Page 33 of Infernal Secrets

“You’re an asshole. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“And lived?”

I drew my lip inward, teeth pressing into my skin. As much as I wanted to challenge the surly demon, I didn’t want to end up a pile of ash. Could he do that?

This was my home, and Cyn made me feel like I was intruding in my own space.

Ash stepped between us and motioned to the plate he’d made. “Have a seat. I made yours.”

I glanced at Ezra before taking the stool on his other side. “Thank you,” I murmured.

With Cyn acting like he hated me, I wondered what possessed him to make breakfast. I wasn’t arrogant enough to believe he cooked for me, but the way he watched me as I took my first bite, his shoulders relaxing when I hummed as the fluffy eggs melted on my tongue, made me wonder if my opinion mattered to him—if only a little.

Looking around the counter at the guys stuffing their faces, I frowned. “This is really weird.”

Zeke leaned forward, having already cleared his plate. “What?”

“This. Having breakfast with demons. Like I said, you’re not acting like I expected.” I pushed my half-eaten plate forward. “Why are you still here?”

“Believe me, if I could be at home in my bed instead of a human’s kitchen, I would be,” Cyn said, taking Zeke’s empty plate to the sink.

“No one’s stopping you,” I muttered, popping a piece of pineapple into my mouth as my gaze locked on Zeke reaching for the plastic bag holding the crumbled remains of my failed biscuits.

He crammed an intact half-biscuit into his mouth.

Ash nudged my arm. “What’s wrong?”

“What?”

“You’re staring at Zeke.”

Zeke froze, a crumbling biscuit pinched between his fingers, halfway to his mouth. Cyn turned as if ready to defend him again.

“You like those?” I asked instead of answering Ash.

“What? The bread?” At my nod, he said, “Yeah.” He popped the broken biscuit into his mouth. He held the bag out to Cyn. “Try one.”

“Wait!” I rose from my seat. “Those are—” I blanched when they all looked at me. I looked down, mumbling, “Never mind. Go ahead.”

Cyn pulled a quarter piece from the bag and popped it into his mouth.

I hated that I couldn’t resist watching him chew and swallow. I also hated the hope in my voice when I asked, “How is it?”

His amber eyes focused on me. “What?”

“Got any more?” Zeke asked, putting the bag on the counter. “There’s only crumbs left.”

“Ah… no. I haven’t made any since those.” I took a sip of my coffee. “I’ll probably try again soon, though.”

“Try again?”

“Those were a mess. The crumbs aren’t just because they’re almost gone.” I huffed a silent laugh. “They came out like that.”

Zeke’s eyes brightened. “You can cook?”

“I’m better at desserts. My grandma gave me some tips, so I’m sure they’ll be better next time.” Determined, I’d perfect them before my next visit with Grandma. I’d take them however they looked.

Zeke smiled at me. “Cyn cooks. He could help you.”