Eleanor stared at me as I press an envelope across the counter. She takes it, opening it, counting it quickly. She sets it under the counter with a nod.

"Where did you get this?"

I smile. "Was...questions apart of exchange? Where's my recommendation."

Eleanor is in a green dress. It's emerald green, and it's collar reaches up her neck. This green dress is a dress I've never seen.

In fact, I've never seen her in green before.

It settles on her skin, as she looks at a book over her glasses, turning the page.

"What are you in the mood for?" She asks gently.

I want to tell her the truth. I'm in the mood to lock this door, spread her open and consume her in every meaning of the word.

But I don't want to mix sex with money. Don't want her to cheapen our exchanges.

So I settle for another response. "Romance. Something sordid. What do you suggest."

She smirks, raising her brow. "Ah...sex. Yes...you're sinful like that. I have something you might like."

She grabs a book off a high shelf, it's spine against the wall, only it's pages showing. It must be scandalous.

It's weathered, the pages are dog eared, the cover is rubbed if it's image in the bottom left corner. This her personal copy.

I take it from her hands. Confessions of a Lustful Woman.

I look to at her. She smiles. "Five stars."

I open it. "Hm. I look forward to it. It seems...interesting."

She smiles softly, raising her hand to her lips. Beckoning me, is she? Inviting me? Must I decline?

Must I?

I must.

"I have a close companion," I start, tucking the book under my arm. "His name is Liam. And he's unruly child, really."

She smiles. "Companion? You? I got the feeling you were of the...solitary persuasion."

I smile. "I usually am. He's taken camp in my home and won't leave. I've gotten used to his presence and can't be bothered to oust him."

"A begrudging hero," she raises her brow.

"Hero? Count me among the lesser men. Count me truer still, among the lesser devils."

"The devil was once an Angel," she offers ever so softly a word of encouragement.

"An Angel? I was never...anything as lofty. But a man. I was once a man."

She's quiet for a little bit, staring at me over those glasses, thin rims. Then she leans over, tastes my lips, softly.

Presses them against mine, almost innocent, reassuring. She tastes of honey on my tongue, golden like she is, in this green dress, in this bookshop, that she'll own this time next week.

• • •

Sinclair was a wily woman of such a lustful persuasion, she often found herself fantasizing of men she'd seen in passing.

"I take it you had a ball with your lady friend,"

I glance up from my book. "I saw Eleanor and we had a perfectly charming time."

"I saw Eleanor and we—" he mocks me. I roll my eyes. "That's what you sound like. Total prick."

"Until you pay bills I'll have you keep your thoughts to yourself," I raise my brow, pulling his leg. "And stop floating about round the house, you'll call attention to us and have us impaled."

"Would we die?" He asked sipping his cola.

I raise a brow. "I haven't tried nor have I the urge to."

"It seems like a diverting time," Liam grins. "I know I'll walk in church, dance in the holy water, and do a little spell."

"A little spell," I repeat waving my hands. "You're an idiot!"

Liam shrugs, coming down into my shoulders, wrapping his arms around my neck. "Ah, Alastair. You haven't fed in oh so very long. Will you waste away?"

I sigh. "I'll be fine. You...however must feed soon."

Liam smiles. "Alastair...you're beautiful did you know that?"

I smile back ever softly. His hands tangle in blonde hair. He slumps on my shoulder. Too much cola.

"Thank you. Liam."