[This post is from Matt’s point of view.]
Leviathan’s gaze scythed across the kitchen, taking in the abandoned pots on the stove, the remnants of meal prep on the counters, left in situ when he’d knocked on her—their—door. Then the man’s pale eyes settled on Matt and a cold, almost cruel smile creased his lips.
I’ve got a bad feeling about this.
“Oh. So it’s you.”
Hecate’s voice held a tremor. “If you touch him—”
“Hush, girl,” Leviathan growled without looking back. “I have no intention of harming him.”
Not yet, anyway. Matt forced himself to stand up straight and meet the man’s gaze. “Rather rude of you to barge in that way,” he said, his voice carefully neutral. “Though I imagine when you are what you at least were, you don’t have to worry about that too much, do you?”
Shit, Astoris, why the hell did you just say that?
Sometimes, he wasn’t sure if he didn’t actually have a death wish.
Leviathan stared at him for a long moment—long enough that Matt started to wonder if Hecate was going to have to make good on her threat. Then the man smiled.
“You have spirit. That can be useful.”
Somehow, I don’t find that reassuring.
Hecate shoved past Leviathan, shooting him a look that could have melted steel. “Bastard. Get out of my house.”
“I don’t think so.” Leviathan wandered over to the breakfast nook and sat down, gazing at the two of them as he settled in. “We’re nowhere near done. Why don’t you two make some coffee and join me? We have a lot to talk about.”
“Really,” Hecate said, her eyes narrowing. “I can’t imagine what we’d have a conversation about.”
“Alliances,” Leviathan said softly, then gestured to the other chairs at the table. “Sit down, little sister. It’s time we had a chat.”
