Black Truth, White Lies (Black Hat Bureau 3)

“No one.” I nudged her toward the office. “Count the till.”

Camber beat me to the door and twisted the lock. “Hi.”

“Hello.” Aedan slid his gaze past her to me. “Can I speak to Ms. Hollis, please?”

“Sure.” Camber stepped aside, welcoming him in. “There are chairs in her office.”

“Thank you, but no.” He shook his head. “It’s a private matter.”

“I’ll handle it.” I met Aedan at the threshold then turned back. “You two lock up, and you can go.”

“What’s your name?”

We all jerked at the question, but Aedan was staring at Arden like an art collector spotting a Monet at a garage sale. Not a print. The real deal.

“Arden.” A hiccup jostled her frame. “That’s my name.” Hiccup. “It’s Arden.”

“Ardere.” A flirty smile spread his cracked and scabbed lips. “It means ‘to burn.’”

A flush lit her cheeks as her hiccupping turned staccato, and Camber had to escort her to the back.

That…was a line. One wasted on her. But not on me. Fire and water. He was telling her opposites attract.

Nope, nope, nope.

“Let’s go.” I shoved him out the door then shut it behind us. “What was that about?”

“Your human?” Aedan glanced back, just once. “She’s beautiful.”

“You’re too old for her.” We walked the empty sidewalk. “Quit being Frenchy with her. Girls love that.”

“I know.” His smile revealed a dimple in his left cheek. “And I’m not that old.”

“How old is not that old for a daemon?”

“Twenty-five.”

A crack in the pavement tripped me, and I would have gone sprawling if he hadn’t caught me. “What?”

The alienness of his appearance, and the fact he had challenged Asa, a death sentence, had convinced me he was older, more worldly. Aedan had conducted himself with such poise, I never once considered his age. The stilted language and his rigid formality let me believe he was an adult. I suppose he was, technically, but still.

“Twenty-five,” he repeated. “How old is Arden?”

“You’re a baby.” I leaned against the brick wall for a beat. “Why on earth would you challenge Asa?”

The assumption he was a contemporary of Asa’s was my fault, but Aedan was a kid on a suicide mission. The knowledge he was so young, so burdened, unlocked a protectiveness in me I had experienced only once before.

“I’m an adult of the species.” He frowned down at me. “Arden smells sexually mature.”

“Don’t.” I held up a hand. “Don’t smell her.” I rubbed my hands over my face. “Goddess bless.”

“Would you prefer I come back later?” He angled toward the shop. “Do you need a moment?”

“Why did you come?” I forced my feet to hold my weight. “What did you need?”

“I made you this.” He held out a carved river rock. “You can use it to call the dobhar-chú pups.”

“If we find any.”