Demon Bound

laughed and turned toward the employees’ door. Charlie stepped out of his way, then grinned at Jake, the tips of her fangs barely visible.
    Jake had been responsible for those fangs. Charlie hadn’t wanted them—but he’d failed to protect her. And because she hadn’t been willing, the transformation had almost killed her.
    Her smile faded. “You sure you’re okay?”
    “Yeah.” He set his beer down, faced her squarely. “I told you I was sorry, right? For letting Sammael get to you.”
    “Only about twenty or thirty times.” She leaned in and her tone softened. “Jake, he unloaded six bullets into your head. But you still managed to teleport, and send Ethan after me.”
    His first jump, and how he’d discovered his Gift. With his brain shot to pieces, it’d been pure fear and instinct. Not exactly the stuff of heroes.
    “As far as I’m concerned, you don’t have much to be sorry about.” She arched her brows. “But if you’re feeling guilty, there is one thing you can do to make it up to me.”
    Jake eyed her warily, not trusting the laughter in her voice. “What?”
    “Just hold still.”
    He did, then had to chuckle when she began rubbing her hands all over his head.
    “God. I’ve wanted to do that since I met you,” she said when she finished. “And Jake—you know more than anyone that everything’s good with me. Better than ever. So if you’re going to beat yourself up over something, don’t pick that.”
    “All right. I’ve got more to pick from anyway.” But he grinned. “I know I haven’t told you that you’re just all-around swell, Charlie.”
    She snorted out a laugh. “Don’t,” she said. “That ‘swell’ shit and ‘golly gee’ crap just isn’t playing fair. And . . . and . . .”
    Her gaze shifted beyond him, and Jake didn’t need to see Drifter in the mirror to know the Guardian had entered the restaurant.
    Charlie sighed. “I can’t even remember what I was saying.”
    Neither could Jake. Drifter must have stopped by the theater first, because Alice and Irena came in with him. And Jake couldn’t miss the pair of human women who sniggered into their hands as Alice passed them.
    “Jake.” Charlie gripped his arm before he could stand.
    He glanced at her, his jaw tight.
    I’d be over there, too, if she cared what anyone thought of her, Charlie gestured slowly. He and Drifter had been teaching her the sign language since she’d been transformed, but two months focusing on the theater had put her out of practice. But Alice doesn’t care. At all.
    “How do you know?”
    She told me. It happened before—a vampire who didn’t realize she wasn’t human and could hear. I almost went over the bar for it, but Alice stopped me. Charlie paused. Of course, if I could shape-shift, I’d be turning into Mr. Sexy, strutting past them, and laying one on her.
    That sounds great, Charlie—except for the “laying one on her” part.
    She covered her mouth again, laughing. “Ethan told me that you, uh—”
    “Yeah.”
    In the mirror, Drifter was pulling out Alice’s chair. Already seated, Irena turned and gave the still-sniggering ladies a look. They fell silent.
    “Or a Death Stare works, too,” Charlie said.
    He watched the reflection a second longer. Alice didn’t appear bothered. How much of that was real?
    Maybe you should give her advice, Charlie. On what to wear, at least. Something modern.
    She gave him a funny look. You’re kidding, right? Yes, they’re old-fashioned—but gorgeous. The cut, the detailing. I’d kill for any one of them.
    Jake frowned. There was more than one dress? They all looked the same to him.
    “Men,” Charlie muttered.
    Considering she then smiled up at another man, Jake assumed she actually just meant him . But at least he wasn’t paying out money this time.
    “Miss Charlie, your city is safe for one more day.” Drifter settled onto the stool next to Jake.
    So Jake hadn’t missed anything by showing up late. If it had been the nephilim, he and Drifter—along with the other Guardians here—would have already been headed back out to search for them.
    Jake nodded his response, but missed Charlie’s reply; he was distracted by Alice’s voice behind him—telling the others at the table that she’d been mistaken for the Wicked Witch.
    He looked into the mirror, surprised. She wasn’t laughing with Marsden and Selah, but her psychic scent rippled with it, warm and dark as velvet.
    “Alice mentioned that you took a