Black Wings, Gray Skies (Black Hat Bureau 4)

The guys exchanged wary glances over her head, alarmed she wasn’t feeling well.

Colby was a soul given form. I hadn’t realized she could get sick. It had never happened before.

Unable to resist, I stroked her back while she ate. “Did you stay up late playing Mystic Realms?”

“Yep.” She grinned at that. “I found the invisibility helmet.”

“I thought it was an invisibility cloak?”

“Do you know how dangerous it is to walk around in a cloak? They get caught on everything.”

“I can’t say I’ve put much thought into it, but I see your point.” I stroked her head. “How do you feel?”

“Better now.” She stretched out her wings. “I should go.” She yawned. “Raids don’t plan themselves.”

With less oomph than usual, she glided off the table and sailed out of the room.

As much as I wanted to snag her from the air and coddle her, I knew she hated being babied.

“She put in a lot of hours yesterday.” Clay stared at the doorway. “Not all work, either. Her guild decided last minute to pillage the forgotten city to steal that helmet. It was a six-hour quest with no pee breaks.”

“How do you keep all that straight?” I was already lost. “Do you play the game that much?”

“I watch the highlights on Colby’s channel.” He winked at me. “Saves me time.”

Living forever was often much more appealing in the abstract than in practice.

Clay kept a strict schedule, dividing his days and nights, though he never slept. Structure had kept more than one immortal sane, and it was working for him. That meant even though he could stream her recent footage in a night, he restricted himself to a certain number of hours to give the impression he couldn’t hold his eyes open for another minute.

He had done the same thing for me, his insomniac partner, with baking. Carved out a portion of his night to lure me into a hobby that could occupy me the way Mystic Realms broke up the monotony for Colby.

To this day, I wasn’t sure if Clay figured my being a witch meant I would be a natural fit with cookbooks and recipes. (I did own grimoires and mix the occasional potion.) Or if he simply wanted to share a hobby he enjoyed by cultivating that same deep love in me.

Now that I thought about it, this might be another secret to his longevity. He picked up hobbies left and right, a sponge that soaked up everything on a given topic then wrung itself dry to start all over again.

Mystic Realms was his new religion to give him common ground with Colby, but he was already staging his exit by training the daemon to take his place.

“What’s on the agenda for today?”

“A trip to Folly Beach.” I lifted my cold breakfast, which was still amazing. “I want to check out the area where the first victim’s body was or wasn’t found by the faux witches.”

That Asa didn’t ask me for the particulars told me Clay had shared them with him.

“We’re free until tonight.” Asa poked at his food. “We have to meet Jilo then.”

“That ought to be fun.” Clay seemed to mean it. “Never met a boo hag. Or a talking cat.”

“Mind if I try?” I didn’t wait for Asa to respond. “Your hash browns look crispier than mine.”

“Only if you’ll trade me coffee-rubbed bacon.”

“I’m not sure that’s an equal exchange.” I nibbled my sandwich again. “This bacon is life altering.”

Faster than I could blink, Asa leaned over and helped himself to a huge bite.

“You’re right.” He savored the flavors. “That is life altering.”

Before I could fuss, he loaded a fork and shoveled hash browns into my mouth.