Demon Night

her hair to fluff it, and smiled weakly. She had completely lost the pretense that this was just a story. Was Ethan now thinking she was mentally unhinged? He was watching her too closely, his eyes too assessing.
    Why was it that nothing about him was direct but the way he looked at her?
    “Then he gave me a hundred-dollar tip, and they left,” she finished in a rush, then glanced at the time and hopped down from the bench.
    Ethan blinked. His grin was slow as he opened the door for her. Music and the heavy odor of steaks and fries rolled out. “Well, now, Miss Charlie—that may be the strangest part of your tale.”
    A tale . Relieved that he’d taken it in the way she’d intended, she returned his smile. “Why strange?”
    “In my experience, vampires that comely are as tightfisted as they are vain.”
    That was an odd bit of humor, yet strangely accurate. “Oh. Well, he technically gave it to me—but only after she said something to him. Otherwise I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have thought to leave anything at all. Probably wouldn’t have even paid for their drinks.”
    That had him rolling into laughter, and Charlie’s brow creased as she watched him. There was obviously a joke here that she didn’t understand, but she liked the sound of his amusement too much to let it bother her. His laugh was deep, his head hanging low as he bent into it. On impulse, she rose up on her toes, pressed her lips to the firm corner of his mouth.
    Then swept through the entrance with a mumbled thanks, unsure if she should be flattered or mortified that such an insignificant kiss had shocked him silent.

CHAPTER 5
    If Charlie had turned around, she’d likely have settled whatever internal argument that had set her psychic scent spinning with uncertainty. Ethan held the door wide and watched her walk across the dark-tiled floor, wishing his Guardian sight could burn through the coat concealing her curves.
    The most unexpected blows always came from the front—Ethan had learned that long before he’d become a Guardian. Though a man couldn’t see the hit coming from behind or from the side, he knew it might. Not when , but expecting that eventually it would, and so he was always bracing himself against the surprise.
    But even a light blow could knock a man off his feet when he’d been watching for it, because he figured he was prepared.
    Apparently, Ethan had figured wrong with Charlie.
    Her picture and the few glimpses he’d had told him he liked the look of her. Plenty of conversations over a wall had revealed her easy and entertaining way with a story that could draw him in or set him laughing. He’d gotten real familiar with her voice—the low rasp that often had him wondering about the sounds she’d make if he was in her deep.
    But those things hadn’t warned him about the way she could size a man up with a glance from beneath her lashes, making him hope that whatever she saw pleased her. Hadn’t warned him about the way her hair fell in a soft wave against her jaw when she ducked her chin to smile—or that when she pushed it back, exposing the vulnerable skin at the side of her neck, he’d want to unwind the necklace she’d used as protection, place his mouth on that spot, and tell her that he’d provide it for her.
    And he hadn’t known she could guard her expression as well as the wall had. Had Ethan been human, he’d never have wanted to face her across a poker table—a tell was easier to spot when it was a twitch in a blank mask. But hers wasn’t a studied or artificial expression; the emotions she chose to show were genuine enough—they simply weren’t all of what she felt, forcing him to read her psyche instead of her features.
    When he had, her interest had slipped like warm velvet across his mind. He’d sensed it before, but it had been nebulous—light curiosity about the man who lived next to her—and easy enough to ignore. Now it was strong, and reaching out with his mind as he was, her interest felt like a touch as real as the kiss that had Ethan’s fingers clenching on iron and his eyes staring after her.
    Charlie didn’t glance back, though he watched until the black-haired hostess returned to her podium and narrowed her eyes at him, as if wondering why a man would remain outside looking starved instead of coming in and eating his fill.
    Ethan let the door fall closed, leaving him frowning at his reflection through the bars. Abruptly he turned away from it, vanished the jacket