“I wish I knew how to do that,” I said, and I finally saw a hint of expression: bafflement.
“Huh? Do what?”
“Keep my face from showing how I feel. I’ve never seen anyone as good at it as you. I mean, Brian does good lawyer face, but he can’t do it under extreme duress—”
“May I have a cup of coffee, or not?”
Okay, so I’d been babbling. It wasn’t the first time. “Depends on whether you’re going to give Dominic up to Saul or not.”
He blinked. “It matters to you that much?”
I was seriously tempted to throw my scalding hot coffee in his face. I managed to refrain, but it wasn’t easy. “He’s my friend,” I said. “I don’t want to lose him to some demon I don’t know. Hell, I don’t want to lose him at all! He’s a truly good, decent human being, and he doesn’t deserve to be tossed aside!”
“I don’t want to lose him, either,” Adam said, his voice quiet, his eyes haunted.
“But you’ll give him up to your good buddy Saul anyway,” I said bitterly. I almost said something scathing about how he’d be able to practice his more sickening habits in the privacy of his own home once more, but for once I managed to think about my words before blurting them out. I might never understand how demons think, I might never be able to forgive Adam for giving up Dom, but only an idiot wouldn’t see how much the idea hurt him, and there was no point in making it worse.
Adam shook his head, and for the first time since I’d conveyed Lugh’s request, he met my eyes. “Not without a fight, I won’t.”
My jaw fell open, and I put the cup of coffee down before I dropped it. “You mean to tell me you’re not going to do what Lugh wants?”
He leaned against one wall of the kitchen, folding his arms over his chest in what might have been a defensive gesture. “I told you before. I like Saul. I love Dom.”
“Yeah, but you also told me once before that if you were put in a position where killing Dom would be the ‘right’ thing to do, you’d do it and not feel guilty.” And in telling me that, he’d made me see just how foreign demons could be, even though their psyches so resemble those of humans.
“Turns out that’s easier said than done.”
My opinion of him improved exponentially. I even poured him a cup of coffee, which he accepted gratefully. I guess he needed warmth and comfort, too.
“Just so we’re clear,” I said, picking up my own coffee once more, “you’re not going to tell Dom about Lugh’s request?”
Adam’s mouth tightened into a grim line. “I’ll tell him.” He held up his hand to stop the sharp retort that I’d been about to make. “He’s a grown man. It’s not my right to make this decision for him. If he wants to take Saul back, then I won’t stand in his way.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
I was still indignant over what seemed to be a change of mind on Adam’s part, and I was moments away from telling him exactly what I thought of him, when once again I managed to restrain a knee-jerk reaction. This was twice in one day, and I was beginning to think I might be gaining some maturity. What a concept!
Adam wasn’t hiding his expressions now, and I found I could read him easily. He’d give Dom the chance to take Saul back, because if he didn’t, he’d never know whether Dom would have chosen Saul over him. Was there, perhaps, a hint of insecurity under that usually arrogant facade?
“As long as you make it clear that it’s Dominic you want, not Saul, he’ll make the right decision,” I said, and I really believed it. Yeah, Dom was the hero type, but there was no question in my mind that he’d choose love over heroism, as long as Adam didn’t make it sound like he’d rather have Saul.
“Ah,” Adam said, “that’s why you asked whether I’d told him about my visits to Hell.”
I nodded. Better for Dom not to know about that, not to doubt that Adam was completely satisfied with him.
Adam scrubbed a hand through his hair and put his coffee down, having not taken a single swallow. “I’m going to go downstairs and question the security people.” One corner of his mouth lifted in his trademark sardonic grin. The expression was a bit off, but it was a valiant effort. “That’ll give me some time to pull myself together before I talk to Dom.”
“Good idea,” I agreed, though I wasn’t sure he was in the best frame of mind to do any investigative work right now. “Will you call me later? Let me know what happens?”
He nodded, but didn’t say anything. His poker face had definitely deserted him, and he looked worried and unhappy as he headed toward my door. It wouldn’t be at all unusual for him to leave without another word, and it wouldn’t be at all unusual for me to let him. But today I just couldn’t let him walk out like that.
“Adam?” I said before he’d gotten halfway to the door. He turned back to face me. He didn’t speak, just raised an eyebrow in inquiry.
An instinct I didn’t understand made me approach him and, to our mutual surprise, give him a hug. “It’ll be all right,” I said.
I felt ridiculous speaking words of comfort to Adam. I felt even more ridiculous hugging him. I don’t want to know what shade of red my face turned, and I released him so fast I’m sure it would have looked comical to the outside observer. I didn’t have the nerve to look at him, and I told myself that if he laughed, I was going to deck him and damn the consequences. But he didn’t laugh.
“Thank you,” he said softly, but I still didn’t have the courage to face him. He patted me awkwardly on the shoulder, his own unpracticed gesture of support.
My face was still burning, my eyes still fixed on the floor, when I heard the door close behind him.
CHAPTER 17
Apparently, even in the midst of his inner turmoil, Adam was an effective investigator. He learned that the two goons had gotten in by convincing Mrs. Schwartz, one of my building’s ubiquitous LOLs, that they were insurance agents. She’d met them at the coffee shop around the corner, and they’d followed her into the building like little ducklings. Mrs. Schwartz had then spent a half hour discussing her insurance needs with the two “charming” young men. They’d left her apartment at around five in the afternoon, which meant they’d been loitering around the building for hours before their quarry—me—had finally shown up. The security personnel were much more interested in who was coming in the building, rather than who was going out, so no one noticed that the goons had remained far longer than insurance agents would have.
They hadn’t been wearing the dark glasses when Mrs. Schwartz had brought them into the building, but once she vouched for them, neither the doorman nor the front desk clerk paid any attention to them. They barely even remembered seeing them, and certainly couldn’t give a reliable description. Mrs. Schwartz couldn’t either, on account of her cataracts. There was footage from the security camera in the elevator, but the goons must have been aware of it, for they were careful not to show their faces.
Adam had informed me of these meager details by phone on his way home to Dom. He’d then made a point of telling me he’d call me tomorrow, which meant I’d be spending the rest of the night sweating the results of their conversation.
I thought I’d have a lot of trouble falling asleep that night. I was wrong. I suppose sometimes pain and stress can make you toss and turn all night, and sometimes it can just exhaust you until you can’t keep your eyes open.
I doubt I got more than a couple of minutes of blissful, uninterrupted sleep before I “awoke” to find myself in Lugh’s throne room. I was seated on a short, hard chair at the base of the dais, looking up at Lugh on his throne. I guessed that meant I was supposed to be some kind of supplicant, but I doubt he was surprised that I rejected the role.
I stood up and mounted the stairs to the dais. It was easier this time than last, since he hadn’t bothered to dress me in period costume.
He was dressed once more in crimson velvet with gold accents, though I don’t think it was exactly the same outfit, just a similar one. Naturally, he looked good enough to eat, even if the throne and crown were just a tad off-putting. He sat ramrod straight, his gorgeous, chiseled face set in an expression I couldn’t read. I didn’t think he was happy. But then, neither was I.