Page 20 of Forging Darkness
“That’s what I said.” She almost pulls off answering with a straight face, but then the corner of her lips curl.
“I’d say that’s a pretty good indication she’s on to you.” Ash tugs us back on topic.
Steel nods. “Right. Silver’s left the hotel right before dawn five days this week. I tracked her to a night club in an old church on the outskirts of the city, not far from where you guys found me tonight. She holes up there all day, then returns to the hotel after dark. I was going to case the place this evening, but then the circus pulled into town.”
“You were going to go to a club looking like that?” The horror in Nova’s voice is so strong I can’t hold back a sharp bark of laughter. I slap a hand over my mouth and duck my head.
Steel scans himself from his feet on up and shrugs. “So?”
He’s wearing black boots, dark jeans that look like they’re about due for a washing, and a long-sleeved thermal that gently hugs his muscles despite his slightly leaner physique.
I do a little internal shrug as well. Looks good to me.
“It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.” Shoving off the bed, Nova catches Greyson’s sleeve as she brushes by him.
“Let’s go,” she commands.
“What? Where?” But even as he’s complaining, Greyson pushes to his feet.
“To get your brother something decent to wear to the club tomorrow night.”
“Why do I have to come?”
“Because I’m assuming between you and your matching DNA strand, you’re the one toting the cash.”
“That’s not a bad assumption.”
“What?” Sterling looks to his brother. “How much cash you got, Grey?”
Ignoring him, Greyson shrugs his coat on and grabs the car keys.
“Let’s make this quick,” he says as he follows Nova out of the room.
The heavy hotel door slams shut after the pair.
“Well,” Sterling claps his hands together and stands. Stretching his arms into the air, he does a few standing yoga moves. Weirdo. “Now that our plan of action is settled, let’s order some pizza.”
Tinkle pops into the mortal realm.
“Did I just hear pizza?” Tinkle—standing on the nightstand as a flying squirrel—rubs his white-fur belly. “Because I’m sure I could eat a whole pie myself. Let’s have an eating contest.”
Steel shoves out of the rolling chair. In the time it takes me to blink, he has a knife pulled and ready to throw at the Celestial.
“Dude, that would not be fair,” Sterling says without missing a beat. Does he not realize his brother just pulled a weapon? “You’ll just transform into some crazy large beast and eat all our food. I’m not falling for that . . . again.”
“Steel, why don’t you lower the knife?” I suggest. “There’s no need for anyone to get stabby. We’re all friends here.”
“What is that?” He gestures to Tinkle with the pointy end of his weapon.
“This is Tinkle. A Celestial.”
His jaw falls open, and the tip of the knife descends.
“Take a seat, we have a bit of catching up to do.”
Chapter Eight
“Huh,” Steel reclines in his seat. “So that’s Tinker Bell?”