With that flame burning a little brighter, she brushed a finger over the back of Hope’s cheek. His lips twitched and, hiding a smile, she slid silently from the bed to ghost out the door and to her own room. There, she showered and dressed casual, like it was any normal day.
Once downstairs, she didn’t find Death or Betrayal, so she grabbed her laptop, made a cup of coffee, and queued up the museum website.
On a coffee ring stained notepad, she took down the times of operation and location, noting it was in a popular area of the city. That would make it easy for them to scope it out without looking suspicious.
As she perused the website, her phone buzzed on the counter, and she answered it without looking.
“Hey!” Allegra’s chipper tone said over the line.
“Oh, hey!” Daria replied, pausing to adjust the phone to her ear. “What’s up?”
“Not much. Dave asked me to call you and give you an update. The bar will be closed for at least a month, so we’re kind of laid off.”
Daria winced. It wasn’t too far of a stretch to say it was Daria’s fault—Pandora’s demons had been after her, after all.
“I’m so sorry,” she said before she could stop herself.
But Allegra didn’t catch it the way she’d meant it. “Yeah, I think Dave’s upset about it, but the bar will be back up and running in no time. Hopefully. How are you holding up in the meantime? Started job hunting yet?”
“Ah… not yet. I think I’m taking advantage of the time off,” she muttered, her gaze falling to the images of the museum displayed on her laptop. “Seeing new things, you know.”
“Oh, I bet you are,” she teased saucily. “With the smorgasbord of sexy you have in your house, I bet your hands are full. Pun totally intended.”
Daria chuckled but didn’t encourage her. She didn’t want to think about the fact that she was down two demons.
Footsteps caught her attention and she glanced up. “Hey, you’re up,” Death said, his voice like velvet as he entered the kitchen.
“Oh, sounds like one of them is there now! I’ll let you go, good talking to you!” Allegra hung up before Daria could respond, and she sat the phone down on the counter.
“Who was that?” Death questioned. His hair was tucked up in a messy bun, somehow looking elegant with it haphazardly bundled atop his head.
“Allegra giving me an update on the bar situation. I made coffee too,” she answered.
His gaze turned to the coffee pot, and his lips curled up in the smallest smile before he grabbed a mug. His hands were lithe and deft as they steadied the mug and gripped the side of the carafe before pouring. “I’ve got more than skeletons in my closet,” was scripted on the side of the mug. Ever since she’d broken the scythe one, she’d searched for a replacement, but hadn’t found one. That was the best she could do.
It’s so quiet.
Never before had she noticed the way coffee sounded as it was poured into a cup, but then again, the house had never been so devoid of ruckus either. Even when she lived alone, she hadn’t paid attention, but now when everything was so glaringly different, she couldn’t help but notice all these little things.
“I’m never going to tell Truth to keep it down in the kitchen ever again,” she muttered, and turned back to the laptop.
Death eyed her with a pinched brow, worry deepening his already dark gaze, only a hint of violet visible in their depths.
Shaking her head, Daria took a breath and pushed it to the side. Focus.
“Okay, so there’s a restaurant with a patio across the street from the museum. We could easily eat lunch there and study the entrance inconspicuously. There’s a cafe and a bakery too, if we needed more time. And it’s in a busy part of a downtown area, so anything we do will just blend in.”
Heavy footsteps sounded in the living room, and Daria turned her head just as Betrayal came around the corner. “Up and planning already? At least let me get coffee first.”
After everyone was caffeinated, even Hope with a gentle smile, Daria went over, again, everything she’d learned, and the plan that had begun forming in her mind from the moment she’d woken up.
Betrayal grinned. “Sounds good to me. We can just—”
“Wait,” Daria interrupted. “I figured only two of us would go.”
Their frowns in response made her want to laugh, but she choked it back. “Any woman walking around with three insanely hot men is going to attract attention, and we need to blend in,” she reasoned.
They exchanged mutters and grumbles, her lips twitching until she couldn’t fight it anymore and let it curl her lips. Death was the first to notice, offering her a nod of… maybe approval, as his eyes lightened.
“So, who’s going on this fake date?” Betrayal asked.
“Who says it has to be fake?” Death retorted. His mug clinked against the marble countertop as he surrendered it and stepped around the bar. He held his hand out, palm up, and tucked the other behind his back. Even in a messy bun, sweatpants, and a ratty tee, he seemed like he was waiting for a princess in a ball gown. “Daria, would you like to go on a date with me?”
Pink colored her cheeks as she blushed, but she stood from her chair and placed her hand in his without another thought. “I’d love to,” she answered.
His hand clasped hers gently and lifted her fingers to his lips. The kiss was like petals brushing across her skin, and in the moment, she was enraptured by the fantasy of him. “I know this might seem out of the blue, but how would you feel about lunch somewhere fancy? Then maybe we could grab dessert at a bakery, coffee to keep the conversation alive, and then we can stroll a museum?”
As he repeated almost verbatim the plan she’d laid out, a grin curled her lips until her cheeks hurt. “I think that sounds like such an original idea. I’m in.”
His answering smile was rare but beautiful as he nodded and kissed the back of her hand once more. Only when her hand fell back to her side did she even realize Betrayal and Hope were still in the room with them.
Whoops.
Guess that was the effect Death had on someone.
“Be ready in, say, thirty minutes?” he asked.
“Oh, I’ll be ready.”
Who was she to miss a date with Death?
After getting ready, Daria brushed her hair back out of her face and walked down the stairs to meet the others. Dressed in distressed jeans, the same Docs she’d worn to the nightclub months ago, and a red top paired with a light sweater, she felt casual and cute and almost normal, despite the fact that she was going on a date with Death.
Despite the fact that two men she was in love with were locked away. Despite the fact that they were doing reconnaissance to steal something from a highly reputable museum. Despite the fact that—
Okay, we get it. You’re stressed out.
Pushing that all aside, she grabbed her cross-body bag and stuffed it with her wallet, phone, and, at Betrayal’s request, a pocketknife.
“You look hot,” Betrayal remarked, a lascivious grin on his face as he looked her up and down.
Daria rolled her eyes at his bluntness, but grinned nonetheless.
“Come on, tell me I’m wrong!” he continued, elbowing Hope in the side.