Nightfall (Devil's Night, #4)

by Penelope Douglas

“Show me some moves?” I asked, breathing hard as I removed my glasses. He stopped and straightened, scowling at me. “Why would I do that?” “What do you want in return?” He grinned, and I arched an eyebrow at him. I was pretty sure he didn’t want that. “A sandwich,” he said. I snorted, not missing the intended insult about a woman’s place. But it wasn’t a horrible idea. I’d have an excuse to be in the kitchen with access to the food. Even if someone kept an eye on me, I could hoard away something. It might come in handy if I needed to run or hide for an extended period of time. “A Philly cheesesteak sandwich?” I clarified, upping the ante. It wasn’t kosher, so I couldn’t eat it. It was one of the few rules I followed. But I’d make it for them. That kind of sandwich would take longer than ten minutes to cook, giving me plenty of time in the kitchen. His face lit up. “Really?” I held up fists, widening my stance as my answer. He smiled and took up position opposite of me, bidding me to attack. “Let’s do this.”