If the darkness of Ruba’s supernatural world was my domain, then Harbor’s seedy city streets was Titus'. He handled the car with ease, turning down one-way streets, and slowed.

Gangs littered the corners here, most stood there watching us creep past. East side was mostly off limits to supes. We tried to be respectful, tried to give the humans who hated our kind some space.

It was another world out here…another world altogether. Spray-painted buildings carried the slogan Night is mine. Bangers owned these corners, peddled their drugs to anyone with the cash to spend. If you wanted it, you could buy it here. Guns, drugs, sex, information. All for a price.

“You’re okay with me,” Titus murmured, eyeing a guy standing on the street. Tattoos lined his face, running in a line along each temple. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

And as much as I wanted to shut him down with the brave bullshit that usually spilled from my lips, I couldn’t. My lungs ached, sending a lick of heat through my chest until I released my breath. “Exactly how long has it been since you worked these streets?”

He never turned his head, looked each one of the bangers straight in the eye as we passed. One lifted his hand, fingers pointed like a gun, and aimed it at Titus. “Five years, give or take.”

“And you think your CI is still alive?”

“If he’s alive, he’s here. Gremlin is a spineless piece of shit. I caught him peddling arsenic to some young schoolgirls under the guise of cocaine. They didn’t know any better, stupid goddamn kids. Almost killed one of them, landed her in the hospital for a month. Said he didn’t know. Said it’d been sold to him by a dark witch named Shade. I dragged his ass to that hospital every damn day for a week to look at that kid.”

Man…that’s brutal.

He swung the car around and into a parking lot under a row of cheap-as-hell- looking apartments. “You can handle yourself, right?” He leaned across my lap to punch the button on the glove compartment.

A second Sig was strapped to the top, hidden from sight unless you bent down.

“I’m good,” I muttered. “Just don’t get yourself shot, okay? I’m not a damn healer.”

He gave a snigger and drew back across the seat. “I’ll remember that. Your list is growing of the things you can do; take down a demon, consume drugs and not wake up with a hangover, face off with a pack of wolves and the Queen of Ruba, and take on a fucking archangel. And all that in less than twenty-four hours.”

I cut my gaze toward him as he leaned forward and glanced at the bank of run-down apartments. “Impressed, huh?”

“Very,” he murmured and then sat upright. “You ready?”

My jaw eased as I reached for the door handle. I needed this; movement, action, the rush. But as much as I wanted to forget those words, they haunted me as I stepped out of the car….

Your father…

Titus checked the one-way street behind us and then moved toward the rusted set of exposed stairs. I didn’t like this, not these streets, not these apartments. We were blocked in, closed off from any damn help. Still, I kept moving, following Titus as he gripped the flaking railing and climbed. Timber moaned, the whole thing felt like it swayed as I followed.

One quick glance and Titus was heading left, slowing outside apartment number three. He raised his hand, gave a hard knock on the busted screen door and yelled. “Gremlin, Titus Banks, open up.”

A shuffle came from inside. I stepped backwards and turned, gritting my teeth, and waited for the blast of the gunshot.

“You can either open up, or I’m kicking the door down.”

A voice, muttering…hate…hate…they found me…found me.

“Watch out!” I howled, took one quick step, and dove as the blast echoed.

I hit a wall…that’s what it felt like…a human goddamn wall. My feet left the floor, and air wasn’t the comfort I thought it should be as we hit the floor with a hard thud.

I rolled and scurried to my feet as a dark blur cut across my field of vision and hit the stairs.

“Goddam it,” Titus roared.

And then he was after it. Boots thundered, the stairs howled and swayed. I shoved up from the ground and moved. The blast came again, tearing through the air.

“Call the police!” I screamed as I raced forward, taking the stairs three at a time in lunges. “Someone call the damn police!”

Yet no one answered, no one even came to the doors to see if we needed help. No one cared…that’s why. No one cared.

I lifted my hand and sprinted, the air changed, moving and bending at my will. But the laws…the goddamn laws. A roar ripped from my lips as I dropped the power. I wanted to decimate this damn place, tearing brick from brick, as Titus raced past his car and back along the one-way street.

I felt every step like a damn blow, felt the warm air in my lungs, heard every beat of my heart, and yet, all I could see was him. Head down, arms pumping, he tore along the street like a bull on the loose.

“Gremlin!” Titus roared. “I’m not going to hurt you!’

