CHAPTER NINETEEN
MINA WATCHED FROM THE corner as Sam shifted and twitched behind the counter of his own shop, every once in a while glancing sidelong at Rhys in between staring at Ivan. She was curious about what was making self-possessed Sam so uncomfortable in his own domain. It wasn't the behemoth — Ivan might be a mountain with a shaved, tattooed head bedazzled by piercings, but that was nothing Sam hadn't seen before, and Sam seemed fine gawping openly at him. It wasn't Bee either, even though she was the one interrogating the behemoth; Sam mostly ignored her. Instead, his gaze kept flicking back to Rhys. Her head tipped sideways as she peered at Rhys herself, trying to understand what about the old bookworm unsettled Sam.
"Why shouldn't I just kill you?" Bee stood pillar straight,
