As soon as Raphael pulled his generic gray sedan away from the curb, Malachi and I got into my beat-up, old Corolla. I sat there for a second, my heart skipping, unable to believe I was in a car with Malachi, overwhelmed by the complete ordinariness of the moment, no matter how bizarre the circumstances. I glanced over to gauge his reaction, only to find him staring at me.

“What’s wrong?”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “I want to kiss you.”

And with those simple words, the temperature inside the car rose by about a thousand degrees. “Yeah?” I asked, stupidly breathless.

He leaned forward slowly. “May I?”

“We shouldn’t … we should go … and maybe Diane is—”

Then his fingertips skimmed along my jawline, destroying my resistance.

“Just one,” I whispered.

I didn’t have time to say anything else before his lips met mine, setting me on fire, making me feel like the earth was falling out from under me. My hand slid up to his neck, to the smooth, silver-swirled scar that was a souvenir from Juri, a deadly Mazikin and the first person—no, thing—I’d ever killed. Malachi’s tongue traced mine as our kiss deepened and my thoughts scattered, leaving me with only the taste of him, the halting rhythm of our breaths, and a bone-melting hunger. His fingers tangled in my unruly curls as he scooted closer. I put my hand on his chest to feel the thunder of his heart against my palm. But when my fingers drifted to his stomach, they did not find the hard ridges of muscle I’d expected. Malachi felt the tremble of laughter run through me and pulled back from my mouth. “I had to put them somewhere.”

I looked toward the front of the house, expecting to see Diane peeking at us through the curtains, but there was no sign of her. Plus, the sun had already dipped below the horizon, so I figured it was dark enough. I tugged his hoodie up, revealing the six throwing knives holstered against his torso.

“I knew you’d come prepared,” I said.

“I brought you some as well.” He pulled a pack from the backseat. “Michael dropped these off for us this afternoon, and Raphael tucked them in here when we arrived this evening.”

I unzipped the pack a few inches and peered inside, taking in the knives, two batons, and—good God: “He gave us grenades?”

“It will be up to you whether we use them or not. You are the Captain, after all,” he said as he moved back to his side of the car and watched me take a few shaky breaths. “You’re going to be fine, Lela. I’m here to help you.”