The darkness shifted once more, only a blur as something lunged from a crack in the wall to hit him side-on. I dug deeper, lunging forward with everything I had, and raised my hand as the beast reared backwards, teeth bared, ready to take out a piece of meat, and struck.

Teeth scraped the inspector, and he shouted before they both fell backwards. The creature's screams were piercing, rebounding off the brick walls to cleave my head.

“Enough,” the thing hissed, and grabbed it’s head. “Make it stop…make it stop!”

Titus rolled, eyes wide, staring blankly as I neared. I looked at his torn shirt and searched for blood. “You hurt?”

He stared at the creature, and then me, and slowly shook his head. “You?”

The creature wailed and thrashed, green skin stuck to bony ribs, and then curved hard to its sunken belly. “Please…please, mistress. Enough…enough!”

It was pathetic, and small, and helpless under the power of pain—just like all other creatures. I closed my hand, ending the surge, and watched the creature collapse against the concrete.

“Goddamn it. I told you who I was,” Titus snarled and rolled again. He pushed up, moving slower now, taking his time.

I stepped to the side, sucked in a breath, and waited. Pain was a double-edged sword, and, if anyone knew that, it was me.

With it came the terror, with it came the fear, as the creature whimpered and turned its head. “You…you hurt me. Witch of Night. Witch of Pain. Cruel witch…Gremlin did nothing to you…”

“You shot at us, you piece of turd,” I answered. “If you'd run, it would be one thing, but you shot at us.”

“Not at 'us'…at you!” the beast snapped.

It was ugly, gremlin, by name, gremlin by nature. Its head was too big for its body, misshapen and too long, ending with big ears that almost flapped when it shook its head.

It wore cut-off shorts and filthy sneakers…kid's size.

“Did world a favor, did Titus a favor. Better you dead. Better no reason to come.”

“What the fuck does any of that even mean?” Steel links clattered as Titus reached over and, in one swift move, clasped the cuffs around its wrists.

But it was useless, scrawny arms and tiny hands slipped straight out. The gremlin smiled, raised its hand, and lifted its middle finger. “Sit on it and rotate.”

Jesus, and I thought I had a foul mouth. Titus snagged the crested neck and dragged the gremlin to his feet. “Rotate, huh? How about we discuss that downtown. I’m sure there’s space in the supe lockup. Maybe bunk with your old pal, Cutnick? I’m sure he’s just dying to see you again.”

Gremlin shook its head, fearful for a different reason now. “No. Why you say something like that? Not funny…not funny.”

Concrete chips fell from his trousers as Titus straightened. “Then how about you show a little respect. Now, let’s go back to the beginning. We need some intel on a wolf shifter called Jeremy, bit some humans, one will turn the next full moon.”

It shook its head. “Don’t know no wolf name Jeremy.”

“He ran with the Ruba pack, now they’re saying he’s running with another,” I growled. “I want this wolf, Gremlin.”

“Hey! Hey you, fucking pig!” Voices called from the other end of the alley.

I glanced behind me to the crowd of locals. Pants hung low, exposing checkered boxers to the rest of the world. How they thought this looked cool was beyond me.

“Back up to the apartment, Lorn.” Titus warned.

But the small crowd was growing and surging forward. Back there in that tiny box, we’d be closed in. I took a step forward, need rising to the surface and for once it wasn’t about me.

All I thought about was Titus, and his pathetic mortal coil. “It’s okay,” I murmured. “I promise not to hurt them…much.”

“Lorn,” Titus growled behind me. “Lorn.”

The laws applied to me, probably more than most. I understood that pain could be such a powerful weapon. No one knew how many different types of pain there were.

There was the physical, one flash through the body brought most to their knees. But that was easy…fast. Quick to come, and quick to go. I’d never tested my full strength. Even with the small taste like I gave the gremlin, the energy was consuming, rendering me useless except to whimper and curl into a ball.

But not today. Today was different. Darkness filled me, darkness with its swirling cornucopia of power.

“You fucking see the bitch?” The banger sneered.

He glanced at the growing gang behind him and focused on me.

“We don’t want any trouble, we’re just here to talk to Gremlin.” I opened my palms and focused on the leader. “Please don’t come any closer.”

“Please? Please,” he mimicked, and reached for his crotch. “Please this, bitch, how about you get down on your knees?”

“And do what? Try to find your dick for you? Not really my style. I’m not into boys,” I snarled. “I like my man with a bit of backbone, and not behind a small piece of steel.”

Lips went white as he stilled. Calm before the storm and all that.

“Fuck, bitch,” someone griped behind him.

