Page 61 of Kiss of a Hellish Prince

I nearly jumped out of my skin when she spoke.

“I was going to go pick up a shift at work, if that is okay?” I said, heat rising to my cheeks. I couldn’t believe I was so bad at sneaking out.

Kylie laughed, shifting the black leather bag she was carrying over her shoulder. “Of course. You are not a prisoner.”

“I thought you left a while ago for Flagstaff.” Isn’t that what Rune had told me?

“No, Sif left this morning. I had a few things to finish up here, but I am headed there now. She had no interest in interrogation before. I assume that had more to do with some fight I heard about this morning.” Her eyebrow raised in question, even though her voice made it clear that she wasn’t really asking.

“Probably,” I answered.

“Are you leaving for the same reason?”

“If the reason is Rune being a pompous ass, then yes.” The words just flew out of my mouth.

Kylie tried to suppress a laugh. “Was the fight between you and Sif, or Rune?”

“I think it was more between her and Rune. I’m just getting caught in the crossfire, I think.” I shrugged. “I’m mad at him for a disagreement that has nothing to do with Sif implying I’m a whore.”

“Yeah.” Kylie winced. “Sorry about that. She has her father’s quick temper. It’s one thing I love about her, but she definitely needs to learn how to harness that rage. I was the same way at her age. I grew out of it, she will too.”

“You admire her anger?” I asked. I knew mothers loved their daughters unconditionally, but that seemed like an odd trait to focus on.

“No, her anger comes from passion. She figures out what she wants in life and makes it happen. No matter who or what is in her way, she constantly fights to take control of any situation. She will never be a bystander in her own life. For better or worse, she takes control of her fate. I think it’s a trait that will serve her well in the future.” Kylie’s eyes unfocused, like she was a little lost in thought.

Her words stung a little. Was I becoming a bystander in my own life? I knew she didn’t mean those words to hit me quite the way they had, but they made my mind race.

“I’m sorry. Where did you say you’re headed?” Kylie asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Work. I need to get away from here for a bit. I work just a few miles away at the used bookstore.”

“The one on Seventh and Northern?” Kylie asked.

I nodded.

“Okay, yeah, that’s fine. You’ll be in public and around people. You should be safe.” She smiled brightly, shifting the weight of her bag again. “I’m going to head out. I will see you in a few days, sooner if we get any intel out of the demons in our holding bay.”

We walked to the garage together, Kylie seeming eager to get on the road. I was just looking forward to losing myself in rows and rows of bookshelves and the smell of old paper and lemon-scented dusting spray.

* * *

When I got to work, my boss immediately sent me to reorganize the shelves that had been ransacked by the little old ladies who came in weekly to buy a handful of Danielle Steel or Harlequin novels and sell back the ones they had bought before. There were so many who liked to come in, the retirement community down the street drove a bus to the store once a week.

To be honest, I loved when they came in. Each grey-haired old woman looked so sweet, and many even smelled like menthol from rubbing Bengay into their arthritic joints. They smiled and gossiped and told me about the amazing things their grandchildren were doing, but when they started talking about their stories and the books they loved, they could make a sailor blush.

I really hoped I was that awesome when I was their age. I wished I was that awesome now.

There was one member of the group who I simply adored.

Ethyl.

Ethyl refused to “act her age.” According to her, people should act like the age they felt. She then told me that was why Taylor Swift was such an excellent role model—because one should never feel older than twenty-two.

That was the wisdom she lived by.

Last time I saw her, she was sporting a new spiky pixie cut she’d dyed a vibrant blue and was wearing a T-shirt that read Blue-Haired Bitty.

As much as I loved when the group visited, they really left the romance shelves a complete disaster. So, there I was in the back of the shop, trying to sort through books and my feelings. The books should have been easier, but man, they really tore through this section like hungry coyotes.

---