Page 68 of Problematic

I had sense. I kept it in a drawer for emergencies.

“I’m across from the coffee shop,” I said.

Vale inhaled like he had just walked into a room and found blood on the wallpaper.

“You followed her to work.”

“I escorted her from a distance.”

“She doesn’t know you’re there.”

“That’s why I said from a distance.”

“That’s stalking.”

“Correct.”

He made a low sound, not quite a growl. Vale had many talents. Patience with me had never been one of them.

“You have responsibilities.”

“I’m aware.”

“You’re ignoring them.”

“I’m prioritizing.”

“Your mate making coffee is not a city-level priority.”

A customer entered the shop.

Male. Mid-thirties. Low-tier demon. Office clothes too tight at the shoulders, temper already souring the air around him. He stepped up to the counter and snapped his fingers before Liv had even turned around.

My fingers went still around the phone.

Vale said, “Lux?”

“Hold.”

Liv smiled her work smile. The tight little customer-service mask that made something mean move under my ribs. She said something polite. The man said something back. I couldn’t hear through the glass, so I tapped the camera system I had patched into the shop after yesterday’s issue.

Audio connected.

“. . . been standing here for almost thirty seconds,” the man said. “Are you asleep or just slow?”

Liv’s shoulders lifted a fraction.

I felt my face empty.

Vale heard it through the line. “Lux.”

“Busy.”

“Do not — ”

I ended the call.

Inside the shop, Liv grabbed a cup. “Sorry about the wait. What can I get started for you?”