“Take care of this fucking bitch, Demon.”

“Do it…do it!”

Seconds, that’s all it took for him to make the biggest mistake of his damn life. He thought he was sweeping around the back of his body in one swift move and pulling out the Glock.

But he wasn’t fast at all. Physical always came second best to thoughts, feelings, memories… and I captured them all in the blink of an eye. “You don’t want to do this.”

Hurt raged to the surface. The loss of his mother at eight, finding his dad dead of an overdose at nine. His girlfriend cheating on him at eighteen, and his first taste of heroin at twenty.

So much to choose from, but when it came down to it, there was only one loss that overwhelmed the others.

The loss of himself. From sweet kid to harder teenager, and along that hard path, pieces of him broke away, left alongside the road of life like roadkill. There was a flare in his eyes, a shift of his stance. Not so cocky now.

And with the weight of that cruel memory came the ache, an ache so deep it cut through the rest. When he stopped living his life as a human and started living his life as Demon.

Guns, drugs…and violence. Each one was a rung on the ladder, and the higher he climbed, the further he left himself behind.

“You know, it’s not too late,” I murmured. “You can still go back and finish your schooling, get that degree. You always loved buildings, the older the better, right?”

Nervousness gripped him, tightening that sweaty grip around the Glock. But he was broken, the seed planted, all I had to do was watch it grow.

“Demon,” the guy at his back urged. “What the fuck are you waiting for?”

I paid him no mind. They were nothing…no importance. I could level them…with one sweep of my hand.

The feeling climbed, rising inside me like a tsunami. No…that wasn’t right. I swallowed hard and went still with the thought, but the feeling took hold.

They were nothing.

And this feeling…this feeling was everything.

I turned my head and glanced behind me. The white sketch paper flapped wildly in the humid breeze. Titus was bending over, gripping Gremlin by the back of the neck, shoving that picture in its face.

Rage filled him, twisting those perfect lips.

And it was as though I’d not seen him before, as though a veil had been lifted and here was the true man…here was the true mortal.

“I want his fucking name.”

Savage words floated to me on the breeze.

“What the fuck are you?” Demon muttered, drawing my gaze.

He’d dropped his hand, fresh tears shone on his cheeks. “What the fuck are you?”

“A witch,” the words felt hollow even when they slipped free.

He shook his head and stepped away. He was lost once more, stumbling through this alien world in the body of an adult, but with the soul of a child. “You ain’t no witch. I know witches. They're cold, and dangerous. But you…you’re something else. Diablo…”

I winced, and swallowed.

“Fucking Diablo, man…” he stabbed the air and swept. “She’s fucking Diablo.”

I shook my head. “I’m not…I’m not.”

“Demon!” Gremlin screamed behind me. “He’s a demon, that’s all I know!”

I spun to see his arm twisted unnaturally behind his back. Titus dropped his hold at the word, and shoved, sweat gleaming on his forehead.

Footsteps scuffed, fumbling, falling over themselves as the gang behind me fled. Gremlin was next, scurrying to hands the second he hit the ground. He was nothing more than a dark blur once more, racing for salvation.

Titus' chest rose with heavy breaths. Still, there was no move toward me.

He was frightened of what I'd done.

And I was frightened of what I could do.

Both were equally as terrifying

Something had changed; something in me, and between us. I stared at the crumbled sketch in his hand and the desperation in his eyes. The sharp howl of a siren made me turn. Red and blue lights flashed as the police cruiser slowly turned into the alley.

I stepped to the side, catching Titus lifting his hand. Gravel crunched under the tires as the car slowed and then stopped.

The officer glared at me, glanced in his rearview mirror, and then shouldered open the door. “Inspector?”

“Stacks. It’s me,” Titus growled, and dropped his hands, brushing the grime from his clothes.

The young officer glanced from Titus to me. “Thought you were on leave?”

I jerked my gaze right. Leave? I glanced to the sketch. If he was on leave, then what the fuck was he doing chasing damn gremlins with me?

“Yeah, just had to finish up one last thread. How’re Sonia and the baby?”

Stars ignited in the officer’s gaze as he nodded. “She’s good, yeah, baby’s fine. A little girl, we named her Stevie.”

“After your Uncle?” Titus moved closer. “He’d be so damn pleased. I think that’s a beautiful name.”

“Yeah, we did, too. Fits her, you know, all screaming and hunger. Sonia reckons we shoulda named her something more mellow…like hurricane, as a joke.”

