Astaroth stabbed the salmon extra hard, eliciting a horrendous screech of metal.
Calladia grabbed his wrist, stilling his agitated motions. “Eat the food. Don’t poke at it.”
Astaroth stilled, looking at where her finger covered his pulse. She hadn’t touched him like this before. There had been incidental brushes from being trapped in close proximity, but it had all been practical and impersonal.
This though.
This was new.
Her skin was cool against his demon heat, a balm that soothed his agitation. Her nails were filed short, and the rasp of calluses against his skin spoke of her strength.
There was a softness to her, too, echoed in the gentle slope of her jawline and the curve of her parted lips. He shivered, imagined those lips trailing kisses over his torso, each one an autumn raindrop to cool the angry fire burning in his chest. He would drink that sweet relief down like a dying man, but he suspected it would never be enough.
Calladia snatched her hand back and cleared her throat. “Plotting is better done on a full stomach, right?” she asked as she grabbed her sandwich. Her cheeks were pinker than they had been a minute before. “Overhauling demon society can wait until we’ve found Isobel and recovered your memories.”
Astaroth nodded dumbly as she took a hearty bite of the panini. He’d never been envious of bread before. “Plotting,” he repeated. “Right.” When she licked her lips, he mirrored the action reflexively.
Calladia paused midchew. Her eyes dropped to his mouth.
The main door swung open, and a chorus of male voices echoed through the main lobby, shattering the moment. Astaroth looked over to see who had intruded, then scowled.
A group of very tall, very muscular men in sweat-darkened green rugby uniforms were laughing and slapping one another on the back. Given how hirsute they were, they must be werewolves, a notion borne out by the appearance of that Kai fellow in the midst of them. Astaroth narrowed his eyes, full of abrupt loathing.
Curse werewolves, along with everything else. Did they need to be so bloody big?
“Guess it’s the local pack,” Calladia said.
Astaroth made a disgruntled sound as someone whooped. “Noisy, aren’t they?”
Calladia snickered. “This just in: old curmudgeon finds the youths too noisy. Story at six.”
Astaroth switched his glare to her. “I’m not a curmudgeon. And they are making an indecent amount of noise.” As if to prove his point, the werewolves gathered in a circle and started chanting, swaying back and forth with their arms around one another.
“Sure, Father Time,” Calladia said. “It’s not that you’re a six-hundred-year-old grump who wants the kids to get off your lawn.”
“I don’t have a lawn. London flat, remember?”
The werewolves culminated with a shout and began making their noisy way toward the dining room, following Bronwyn.
“This round’s on me,” Kai said. He stopped in his tracks when he spotted Calladia. “A vision!” he proclaimed, clapping a hand to his chest. “Fair Calladia, I knew our paths would cross again.”
“Because you told her to eat lunch here, you git,” Astaroth muttered under his breath. He gripped his fork, envisioning how it would look embedded in Kai’s neck.
If Kai heard him—and he certainly did, with heightened werewolf senses—he gave no sign. He swept an extravagant bow toward Calladia while his teammates snickered. “I apologize for these hoodlums. They’re not used to polite company.”
“Oh, shut up,” a werewolf with brown hair said. “This clown scores two tries and thinks he’s Lycaon’s gift to womankind.”
Kai scoffed. “Oh, please, Avram. I’m the best number eight this side of the international date line.”
The other werewolf slapped Kai upside the head. “The best? Maybe in the peewee league.”
“Exactly.” Kai winked at Calladia, which nearly earned him a fork through the eye. “Those little fuckers don’t stand a chance.”
“Stop flirting with customers,” Bronwyn said, bumping him with her hip. The dryad only came up to Kai’s shoulder, but she carried herself with the confidence of someone who knew she could snap her fingers and the whole pack would come running. “These two are looking for Isobel.”
“Two?” Kai asked. “I only have eyes for the lovely lady.”
Astaroth scoffed. “Oh, please.”
Calladia looked like she was biting back a smile. “Nice to meet you all,” she said to the team at large. “I’m Calladia.”