the left. After zipping it up to just under her clavicle, he stepped back and took a look. The baggy jacket made her look like a kid. She was anything but.
“Better?” he signed.
She hugged herself and nodded.
“Then let’s eat,” he said, hungrier than ever. Only, no longer for food. He was such a perv.
Chapter Seven
I’m 99% angel,
but ohhhh, that 1%.
—T-shirt
She was such a perv. She couldn’t stop glancing in Quentin’s direction every few seconds. He walked like a predator, his gait smooth, his gaze ever watchful. What had he become? How had he transformed so much in just a few short years? And he was now a seasoned demon hunter? How did one become a seasoned demon hunter? How did one become a demon hunter at all? She hadn’t even known that was a real thing.
After motioning for Dora and Kyle—who’d been standing off to one side, keeping watch—to join them, she followed Quentin to the Mine Shaft Tavern and Cantina. The minute they stepped into the cavernous place, a pretty redhead taking a large group’s order seemed to recognize Quentin. She stopped and made a point to smile at him.
He probably gathered fans wherever he went. He’d always been gorgeous, but that attribute had somehow intensified tenfold. He was rigid and complex and confident, yet a sweetness lay just below his hard surface. She’d sensed it instantly. Wanted to drown in it. Missed it like she’d missed baklava that time she gave up sugar.
Then again, he’d almost crushed her larynx not thirty minutes ago. So, there was that.
She was a veteran of the supernatural realm, however. She knew enough about it to recognize that something had come over him. The question was, what? What had he gotten himself into?
They sat at a corner table. The place was brighter than she remembered, but it had been a while since she and her friends had visited the dusty, eclectic town. The Tavern bar had the same log-cabin feel, and the tables were the same heavy wood designed for the wear and tear of an active cantina. The local favorite was famous for several things, but their margaritas and green chile cheeseburgers were among the top.
Fortunately, the table they sat at had four chairs. She pulled out the two spare seats for Kyle and Dora, then took one that faced the bar. The place was getting busy already. Hopefully, no one would need one of their spares.
Clearly intimidated by He Who Turned into a Badass Demon Hunter Overnight, Kyle almost lunged for the chair beside Amber. Dora frowned at him and took the chair by the wall. Quentin had noticed. He sat across from Kyle and fixed him with a tormenting glare.
Kyle sank down in his seat, clutching his clipboard, and she chastised Quentin with an admonishing scowl. “Don’t be a bully.”
He turned the full force of his glare on her, his eyes glistening in the low light. It didn’t have quite the same effect. Her stomach clenched and flip-flopped as molten lava pooled low in her abdomen, and she found herself struggling for air.
The server hurried over with two menus. She stopped short, her gaze bouncing from Kyle to Dora and back again before she came to her senses and refocused on Quentin. “Hello, again,” she spoke and signed.
She was older than Quentin, though not by much. And she was pretty. Pretty enough to cause the sharp and utterly useless monster known as jealousy to rear its ugly head. Amber was not the jealous type. Normally. Then again, nothing about today had been normal.
“If you guys know what you want,” the woman said quietly, “I’ll put your order in before that large table.”
“Green chile cheeseburger!” Amber blurted. “With sweet potato fries.” She was suddenly starving. “You still have those, right?”
The woman smiled. “We do. What would you like to drink?”
“Just coffee, thanks.” Though she craved one of their margaritas like there was no tomorrow.
The woman turned and beamed at Quentin. “And you?”
He had yet to take his eyes—and that glare—off Amber. “The same,” he said softly.
“You got it, hon.” The woman gave another furtive glance at their two guests and hurried off.
“She can see you guys,” Amber said to them.
“That’s Sarah.” Dora looked at her as though she were a long-lost daughter, and Amber guessed that she did that a lot. “She’s a darling girl. Been in town for a couple of months. Works breakfast at The Java Junction and lunch here at the Tavern. I hope she stays.”
Recognition hadn’t flashed