Lachlan leaned against the edge of the long table like it was a bar and not the spine of a barricaded foyer.
He plucked an apple from the bowl, polished it against his shirt, and sank his teeth in with theatrical crunch.
Juice dripped down his thumb. He licked it clean, grinning at no one in particular.
"I'm too old to be scared of the dark," he said around the mouthful.
The bravado hung in the warm lantern-lit air. A couple of Rafael's men glanced over but didn't bite. They kept working, bolting shutters and setting lanterns into place.
Rafael didn't answer either. He tipped his head slightly, listening to something only he seemed to hear, and sighed through his nose. The sound was soft, final.
"Tornado Tuesday," he said. His voice was flat, no theatrics. "Everyone, get into the tunnels."
That broke the stillness.
