“You’re so right.” I leaned into Clay’s conjecture. “Let me tell you how we—”
“Lovers need their secrets.” He clamped a hand over my mouth. “Keep yours to yourself.”
“What else should I know about the Boo Brothers?” Asa wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist. “The fact Jai sent us after them makes me wonder what I’m missing. We’re a high-value team. This sounds like one of the cases assigned to rookies to dip their toes in Bureau waters.”
“This is a dream assignment.” Clay scoffed at his ignorance. “These guys are legends.”
“You can’t ask for their signatures then kill them,” I said slowly. “You get that, right?”
“Kill?”He flattened his palm to his chest. “No one said kill.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
How else he imagined a showdown with two hunters of the supernatural ending, I had no clue.
“These ‘legends’ are human?” Asa leaned around me to dig in the fridge. “Are you sure?”
Nudging him back when he grabbed for water, I exchanged his pick for two bottles of tasty electrolytes.
“They tell people they’re half human and half angel but not Nephilim.” Clay made the sign of the cross with his fingers. “Those are evil.”
“Here.” I pulled a wooden chair from the kitchen table then shoved Asa down. “Sit.”
I shouldn’t have been flustered when he tugged me onto his lap, but everything was different now. Even this, maybe especially his casual affection. I was still adapting to the portions of a committed relationship that happened with our clothes on.
Stupid feelings.
My inner black witch hissed in my mind that I was weak, pathetic, unworthy of respect or love.
The rest of me, well, it tended to agree. But to keep him, it was willing to throat punch my doubts.
Asa’s warm breath skated up my nape, banishing my turmoil and settling my worries.
For now.
“They have a divine purpose.” I picked up the story. “They’re special.” I leaned back against Asa’s chest, stuck to it, then suffered a pang of guilt for not feeling as remorseful as I should have, given why he was dirty. “They believe ridding the world of the paranormal blight is their God-given right. That it’s not murder, if the victims aren’t human. They’re big on the slaughter of innocents, murder of sympathizers, and theft.”
Holy crusades, as history had proven, cost a fortune. Their money had to come from somewhere. Why not punish nonbelievers and pad their bank accounts at the same time?
“If they’re not Nephilim,” Asa wondered, “then what are they?”
“As far as anyone can tell,” Clay drawled, “they’re half human and half hot air.”
A laugh spluttered out of me, but he wasn’t wrong.
“They’re truly mortal?” Asa circled my hipbone with his thumb. “Human?”
As warmth spooled through me, I began an exploration of the inside of Asa’s thigh with my fingertips.
“Hey.”I flinched when Clay popped my hand. “No fair.” I slung the sting from my fingers. “He started it.”
“Let’s break this up before someone—say, I don’t know, me—upchucks.”
“If you do, it’s not our fault.” I scowled at the level of his handcrafted navel, a cosmetic alteration he was oddly proud of. “It’s all those crickets you ate.”
“Okay.” He shook his head. “No more Mr. Nice Golem.”
Rocking forward with preternatural quickness, he snatched me from Asa then sat back with a grunt.