“Yes?” Zaniel silences him with an icy glare. The fish man’s fear is contagious. My hand is shaking on my teacup, making it rattle against the counter. The sound startles me and the fish man into staring straight ahead.

“Please, okyaku-sama, have a seat! Suwatte kudasai! Kitsune udon?” asks the fox man. “Your friend enjoyed!”

“I’m okay, thank you,” Zaniel says in Japanese. He stands behind me and gently puts his hands on my shoulders. How can his hands be so warm when it’s getting so freaking cold out?

“I’m okay, too, actually —” I say. I want to pay the bill and go.

“Oh, don’t worry about being polite! You must be starving after such a long day. You’re a hard worker, I can tell! Hai, okawari douzo!” The fox man winks at me again as he places a fresh serving of udon before me. I don’t know how I ate that giant bowl so fast, but I worry about exploding with another bite. Under the circumstances, I think as Zaniel slides in next to me like a slippery eel, I’ll risk it.

Zaniel accepts a hot mug of green tea from the fox man with both hands. He takes his sweet-ass time, sipping it like he was starring in a commercial for the most relaxing tea, brewed by monks in the mountains under waterfalls. I want to throw it in his face — scorch off that sexy smirk of his.

“You’re looking better,” he says to me, switching to English. “Happier, I mean. That place must stress you out. They always keep you this late?”

I shrug. What do I do first? Wait for my udon to cool down, so I don’t have to slurp the noodles and look like a gluttonous freak? Stuff my mouth with noodles so I don’t have to talk? Knock the bowl into his lap and run like hell? Okay, that one is not happening. My appetite is coming back and I’m not wasting good food on this weirdo.

He grins as if he’s read my mind. “No need to be polite around me. You go ahead and eat. It’ll give me time to explain myself.”