manly staring thing, then the blond sank back onto his towel and sprawled in a pose so relaxed it was clearly meant to insult.
You’re no threat to me, his posture said.
Reed exhaled slowly and carefully, deliberately stemming his rising ire. Backing down from a challenge wasn’t in his nature, but he didn’t have a choice. Any offensive move on his part would put the blame for this unauthorized confrontation firmly on his shoulders. He didn’t need any more heat right now, not after the upbraiding he’d endured for his most recent fight with Cain.
Cain the hero. Cain the fearless. Cain the invincible. No matter how often he broke the rules, Cain always emerged unscathed, his reputation strengthened by his sheer audacity.
Now Cain had been given his heart’s desire and Reed’s sampling of her charms was rebuked, his protestations of her willingness disregarded. He, who had always toed the line without question, had rarely been given anything he truly desired.
Hands off Evangeline, he’d been told.
Tightening his jaw, Reed reached for Eve’s elbow and pulled her away. Damned if he would toe the line in this. If he had to reap his own rewards, he’d start with her.
“What the hell is going on?” Eve queried on a hiss of breath.
“A major fuck-up,” he snapped. “Where’s Cain?”
“Sleeping. And why do you two have different names? It’s confusing.”
“Eventually, you will have to change names, too. It looks suspicious if you don’t die.”
“Screw that.”
He led her up the beach. At the last minute, he directed her toward the patio of a Mexican restaurant and cantina. Festive music blared from hidden speakers and the spice-laden scent of food teased his nostrils. He heard Eve’s stomach growl and shook his head. “You haven’t eaten?”
“I haven’t thought about it. By the way, I don’t have any cash and the patio is closed to noncustomers.”
He shot her an arch glance. “I don’t expect my dates to pay when they’re with me.”
“This is a date?”
“It is now.”
“I’m not feeling it. Not after that creep on the beach.”
“He was a Nix,” Reed corrected. “And you need to watch your mouth. If I hadn’t shown up when I did, you’d be dead right now.”
“I didn’t say anything!” Eve sank into the plastic patio chair he pulled out for her. Their table was in the corner formed by two Plexiglas panels. It afforded them a view of the beach while shielding their food from the ocean breeze and sand.
“You used the Lord’s name,” he explained, taking the chair opposite her. “It’s a weapon against demons. Rarely deadly but always painful.”
“How the hell was I supposed to know that? He was heckling me. If he’d left me alone, none of that would have happened.”
“You’re ripe for the picking. An untried, clueless Mark. I could kill Cain for falling asleep on the job.”
He snorted. “Irresponsible, as usual.”
“What’s a Nix?”
He noticed she chose to ignore the dig about Cain, and he smiled inwardly. The first time he saw her, Eve had been dressed for business. Her unbound hair had been the only hint of softness about her. Her “look but don’t touch” air had stirred him, but it was the moment their eyes met that his interest went beyond merely pissing off Cain. Whoever said Asian women were shy and reserved had been smoking something at the time.
“A water demon.” Reed gestured to a waiter. “The Nix used to be concentrated in Eu rope, but they’ve since spread to most coastal cities.”
“He didn’t look like a demon,” she muttered.
“What does a demon look like?”
“Not like that. Aside from the freaky tattoos, he reminded me of a ski instructor, like he should be wearing a turtleneck and sitting near a stone fireplace at a lodge.”
“You’ve got a vivid imagination.” His mouth curved. “But those weren’t tattoos. They were details—markings that tell us about his affiliations and his status within those affiliations.”
“Like gang markings?”
“Exactly. Even in Hell there’s a hierarchy and it’s constantly under threat by warring factions. Infernals most likely passed on the practice of marking symbols into flesh to mortals.” Reed looked at the approaching waiter, a young Latino wearing Oakley shades, hoop earings, and an El Gordito apron tied around his jeans-covered hips. “Two Modelos,” he ordered.
“And two shots of tequila,” Eve added.
“That’s not going—”
“To get me buzzed? I don’t care.” She managed a brief smile at the waiter. “And a taco plate, please. With lots of salsa. The hot kind.”
“Make that two,” Reed said.
Eve waited until they were alone again before speaking. “The guy’s