Assuming he was one of them.
Perhaps she should offer to feel his muscles after all.
The thought made her flush. “I don‟t even know your name.”
“Justin.” No last name.
“Lara. Lara Rho.”
She started to extend her hand, but at that moment he caught the waitress‟s eye and the opportunity to touch him was lost.
Lara swallowed her disappointment.
The waitress, a hard-edged, hard-eyed blonde who looked like she‟d rather be somewhere else, left the knot of locals
absorbed by the game on TV. “What can I get you?”
“Two Buds,” Justin said.
The waitress looked at Lara. “ID?”
“Of course,” she said, reaching for her purse.
Axton insisted they do their best to abide by human laws, to blend in with their human neighbors. She pulled out her
perfectly valid Pennsylvania driver‟s license, hoping Justin would do the same, eager for any hint to his identity, any clue why
he hadn‟t been found before now.
He smiled at the waitress. “Thanks.”
The blonde cocked her hip, pulled a pen from her stack of hair. “Anything else?”
His grin was quick and charming. “I‟ll let you know.”
Oh, he was smooth, Lara thought, as the waitress sashayed away.
“So, Lara Rho.” He stretched his arms along the back of the booth, his knees almost-not-quite brushing Lara‟s under the
table. “What brings you to Norfolk?”
You.
Bad answer.
“Um.” She inched her foot closer to his across the sticky floor, hoping that small, surreptitious contact would give her the
answers she needed. “Just visiting.”
“For work? Or pleasure?”
Her toe nudged his. A buzz radiated up her leg, as if her foot had fallen asleep.
Deliberately, she met his gaze. “That depends on you.”
His tawny eyes locked with hers. The tingling spread to her thighs and the pit of her stomach.
“I‟m done working,” he said.
Her mouth dried at the lazy intent in his eyes. “Won‟t they be expecting you? Back at the boat?”
“Boat‟s been delivered and I got paid. Nobody will care if I jump ship.” He smiled at her winningly. “I‟m a free man.”
She moistened her lips. “Isn‟t that convenient.”
No one would miss him if he disappeared tonight.
Her heart thudded in her chest. All she had to do was identify him as one of her own kind, the nephilim, the fallen children
of air.
From his corner, Gideon glowered, no doubt wondering what was taking her so long.
If only she were more experienced . . .
The waitress returned with their beer, two bottles, no glasses.
Lara gripped the slick surface and gulped, drinking to ease the constriction of her throat.
“Let‟s get out of here,” Justin invited suddenly.
“What?”
He reached across the table and took her hand, wet from the bottle. An almost visible spark arced between them, a snap of
connection, a burst of power. Shock ripped through her.
His eyes flickered. “You pack quite a punch.”
So he felt it, too. Felt something. Hope and confusion churned inside her. She dampened her own reaction, feeling as
though her circuits had all been scrambled. The air between them crackled, too charged to breathe.
“I . . . You too.”