Rage and Ruin(39)

My eyes narrowed as I crossed my arms. “I don’t know why you’re smiling.”

“Maybe because...” He rose, extending his hand toward me. “Maybe because I’m not trying to make it easy, Trin.”





18


Grabbing a bite to eat turned into a legitimate sit-down dinner at a steak house we’d walked by many times on patrol, much to my surprise.

Based on the amount of men in dark suits and women in skirts and slacks who were enjoying their dinners, it was the kind of place that had a dress code as fine as the cuts of steaks. Which Zayne in his jeans and me in my loose-fitted T-shirt were totally violating, but that was overlooked the moment the hostess laid eyes on Zayne. I didn’t even think the young woman even knew I was there.

I also didn’t think the waitress, who was old enough to be my mother, realized that Zayne wasn’t dining alone.

But who cared? Not me, with my belly full of juicy red meat, grilled asparagus and truffle fries. Not when seconds ticked into minutes that turned into hours while we talked about human things. No Harbinger. No demons. No duty. That all faded into the background.

I learned that we had the same tastes in music. He was an oldies fan, like me, and we agreed that half of what was played on the radio now was nowhere near as good as the music that had come out between the ’80s and the early 2000s.

While I’d chowed down on the thickest rib eye I’d ever seen and Zayne had meticulously eaten a lean filet, I discovered he’d never watched a single episode of Game of Thrones, something I was determined to rectify as soon as possible. I explained how I’d recently became obsessed with older ’90s sitcoms like Fresh Prince and Step by Step. His favorite movie turned out to be Jurassic Park, randomly enough. I admitted that I didn’t have a favorite movie and couldn’t understand how anyone could pick just one, which led to a heated discussion.

We did not have the same tastes in movies or TV.

“I bet you could quote all five hundred of the Fast and Furious movies,” I said, toying with the hem of my shirt. “By heart.”

Zayne chuckled as the flame of the votive candle danced. “‘Look, I’m one of those boys that appreciates a fine body, regardless of the make.’”

I blinked. “Come again?”

He grinned as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “It’s a quote from The Fast and the Furious. The first one, and just so you know, I stopped on Furious 7.”

“There’s seven of them?”

His eyes widened. “There are more than seven, you deprived young lady.”

I snorted as I leaned back. “Action movies aren’t my thing.”

“What is?”

I didn’t have to think about that. “I’m a sucker for funny horror movies.”

“Funny horror movies? Sounds like an oxymoron.”

“Not really. There’re a lot of them that are scary and gross and actually pretty hilarious. Like the old Scream movies—they were clever and funny. So was Cabin in the Woods.”

Zayne rolled his eyes. “Clever and horror also sounds like an oxymoron.”

My mouth dropped open. “I don’t think we can be friends any longer.”

He laughed as he picked up his glass of water and then took a drink. “Just saying.”

“And you think action movies are clever?” I challenged.

“Nope. Most are pretty mind-numbing.” He placed his glass down. “Unlike you, I acknowledge the inherent flaws in things I like.”

Now I was rolling my eyes. “And unlike you, I have good taste.”

Zayne smiled at me, and my stupid breath caught as his gaze snared mine. My chest felt as full as my stomach as we stared at each other over the flickering candle. He bit down on his lower lip, dragging his teeth over the flesh, and my toes curled inside my boots.

I’m not trying to make it easy.

Those were his words—words that couldn’t mean what I thought they did—but the longer he held my stare, the more uncertain I became. The air was chilly in here, but my skin felt too warm. My pulse was staccato, and while there was a small part of me that felt silly, like we were playing pretend at being normal for a few hours, I was having the best night I could remember in a long time—and we still had tomorrow. A day of sightseeing and just...hanging out. I was so excited for it that I wanted to fast-forward time as well as press Pause to actually savor the anticipation. Sort of like how I always enjoyed Christmas Eve over Christmas. It was the buildup, the excitement and wonder of what was to come.

