PREVIEW
... hout Lifting a Finger
The coffee in his hand still smelled amazing—nutty, deep, rich, everything a soul-scorched demon child needed to feel whole again.
Under the table, Naomi—aka Chair Leg—was curled up tighter than a tax fraud case on Judgment Day. Her breathing was quiet, but every now and then, he felt a tiny tremble through the polished floorboards. Girl was stressed. High-end perfume clung to the air near her, floral and citrusy, with an undercurrent of oh-gods-what-if-they ...
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