Titus grinned and shook his head. Dark eyes glanced my way. It was a front, all smiles, all talk…all piss and wind, as Alma used to say.

Silence grew, until the officer glanced my way.

“This is Lorn with The Circle, she’s helping me, a guide really. Can never be too careful out here.”

Lies...lies…lies…still I played along. “Yeah, with all the dicks flying around.”

Silence. Utter silence. Everyone was a damn critic.

“Glad I caught you,” the officer said. “Sonia wanted me to invite you over for dinner…tonight, if you’re interested. I know she’d love to see you again and thank you for the generous gift.”

Titus smiled and gave a chuckle. Fake laugh. Fake laugh, fake smile. What the fuck was this guy up to?

“Tell her thank you so much for the invitation, but I—”

Officer Stacks gave a nod. “It’d really mean a lot to her.”

“Go, Titus,” I chimed in. May as well make myself a bigger pain in the ass. “You were saying before you miss a good home-cooked meal.”

There was a tic at the corner of his eye.

“Then I won’t take no for an answer,” Stacks grinned and made for the open driver's door, calling over his shoulder. “You know the address. See you about seven?”

“See you then,” Titus answered, but with the officer's back turned, he looked less than thrilled.

The cruiser’s door slammed, the lights blinked once and then went off before the car slowly backed out of the alley.

“You know, if you wanted to derail me that bad, you could’ve just stabbed me in the back.”

He wouldn’t look me in the eye, only stared after the cruiser as it backed out onto the street and drove away. The stubborn, snarly, sonofabitch lied to me, manipulated me…drove me to some seedy human back-alley apartment, and I was the one who was at fault here?

His face…when he shoved that sketch in front of the gremlin—his face wasn’t the Titus I knew. “Where to now?”

He jerked his head toward me, only now meeting my eyes with a cold stare. “You want your shifter, right? Where would a pack like that lay low? Where can you find salvation in this goddamn city for a price?”

There was only one place I knew of. Only one place that was big enough to accommodate a pack like that and offered protection from the outside world—The Seven Levels.

I gave a nod and turned from the emptying alley, to catch Titus’s stare. Something was changing between us, something harder, colder…like the perfect illusion of cop and hunter had shifted. The surface had been scratched and we were now seeing the real version.

The photograph reared in my mind. Happy faces, perfect smiles, and that ring…that glinting gold band just lying there. Something had happened to the Inspector, something that involved the breakdown of his marriage.

His heavy steps echoed behind me as I made for the car. The guy was hurting, and angry. I yanked open the door and climbed inside. He was a damn closed book to me.

I stared through the windshield as he climbed inside and then closed the door. For a second, we sat there in utter silence while we each waited for the other one to speak. I couldn’t get it out of my head, all the pieces just floated around me, with nothing to tether them together., “They don’t know, do they?”

Hands fell into his lap. “No.”

“And they think she’s where?”

He lifted his head and turned, pain raging in those blue eyes…perfect pain so cruel it broke my damn heart. “They think she’s agoraphobic and doesn’t leave the house.”

“Don’t you think it’s about time they knew? You don’t have to carry that burden, Titus.”

“If she was dead, it would be easier.”

The words chilled me, but there was no rage in his tone, only agony.

“Then I could grieve, then I’d know why. Then I could mourn and move on…this…whatever the fuck this is, is fucking cruel.”

He unspooled in front of my eyes, turned from the closed-off police inspector to a man. I always looked, and that was my problem. I always saw the man for who he was, and not what he was. Don’t get attacked, hit it and move on. No one to love means no one to hurt.

“I don’t know why I’m saying all this to you. I’ve not told anyone, not my family, not my friends. No one…but you.”

Dr. Fucking Phil, here I come.

The words seemed to ball up in the back of my throat. I wanted to say something, 'bros before hoes' and all that shit. But she wasn’t a hoe, and this dude wasn’t a bro. He was a man bleeding, with no damn wound.

I leaned across the seat, lifted my hand to his face and felt the stubble. Blue flared, like the sky had ignited, as he turned his head. I closed my eyes and leaned in, tasting his stale breath, and pressed my lips to his.

There was nothing, no movement, no hurt or rage. He was a corpse under my fingers, a shell under my lips, before I broke away and dropped back into my seat.

Well fucking done. If there was someone who could turn a mourning moment into something awkward as hell, then it was me.

“What the hell was that?” Surprise filled his tone.

I gave a shrug. “Nothing.”

“Nothing? Nothing?” His hand clenched around the wheel as he turned his head. “Why?”

