Dani woke late the next morning to the scent of coffee and pancakes. It all smelled good, so she pulled on sweats and headed in the direction of aroma. Ben stood in front of the stove wearing a pair of jeans and a worn t-shirt. He wouldn't have looked any better if he'd been in a tuxedo.She paused in the doorway and watched his efficient movements. He was humming while he worked. As if a load had been taken off his shoulders. There were no reminders of his wounds from last night."Hi," he said, turning to her.She slid into his arms as if it were the most natural thing. They'd been through something together. Even if they didn't have a bond before, the events of last night would have cemented one between them. "Hey.""You okay?" he asked."I'm okay. Not sure where I go from here," she said.He had one hand on her back and the other on her hair, stroking it. As if he knew she loved it. "One foot in front of the other."Dani's phone rang. It was the college. "Let me take this." She move
The irony was not lost on Whitney. A graduate of the #1 journalism school in the country was covering a social event, instead of tracking down corporations dumping toxic waste into the Delaware River or ambushing deadbeat landlords saddling their tenants with broken heaters.Whitney Lewis couldn't believe she was filing her story in a bathroom. She was a Magna Cum Laude graduate of Emerson College, for goodness' sake.In her evening gown with her laptop perched on her knees and her heels discarded next to her, she wrote about who'd attended the Philadelphia Arts Center Gala with whom, as if it mattered to anyone. Well, it must have mattered to someone, or her father wouldn't have relegated her to the gossip department, instead of the hard news department. She sighed as someone entered the bathroom, but she didn't look up. If she filed the story now, she could go home and sleep. Another woman entered and went right into the stall next to the first woman. At least the bathroom in this f
Coffee and pie. Deke remembered their early days, when they kept a bottle from storage for themselves. They'd hole up at someone's house and sleep off the drunk the next day. That had gotten old. Even if none of them were married, they acted like old married people anyway, never partying until the wee hours of the morning anymore. Trent shook his head. "Not me."Pete looked at Deke, who frowned. "I think I'm going to fall into bed. I was up early.""Yeah?" Pete said. "What was her name?"Deke's bed had been decidedly empty last night. He hadn't even gone to the local bar for a beer after dinner. Instead, he'd put himself in front of a screen to find a reason for his restlessness. Something was going on in the world, and he was sensing it. He'd been tired and having vivid dreams for days. The internet had only provided conspiracy theories of a one-world government, controlling everything. It made sense, but he wasn't prone to being that suspicious—not that he'd admit his fascination fo
"I can't help you," Agostina said through clenched teeth.Whitney rose, needing to move. She strode around the small green park. "Can you point me in the direction of someone who can get me on the guest list?"A sigh came through the phone. "You didn't hear this from me. Okay?""Okay," Whitney said, stopping short. "Go ahead." Hopefully, she was on to something. This could be the story that rocketed her out of the society beat and into actual news. Her father couldn't deny her that for much longer—especially if she broke a story no one else had yet. "I learned about them from my friend, Karen. Karen heard about them from her friend. I don't know how that friend heard."Whitney wanted to hurry her along. She needed the sauce for this story. "Okay. Can you get me on the guest list?""Well, I don't know. It's exclusive and secret," Agostina said, suddenly haughty.Yes. Whitney knew that. The secretiveness was what intrigued her. How had they kept the nightclub so exclusive in the age of
Trent stood on the edge of the roof's terrace. This was one of the nicer spots they'd chosen, a roof people could use but was usually reserved for the owners of the building. He could see Center City in the distance. "Why not?""We don't need the money, Trent."Trent eyed him. "What are you saying?""The more often we set up, the more likely it is we will get on someone's radar. Case in point: I was followed tonight.""By whom?""Some woman. I didn't get a good look at her, but she wasn't a goblin.""I think you're letting all the stuff with Aileen get to you." Aileen, one of their former bouncers, had happened upon a plot by the goblins to derail the election for the Governor of Pennsylvania. Their Manchurian Candidate had been discovered and withdrawn from the race. Aileen had uncovered some disturbing plans, and Deke and his fellow owners—all former military—had agreed to investigate. So far, the goblins had been laying low.Deke pulled out his phone and showed the text to Trent, wh
"I want to delete any pictures you've taken of this place," Deke said. He held out a hand that looked like it could lift weights and field-dress a deer.Whitney eyed it for a moment. "I've done nothing wrong.""You weren't on the guest list.""How do you know?""I know." His caveman demeanor was starting to wear on her."I'm not giving up my phone."In a motion so swift, she didn't see it, he grabbed her purse and unzipped it. She snatched at it, but he put it out of her reach while he dug into it. He pulled out her phone, handing the purse back to her."This isn't right," she protested.His steely gaze came back to her face. "You are dealing with people's livelihoods here. All is fair in love and war." He handed her the phone. "Unlock it.""No.""I'll drop it off the side of the building."She believed him, and since it was a company-issued phone, she unlocked it before handing it back to him. The paperwork for a new phone would be a nightmare. Then, there would be a meeting with her
"No."Whitney pulled out her phone, and Deke grabbed it from her. "I'll call the cops when our customers are gone," he explained. "That body isn't going anywhere."She tried to brush past him, her shock clearly having worn off. "I want to see it. Take pictures."He put a firm hand on her wrist. "Stay out of it, Whitney.""Why?""Because if you do get involved, you might be in danger."A small smile appeared on her face. "Deke, I didn't know you cared.""Can it, Whitney. If someone jumped off a building to kill themselves, there is no doubt their life was a mess. You don't need to involve yourself in that. Stick to socialites.""And pop-up nightclubs?"He looked down at her. She was baiting him, and with God as his witness, he wanted to take that bait. "Leave it be, Whitney."She crossed her arms. "Are you going to hold me here against my will?""Yes."Her mouth opened slightly. Had no one ever said no to her before? She hadn't come off as a spoiled rich girl until now.His eyes narrow
"As little as possible," Deke said. "Oh?" Whitney said from the doorway.Deke hadn't noticed the water had stopped running. He hoped she hadn't heard the references to goblins. That would take some explaining, which he wasn't interested in doing. He rose. Her wet hair was slicked back from her bare face. The look on her face spelled determination. She was even more beautiful now. Even as he thought that, he reminded himself that he didn't want to see Whitney that way."I've made you some food," he said.She eyed him, and then Trent, who seemed overly interested in his plate. As gargoyles—and former military—they shouldn't have been afraid of a woman who was a little spit of a thing, compared to them. Then again, the shortest drill sergeants were usually the toughest—and the smallest dogs were far more likely to attack than the biggest ones were.With that in mind, Deke retrieved the plate and put it at the place he'd set for her. Would his fried rice soothe the savage beast?She slid