Page 158 of Problematic

“Mm.”

“How many?”

“Three. And a few side powers.”

“Side powers?” I echoed. “You say that like demon powers come with side dishes.”

“It’s just bloodline debris.” His hand moved slowly over my arm beneath the water. “Nightmares are one.”

I went still. “What does that mean?”

“It means I can reach into the things people fear and give them shape. I can ruin sleep. Drive them mad. End a fight without touching anyone.”

A shiver ran through me.

His arm tightened a fraction. “Not you,” he said. “Never you.”

“Cool. Great. Fantastic. I wanted one answer. You handed me a horror DLC.”

His laugh moved against my back. “You wanted real.” He pulled me flush against his chest. “I also like gardening.”

I blinked. “What?”

“I grow roses on the balcony.”

“You. Gardening.”

“Yes.”

“That is like finding out a shark meal preps.”

“I do that too.”

“Oh my god. You’re a murder grandpa.”

“They don’t lie,” he said. “They need light, water, and pruning. Simple.”

My chest softened before I gave it permission.

“That’s kinda cute.”

“I reject cute.”

“You bought bubble bath and grow roses.”

“For you.”

My mouth shut.

He rested his chin lightly against the top of my head. “I hate most music,” he said. “Too much noise. I like piano. Structure. I sleep badly. I tried your tea—it was terrible. I like your ridiculous mugs, the cat one, the skull, and the blanket with the slogan.”

“Good girls read smut,” I supplied.

“I would burn it if it belonged to anyone else.”

“That’s weirdly touching.”

“I go out on the balcony around three in the morning when things get loud in my head. No mask. No weapons. I watch the lights until I remember why what I do matters.”