A feminine throat cleared, and I jerked my gaze from Zayne’s to the source. It was the waitress. What was her name? Daisy? Dolly? Her loose blond hair looked super glossy and bouncy—and quite different from the ponytail she’d been rocking when we first walked in.

Zayne looked up with a smile. “Have we worn out our welcome yet?”

The normal answer should’ve been yes. We’d been here too long and hadn’t ordered dessert. We hadn’t even looked at the dessert menu.

That was, of course, not the answer.

“Of course not, honey.” The woman clasped her hands together, creating a rather deep display of impressive cleavage. “You’re more than welcome to stay as long as you like. I just wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything else you needed.”

“I’m fine.” Zayne looked over at me. “Trin?”

I glanced at my half-filled Coke and shook my head.

“We’re good.” Zayne glanced to where his phone sat on the table. It had been lighting up every so often, and I’d wondered who was texting him. He’d responded once. “Actually, we should get the check.” His gaze found its way back to me. “Unless you want dessert?”

“God.” I laughed. “If I did, the next stop will be Nap Town, population me.”

He gave me a lopsided grin. “Just the check, please.”

As the waitress hurried off, I cocked an eyebrow, and Zayne stared at me like he had no idea why I was looking at him. Could he be that oblivious? “What time is it?”

“Almost nine,” he answered.

“What?” I exclaimed. We hadn’t come straight here from the park; we’d gone back to the apartment, because Zayne had needed to run down to the office manager or something, but we’d been here for almost three hours.

Zayne sat back, lifting his shoulder. “Time doesn’t exist when you’re enjoying yourself.”

That was true.

He gave a curt shake of his head. “You know, I lied to you.”

My brows lifted. “About what?”

“Remember when you asked me if I’d ever wanted to be something other than a Warden?” he asked, and I nodded. “I don’t know why I started thinking about that, but I didn’t tell you the truth. I think I lied because I was caught so off guard by the question.”

I remembered that he’d said no one had asked him that before, and I was guessing that even meant Layla. “What was it?”

Zayne nodded. “When I was a kid, I... I wanted to be a doctor.” He turned his head, and I would’ve sworn on my life that his cheeks were pink. “A trauma doctor.”

“A trauma doctor? Wow.” I couldn’t help myself. “That’s a great profession for egotistical personalities.”

He laughed that laugh of his, making me grin like a fool. “Are you calling me an egomaniac?”

“Never,” I teased. “What made you want to be a doctor?”

“I don’t know. Actually, I do.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “Every Saturday morning, my father used to take me to this ice cream shop in the city. It’s one of those old-style parlors that looks like something out of a different era, and it was a tradition that I ended up carrying on with Layla.”

Expecting to feel a familiar surge of jealousy, I was surprised when all I felt was a twinge of sadness. Not because of Layla. Not because that could’ve—should’ve—been me, but because Misha and I had had our little rituals, too.

“Anyway, one time when I was there with my father, a woman ran in carrying a boy who’d been hit by a car. Blood was everywhere, and nobody moved as the kid’s mother screamed for help. Even Dad had frozen. Can you imagine that? A Warden like him, rendered incapable by an unexpected human accident?”

“No,” I whispered, though I couldn’t imagine what I would have done, either.

“And then this woman stepped out of somewhere in the parlor and just took over. No fear of the blood or that she was going to do something wrong. She knew to keep the boy’s head and neck immobile and was able to keep that kid’s heart beating until paramedics showed up. I was about six or maybe seven, and I was fascinated. I overheard her tell the paramedics she was a doctor before she started talking in medical jargon that sounded like a different language.”

He leaned toward me, pale eyes intense. “I have no idea if that kid survived, but all I could think was how amazing the woman was. I wanted to be that random person in the crowd who could step up and save a life. So, I wanted to be a doctor.”

“Did you ever tell your father that?”

“No.” He laughed under his breath as he reached for his glass but didn’t lift it to his mouth. “There’d be no point. You know that. I was raised and groomed to take... Yeah, well, you know that story. It’s not like he’d have laughed or gotten mad. Knowing him, he would’ve picked up medical textbooks for me to read. But I knew that wasn’t why I was here.”