“I consider our first date a big night, yes.” I opened the passenger-side door. “In you go, Isabella.”
“Interview tip number one,” she drawled, stepping forward in her beat-up boots. “I prefer Ella.”
“Date tip number one”—I snagged her hip and pulled her to me so I could press my lips to her ear—“I’m calling you Isabella.” I released her in the direction of the seat and smirked as she practically fell into the car. It wasn’t my words so much as it was the baggy flare of her jeans. “Should have worn something a little more practical, beautiful.”
She tucked her legs into the car and glared up at me. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“Sure.” I shut her door, then picked up the bag she’d forgotten on the driveway to toss into my trunk. She’d already buckled herself in by the time I settled in beside her, not even bothering to thank me for retrieving her discarded belongings. “Your manners are exemplary,” I told her as I started the car.
“Why, thank you,” she replied, her tone sickly sweet. “I sharpened them just for you.”
I snorted. “I actually believe that.” She’d been prickly toward me all week, her interview sheet summing up her feelings toward me rather nicely.
What’s your biggest failure?
Would you rather swim in a shark-infested pool or play in a snake pit?
Do you admire anyone more than yourself?
What’s your least favorite kind of music?
Every question held a negative connotation, proving I had quite the fight on my hands here. Such a new experience from my usual. In the Midnight Fae Kingdom, all I had to do was glance at a female and she’d fall to her knees in happy oblivion.
But not with Isabella.
Oh, no. This girl was going to make me work for it. And I couldn’t fucking wait.
We drove in silence to the restaurant I’d picked for our assignment. Isabella’s attire was going to draw a lot of attention, something I suspected to be her goal. She probably expected her wardrobe to turn me off. Hence her resounding silence now. Actually, she seemed a little nervous, what with the way she kept picking at her nails.
I pulled up to the valet and fought a grin when Isabella stiffened beside me. “La Scala?” she asked, her voice a little breathy.
“Yep.” I didn’t give her a chance to say anything else as I exited the car and tossed my keys to the valet. She still hadn’t moved when I opened her door, her seat belt firmly in place. “Ready?” I asked, holding out my hand for hers.
She glanced up at me, her cheeks a delicious shade of pink. “I… I’m not dressed for La Scala, Tray.”
I cocked my head to the side. “You mean that’s not your version of formal attire?”
She didn’t smile or laugh or even glare. She just shook her head and focused on the windshield. “This was a mistake.”
My brow furrowed. Where’s my feisty little female? I wondered, crouching before her. “Isabella,” I said softly, trying to grab her attention.
“Sir, I need—”
I shut the valet up with a wave of my hand. Literally. Dark magic pooled around him, knocking him into a daze of confusion that left him staring off into space. I’d deal with him in a moment.
“Ella,” I tried again, this time using her preferred name. “It’s just dinner.”
“Not here.” She closed her eyes. “Please not here.”
Odd. This was supposed to be the fanciest place in town. It’d taken some magical strings for me to secure us a reservation, as half the senior class seemed to be dining here before the dance.
Was that why she didn’t want to go inside?
My lips twisted to the side. No. That couldn’t be it. She never let the other students intimidate her in class, so why would a restaurant be any different?
Regardless, she clearly wasn’t comfortable, and while I didn’t mind pushing her buttons, this seemed to go beyond mere teasing and into dangerous emotional territory. “Okay,” I told her, standing up. “We’ll go somewhere else.”
I closed her door and waved my hand to release the spell on the valet. He blinked several times in confusion, the dark web slowly disentangling itself from his mind.
“Dinner was great,” I said, handing him a tip in exchange for my keys. “Thanks, man.”
He sputtered something unintelligible at my back that I ignored as I resettled into the driver’s seat with a very quiet Isabella beside me.
She remained mute, leaving me to come up with the backup plan on my own. Darlington was full of expensive restaurants, the kind you paid a fortune for only to be hungry an hour later.
We needed something comfortable. Something low-key with decent food and an easy atmosphere.
Benji’s, I thought, smiling. Yes, that’ll work.
It was a local place one town over with the most amazing chicken wings. The perfect place for a casual date.
“Where are we going?” Isabella asked when we were nearing the outskirts of Darlington.
“To a local wing bar in Asherington,” I said, my hand settling on the shifter between us as we neared a stoplight. I risked a glance at her and noted that her cheeks had returned to their usual pale color.
Her blue eyes drifted my way, blinking. “You’re not going to ask me why?”
“Why what?” I hit the clutch to roll back into the right gear as the light color changed to green.
“Why I don’t want to eat at La Scala.”
I lifted a shoulder. “Your discomfort was all I needed to know, Isabella. If there’s more you want to say, I’m listening. But I don’t require an explanation.”
She fell silent again, her attention on the autumn scenery outside. It wasn’t until we were a few minutes from our destination that she picked up the conversation once more.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
I didn’t know if her gratitude was in reference to switching our location or for not asking questions. Perhaps both. Regardless, I nodded and replied, “You’re welcome.” Her comfort would always come first, a decision I’d made years ago.
I’d meant to bite her that fateful night, to sate the blood thirst my darker side required. But her essence had captivated me—part Midnight Fae, part human. A rare combination, marking her as a Halfling.
And she had no idea.
That would change very soon. I just needed to garner some trust first. It would help ease the acceptance of her birthright.
Well, that was the plan, anyway.
But something told me Isabella Cinder would never make it that easy.
I parked in the run-down lot outside Benji’s and killed the engine. “Ready for the best chicken wings ever?” I asked.
She frowned at me. “You say that like you’ve eaten here many times before.”
“Because I have,” I admitted, jumping out of the car and wandering around to open her door.
She didn’t freeze this time or stay seated, but her brows were drawn down as her feet met the concrete. “But you just moved here, right?”
I smiled. “Did I?”
“Uh, yeah. You just started at the academy this week.”
After closing her door, I locked up the car. We could mess with our interview notes later.