Page 32 of Flint's Arrow
Pax materialized on Flint’s other side. “I’ve been workshopping new curse ideas - Storm got me a whole stack of books about them. Did you know there’s a spell that means I could potentially make someone’s fingernails grow backward?”
“That sounds horrifying,” Flint said.
“Thank you.” Pax beamed. “I’ve been practicing on getting the words right and combining them with my magic. Storm said I could try it on the next person he’s sent to dispatch. Such fun, being with an assassin.”
Arrow settled onto the bench beside Flint, close enough that their thighs touched but not crowding. Devon tossed him a beer, which Arrow caught one-handed.
“So you’re a desk jockey,” Devon said, dropping onto the bench across from them. Wren curled against his side, watching Arrow with those color-shifting eyes.
“Was,” Arrow corrected. “I worked cybercrimes. Mostly financial fraud, identity theft, and that sort of thing.”
“Sounds boring as hell,” Calvin called from the grill.
Arrow laughed, and the sound surprised Flint at how genuine and unguarded it was. “It absolutely was. I spent most of my time staring at spreadsheets and waiting for warrants to clear.”
“And you arrested bankers,” Cyrus added, wandering over with Python draped across his shoulders. The demon looked thoroughly unimpressed with the entire gathering, but Flint knew that was his default bitch face - he loved everyone in the Alley.
“It was tax evaders mostly.” Arrow took a pull from his beer. “White collar criminals who thought they were too smart to get caught.”
“Were they?” Wren asked softly.
“Not smart enough to avoid me.” Arrow’s grin was sharp. “I was very good at my job.”
“Past tense,” Python observed.
“Past tense,” Arrow agreed. He glanced at Flint, something vulnerable flickering across his face. “I’m hoping to find a new line of work.”
Calvin appeared with a platter piled high with ribs, chicken, and what looked like an entire brisket. Levi followed with anotherload of food. The two bulls laid out the feast on the long wooden table Flint knew they’d built themselves.
“Eat,” Levi commanded.
No one argued.
Flint watched Arrow navigate the chaos of dinner - Storm and Pax bickering over the last piece of chicken, Devon stealing food off Wren’s plate while Wren pretended not to notice, Calvin and Levi arguing about the correct heat for cooking beef in comparison to pork while simultaneously demolishing half the brisket. Python complaining about a drop of barbecue sauce on his shirt, and Cyrus telling him to stop being dramatic.
Arrow laughed at Storm’s terrible joke about a wolf shifter who walked into a bar. He complimented Levi’s dry rub technique. When Pax made a pointed comment about wolves who didn’t appreciate what they had, Arrow met the pixie’s eyes and said simply, “You’re right. I didn’t. I’m trying to do better.”
Pax studied him for a long moment, then nodded once. “Good.”
He fits, Flint realized with a jolt.He actually fits here.
Three weeks ago, Arrow had been a stranger in an expensive suit, treating Flint like a decoration. Now he sat in jeans and a Henley, laughing with assassins and taking teasing from a pixie without his ego getting bruised. The change was startling.
Because he’s not performing anymore, Flint realized.He’s not trying to be the wolf he thought everyone wanted him to be.
Arrow caught Flint watching and raised an eyebrow in silent question. Flint just smiled and stole a rib off Arrow’s plate.
“Thief,” Arrow accused without heat.
“Sniper privileges.”
“That’s not a thing.”
“It is now.”
Devon leaned back on his bench, one arm around Wren. “So what’s your plan, wolf? You quit your job, moved to the middle of nowhere. What comes next?”
Arrow’s fingers tightened on his beer bottle. “Honestly? I have no idea. I’ve spent the last decade building a career I thought I wanted. Turns out I was just trying to prove something to people who don’t matter anymore.”