Why? Because…because I wanted to! Why did everything have to be so…so…ugh! “‘Cause I cannot stand to see an animal in pain, human or otherwise.”

“So, a mercy kiss, then? I don’t need your sympathy, and I sure as hell don’t need your damn mercy.”

A coldness had seeped into his tone, one that hadn’t been there before. “I’m sorry. I’m—”

“Forget it,” he growled, then leaned forward and started the engine. “Just forget it. Goddamn mistake. This entire fucking thing is just one big fucking mistake.”

He growled and snarled as gears clunked and the car shot forward. Fuck. One goddamn kiss—I stared out the window—one goddamn kiss, and I had to go and fuck it all up.

I'd read it wrong. Hell, I was always reading shit wrong. First with Gabriel and now with the damn human…I mean, he’s a damn human. “I got that already,” I mumbled and stared at the bangers on the street.

The leader, Demon, stared at me, holding my gaze as we passed. And still I tried to find him in every face, tried to find that resentment as that small voice whispered in my head.

You can’t stand to see them in pain, Lorn, because you are that creature…you are that pain.

My fingers clenched, driving my nails into the leather on the seat. First my father, then my mother…then Alma…Gabriel…Titus…

Names and faces blurred into a never-ending whirlpool of abandonment. Was that why I messed this up so bad? Was that why I'd kissed him?

He handled the car in utter silence, weaving through the city streets as we made our way from the human side of the city and back into my world.

The Seven Levels was a dangerous place, especially for a human. But here he was, ready to throw himself to the damn wolves once more. The guy had a death wish.

Just don’t kiss him…oh no, 'cause that would be so fucking terrible. People rushed, filling up city streets. My stomach gave a clench and a whimper as I looked at the time.

Three coffees and a whole lotta angst just didn’t fuel a woman like it used to. The car swung hard, throwing me against the door. I wrenched my gaze to the street, trying to find the goddamn head-on collision, as Titus braked the car hard, pulling up to the curb. “Come on.”

He switched the car off and climbed out. I glanced around and followed, shouldering open the door and slamming it shut behind me.

He headed for the tiny Italian restaurant wedged in between a KFC and a Starbucks. The little bell above the door tinkled as Titus pushed through and then held the door open. He motioned for a small table at the side and nodded.

I looked around. “What are we doing here?”

“Eating,” he growled.

“Hey, Mr. Banks!”

I turned toward the voice and watched an old man waddle out from a rear doorway. He wiped his hands on a perfectly white hand towel and made his way over.

I liked him instantly, warm smile, beautiful, bright, shiny eyes and a body that knew its way around a pasta dish, and the smell…oh man, thick and heady, and sweet and garlicky.

“It’s been a long time, my friend,” he reached out and grasped Titus' hand. “How are you? You good, you hungry?”

Titus smiled and nodded. “I’m good, Mario. Really good, my friend.”

And only then did the old man turn to me. He dropped Titus' hand, thick, bushy brows furrowed. “And who this be?”

“This is Lorn. She’s a friend helping with an investigation.”

The scrutiny continued as he dropped his gaze. “She also skinny…too skinny. You eat, or you one of those women who push salad around their plate?”

The question felt damn confrontational, as though any minute now I was going to have to throw down with a sixty-year-old Italian chef. “I eat…”

My damn stomach howled. I clenched tight, trying to muffle the goddamn traitor. Mario looked down toward the sound and then stilled. His eyes widened, he lifted his gaze. There was no sparkle of glee in his eyes now, no facade of the restauranteur. He knew what I was…hate, hurt…a walking fucking menace. “It’s okay,” I murmured, my voice so quiet.

I wanted to turn to Titus, to let him know that it was okay. I could leave. I would leave. My boots felt stuck. I shifted, dragging the heel instead of lifting.

“You come any time,” Mario answered. “You come, Mario feed. I cook, you eat. I know what you like.”

Heat rushed to my face. I stilled, trying to find a breath, and swallowed. Humiliation was a damn rag down my throat. He took a step closer, and it was the animal inside me that was weak.

Warm hands clasped mine. “You come, and Mario feed. You no pay, you understand me? You no pay. You eat, all the pasta you can have.”

Titus flinched, and I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole. His jaw clenched tight as Mario patted my hand and motioned for the chair. I didn’t move, couldn’t find my fucking way under the blur.

What the hell was wrong with me today? It felt like the longer I spent with this damn human, the more human I became, and the more violent he became.

