with a rapt expression on her face signaling that she was drinking in every nuance of meaning. “Only time will tell. You need to enter altercations cautiously because you might do far more damage than you intend.”
Shivaun blinked slowly. That was not what she’d expected to hear.
With a frown she said, “You think I’m stronger than you?”
“I think you could be,” he said slowly, cautiously, as he began to contemplate whether truth telling was the way to go in this case. Fabrication would have earned him a heaping helping of Shy’s wrath, but that might have been a better choice.
After mulling that over for a few beats her face broke into a grin. She wagged her finger at Lyric like he was the one responsible. “That is very…”
When she didn’t immediately settle on the word she was looking for, Lyric offered, “Cool?”
“Aye. ‘Tis most excellent cool. Would no’ mind havin’ the upper hand with a relic such as yourself.””
Lyric chuckled. “You have the upper hand whether you’re stronger or not.”
Ignoring that, she said, “And I like knowin’ when you’re tellin’ the truth.”
“So you know that I’m after more than a one-night stand.”
“Well, ‘tis too late for that. This is our second date.”
The demon lips curled in the most engaging way. “That’s not what’s usually meant by one-night stand.”
Shivaun grasped the implication and blushed with breath-stealing color. Eager to change the subject, she said, “So has the musician lad made up his mind?”
Lyric’s eyes sparked at the question. He thought he couldn’t be more enthralled, but what male can resist a date who asks about his work?
“Undecided.” Lyric cocked his head. “But I’m interested in what you think about my project.”
Shivaun looked around. “Strikes me that ‘tis odd. A bar for bein’s who can fetch their own drinks by just thinkin’ ‘bout it.”
He allowed the diversion. “Most creatures seek congregation. Even if occasional. Why do humans go to a pub and order the very drink they have at home in plentiful supply?”
“I see what you mean.”
“Does your deflection mean you don’t approve of my project?”
“What? Oh.”
Lyric reached over and took her hand in his, which caused her to temporarily blank on the question she’d been about to answer. The feel of Lyric’s skin against hers felt more right than any other sensation that came to mind.
“You were about to give me your opinion on my project,” he prompted.
Her eyes drifted up to meet his. “’Tis really no’ my business now, is it?”
“Not the question now. Is it?” His thumb lightly stroking her hand as he stared like she was the only thing in the universe made it difficult to focus.
“I can no’ think while you’re doin’ that.” She pulled her hand away. “If ye wish me to converse, then leave me hand out of it.”
His tiny smirk revealed his delight in learning she was super responsive to his touch. “If that’s the choice, let’s touch and not talk.”
Ignoring that, she said, “Have you done this sort of thing before? Takin’ people to other times, droppin’ ‘em off there, sayin’, ‘Good luck. Have a nice life?’”
He pulled back slightly. “Honestly? No. It just hasn’t come up before.”
“Has no’ come up before?” She looked surprised. “As old as you are. And apparently meddlesome?”
“I’m not meddlesome.” Shivaun rolled her eyes. “Comparatively.” He amended.
“What does ‘comparatively’ mean? Exactly?”
“It means that demons are a little meddlesome by nature. I mean, it’s kind of the job definition.”
“Job definition? Are you a species or a job?”
“Well… Both?”
“I call demon double speak.”
“It’s not.” He protested. “Okay. Look at it this way. What if, instead of calling me a demon, you called me a guardian angel?”
“Then I would be speakin’ in error.”
“Not the point. The point is that it’s all about perspective.”
Shivaun burst into laughter. “’Tis exactly what a demon would say.”
“Sooner or later you’re going to have to confront the fact that you’re demon. You keep talking about me like I’m something drastically different from you.”
“You are!”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well… Partly because you’ve never been anything else besides demon.” Her eyes slanted his direction. “Have you?”
“No.” He shook his head.
“So. You were born as you are now.”
Lyric was more interested in establishing common ground between them than in delineating their differences, so he didn’t bother to point out that, yes, indeed, he was born looking exactly as he appeared at that moment. Fully formed. He’d never been younger. He’d never been older. He didn’t go through the process of learning to walk or talk. He didn’t learn to