Eight
Come morning, I arrived at the Forked Tail with a slight headache. Alcohol didn't affect demons the same way as humans but when mixed with sloth, that was a real party.
I made my way in through the kitchen entrance and waved at Trevor prepping vegetables at one of the counters. On the opposite side, I could see Lana's shoulders move as she was cutting something on her board.
She turned around when she heard me come in and nestled her hands on her hips. "You're late."
With a glance at my watch, I hung up my bag on one of the coat hangers. "Only by five minutes."
"Which is twenty minutes later than usual," she countered, her hard gaze boring into me.
Maybe someone else would've been intimidated by that look but I certainly wasn't.
"So I guess you owe me fifteen minutes overtime