I turned my head and blinked the blur away. Feet moved, shuffling more than anything, as Titus pulled the chair out for me and waited.

This was awkward, and weird, and slightly uncomfortable. No one pulled out a damn chair for me, only if they wanted to use it as a weapon. I dropped to the seat and waited while he took the other chair.

For a moment he wouldn’t meet my gaze. I stared at the twenty-year-old wallpaper, and the faded cotton napkins. I stared at anything…just not him.

“I’m sorry.”

The words were wounded and harsh, puncturing my steely resolve. I got this…I got…this. “Pfft, what for? Nothing wrong with me. It’s all good.”

The words came out louder than I wanted, filled to the brim with false bravado. I was no better than those punks on the streets, all front and a trembling, fucking mess inside.

“No, it’s my fault. You were right. Not only did I railroad you into this, I failed to take proper care of someone who’s bent over backwards to help me.”

Only then did he lift his gaze. Only then did he let me in.

My heart thundered, driving a damn stampede through my body. I didn’t want this…not his scrutiny, not his damn sympathy…Ha! Wasn’t that his damn line?

“So, The Circle. They pay on a case-by-case basis?” He reached over and moved the wine glasses aside as a young woman came from the back carrying a tray with a carafe of cold water.

“Yes, the color reflects the status assigned. The biggest cases are paid the highest…”

“And those are what color?”

He kept his voice soft and pliable, drawing my attention to the splash of water in the bottom of the glass.

“Gold, those are gold.”

“And the job last night with the demon, that was gold?”

A hard bark of laugher ripped from my chest. I shook my head and answered. “No, that wasn’t gold. That was a red.”

His brows narrowed, sending a crease along the middle of his forehead. “And red is where, exactly?”

“Red is the lowest.”

Glasses clinked, cutlery clattered, and from the back a deep tenor resounded as Mario belted out a song in Italian.

“And you had another job yesterday before the demon one?”

I reached for the glass and took a sip. Cold water slid down the back of my throat and settled in my belly. “The shifter…yeah. Too much testosterone. I had to drag his ass to the infirmary to be treated. Can’t be smashing up a car in the middle of the day, not with your damn fists, anyway.”

“Jesus, if those are a red, I’d hate to see what damage a gold is.”

I stilled, and slowly licked the bead of water from the corner of my lips. “Gold are for the prestigious. There’s no fighting, and no death. They’re for the fae and the leaders. It’s basically a bodyguard service.”

He jerked his head up as Mario hit a high note. The restaurant rang with the throaty sound, and as crazy as it seemed, I felt more at home here than I had anywhere for a very long time.

“So you’re telling me, those who get the gold duties chauffeur the fae and the damn movie stars of the supernatural world around and they’re paid more than those who risk their lives?”

He had no idea. “A lot more.”

“So what’s a red job pay, I mean, asking for a friend?”

I swallowed and dropped my gaze. There was no shame…none whatsofuckingever. And yet here I was, stupid and naive, and stepped boldly into a trap.

That damn check reared in my head and Melanie’s voice came with it…They do this on purpose, you know that, right?

They did, and any other time I could handle it.

“Lorn?”

Any other time it didn’t smart, not like this.

“Lorn?”

“Ten dollars and sixteen cents.”

I expected him to laugh. Hell, I would’ve.

“So, you did two jobs yesterday for a grand total of twenty-dollars?”

“And thirty-two cents,” I chimed in, sounding like a damn idiot. “Can’t forget that.”

“And you did how many jobs last week?”

“Five.”

He sat back on his chair as Mario’s song ended. “Five jobs to last all week. That’s not even minimum wage, Lorn. Have you ever had a job other than a red?”

And here was the kicker, wasn’t it? Here was the real truth. The Circle looked after their own—only I wasn’t one of them. “No.”

The muscles of his jaw flared as pots clattered in the kitchen.

“Maria!” Mario bellowed. “Order is up!”

A minute later the young waitress stumbled out and it was only then I realized we hadn’t ordered. Two massive plates filled the tray, steaming, swirling towers of spaghetti drenched in meat and tomatoes, with thick shavings of parmesan cheese.

“Mario does one dish very well, best in the city…actually.”

“Best in the state!” Mario bellowed from the back.

Best in the state…I stared at the mountain and reached for my fork. This was going to be bad, might even change our relationship for good. My hand shook as I hovered over the food, and yet Titus never moved, only stared at me with those solemn blue eyes.

“Eat,” he murmured. “Eat, Lorn, eat.”