn of events the day had brought.
Once the hostess seated us at a booth inside the restaurant, I took a moment to appreciate how quaint it was. It allowed me to take in the sweet scent of maple syrup in the air, yeasty waffles being cooked, and a backdrop of bitter coffee beneath it all.
The vinyl of the booth cushion swished as I shifted in my seat, crossing one leg over the other. Alex removed his jacket, tucking it into the corner of his side of the table.
