Dark Secrets (Shadow Guild: The Rebel 3)

She shrugged. I told you, didn’t I?

I groaned and climbed out of bed, still dressed in half my clothes from yesterday. “Where is he?”

In the street.

I scrubbed a hand over my face and grabbed my robe, pulling it on over my T-shirt. He didn’t need to know what a slob I was. I’d been wearing this shirt for at least twenty-four hours straight.

The clock showed that it was already past two in the afternoon, yet I still felt exhausted. “How the hell did I sleep so long?”

You were up forever reading that book. The sun had already come up and everything.

I groaned, wishing I had one of those cappuccinos from the Mages’ Coffeehouse. If there was one thing I needed right now, it was caffeine. Good, strong, caffeine, preferably prepared by someone else and served in a cup I wouldn’t have to wash. That wasn’t happening anytime soon, however.

Butterflies tumbled in my stomach as I went to the bedroom window and opened it, leaning out to look at the street below.

Just as Cordelia had said, the Devil waited down below. He was so damned handsome in the afternoon light, his suit cut impeccably to make him look like a spy out on a coffee break.

Coffee.

My gaze riveted to the two paper takeaway cups in his hands.

“Is one of those for me?” I asked.

“Indeed, it is. May I come up?”

“Did you find another copy of the book?”

“Will you let me come up if I didn’t?”

“Just curious.” I pointed to the drinks in his hands. “You’ve already got your invitation right there.”

One corner of his full lips tugged up in a grin.

“Cordelia will show you in,” I said. “Wait in the living room. I need a quick shower.”

He nodded.

Behind me, Cordelia grumbled.

I turned to her. “I got you a kebab last night, and you owe me.”

I’ll do it for another kebab.

“You drive a hard bargain, madam.”

She nodded. Damn right I do. And don’t think I’ll forget.

“I would never.” She wouldn’t let me. If I’d learned one thing, it was that Cordelia remembered what she was owed. Hell, I needed to get my business up and running so I could keep her in the lifestyle to which she’d become accustomed. No more dumpster diving for my kebab-loving raccoon.

She trundled to the door, and I darted into the bath.

The space was little and cramped, shoved under an eave that had been built hundreds of years ago. But it was mine, and I loved it. I took a shower in record time, wondering what Grey thought of my place.

By the time I’d dried and dressed in my usual black jeans and T-shirt, Cordelia was back in the bedroom. He’s waiting for you.

“Thank you.”

Kebab?