“Why what?” I hit the clutch to roll back into the right gear as the light color changed to green.
“Why I don’t want to eat at La Scala.”
I lifted a shoulder. “Your discomfort was all I needed to know, Isabella. If there’s more you want to say, I’m listening. But I don’t require an explanation.”
She fell silent again, her attention on the autumn scenery outside. It wasn’t until we were a few minutes from our destination that she picked up the conversation once more.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
I didn’t know if her gratitude was in reference to switching our location or for not asking questions. Perhaps both. Regardless, I nodded and replied, “You’re welcome.” Her comfort would always come first, a decision I’d made years ago.
I’d meant to bite her that fateful night, to sate the blood thirst my darker side required. But her essence had captivated me—part Midnight Fae, part human. A rare combination, marking her as a Halfling.
And she had no idea.
That would change very soon. I just needed to garner some trust first. It would help ease the acceptance of her birthright.
Well, that was the plan, anyway.
But something told me Isabella Cinder would never make it that easy.
I parked in the run-down lot outside Benji’s and killed the engine. “Ready for the best chicken wings ever?” I asked.
She frowned at me. “You say that like you’ve eaten here many times before.”
“Because I have,” I admitted, jumping out of the car and wandering around to open her door.
She didn’t freeze this time or stay seated, but her brows were drawn down as her feet met the concrete. “But you just moved here, right?”
I smiled. “Did I?”
“Uh, yeah. You just started at the academy this week.”
After closing her door, I locked up the car. We could mess with our interview notes later.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Isabella,” I said, leading her toward the entrance. “Such as my obsession with Benji’s wings.”
“Where did you go to school before Darlington?” she asked, following me inside. “The local high school?”
I snorted. “No.” I paused our conversation to give Belinda a little wave, and her lips curled into a welcoming grin from behind the bar.
She whistled, taking in my suit, and laughed. “You didn’t need to get all dressed up on my account, hon.”
“But you know how much I enjoy impressing you, Mrs. B.”
She scoffed at that and gestured toward the booths along the side of the bar. “Take a seat wherever you want, Tray. You know the drill.”
“Indeed I do,” I replied, placing my palm against Isabella’s back and steering her toward my favorite spot.
Her blue eyes drilled into mine after sliding into the seat across from me, the low lighting overhead glowing off her blonde hair. “Okay, so where did you live before if it wasn’t in Darlington?”
“Cutting straight to the interview, are we?” I teased, sliding a menu across to her. “And you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” I lifted my gaze to hers. “But if you behave tonight, perhaps I’ll show you.”
She scoffed. “Is that supposed to be a line to get me back to your place?” Her expression matched her
retort. “Because that’s not happening.”
I covered my heart. “You wound me, Isabella.”