I looked out the window of the car as Lucian drove. It was strange how one's life could change in just a minute. A month ago, I thought my biggest problem was climbing the corporate ladder and finding the time to sleep andaking Jessica and Gabriel pay.
Now I was juggling murder accusations, cryptic death gods, and a mark on my shoulder that screamed chosen one.
And guess what? I do not want to be a chosen one.
Lucian's car smelled faintly of leather and something musky, expensive. I glanced at him, his hands steady on the steering wheel, his expression unreadable.
His face was set in a hard line and like usual he was dress in black. I turned back to look out the window again, clasping my palms together.
"Do you have plans tomorrow?" he asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
I blinked at him. "Why?"
"Just curious," he said, his tone even, though his gaze flicked toward me briefly, his dark eyes holding something I couldn't quite place.