Odette's POV:
The ride was too quiet.
Too damn quiet.
If the silence could kill, I'd already be buried, reincarnated, and probably haunting Evander just to complain about it.
The car hummed steadily over the gravel path, the low growl of the engine filling the space between us. I sat stiffly, hands knotted in my lap, trying not to breathe too loudly. The air was cold and clean — the kind that smelled expensive. I could feel the faint vibration of other vehicles behind us, the sound of boots, of engines — way too many.
I tilted my head slightly, pretending I couldn't care less. "Um," I said finally, breaking the silence, "you know it's just tea, right?"
No answer.
Of course.
I turned my face toward where his voice usually came from — low, composed, somewhere on my right. "Why are you bringing so many people? What, are we declaring war on a café?"
Still nothing.