Green-Eyed Demon
Page 28

My first instinct was to tell him I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. But in the end, curiosity got the better of me, so I nodded.
“Your guilt is just an excuse to avoid facing your fear of intimacy.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but the knowing look the demon shot me then told me I’d be wasting my breath. Because, really, who was I kidding? “Let’s say you’re right,” I said slowly. “What do I do about it?”
“Well, first of all, you’re going to have to make the first move. Adam knows you’re skittish and doesn’t want to scare you off.”
“When exactly am I supposed to stage this seduction?” I leaned forward. “Tonight in the cemetery during the voodoo ritual, or right before I kill my grandmother?”
Giguhl rolled his eyes. “You’ll know the right time. Trust that shit. The trick is not sabotaging the moment because you’re too chicken to let yourself be happy.”
“Okay, so let’s say for the sake of argument I make a move and everything works out.” My stomach did a little flip-flop at the idea of seducing Adam. “What about the Slade thing?”
He looked me right in the eye and said, “You don’t tell him.”
“But—”
“No, you can’t tell him. If what you say is true and the thing with Slade didn’t mean anything, then I say what Adam doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, how do we know Adam didn’t get himself a little piece of faery ass while he was in North Carolina?”
That stopped me. A red haze dripped down over my vision at the mere thought of Adam cavorting with another female. “He wouldn’t do that.”
“Sabina, he’s a male,” Giguhl said. “He’d totally do that, especially when you’ve been so quick to deny any interest in him every time it comes up.”
My fists clenched in response. Giguhl must have sensed my competitive streak rising to the surface, because he soldiered on. “Are you really gonna let some trampy faery steal your man?”
My eyes narrowed. “No!”
Giguhl clapped a claw on my back. “That’s my girl.”
My resolve sputtered. “But what do I do until the right moment presents itself?”
The demon patted me on the arm. “Just act natural. Be yourself.”
Oh, right, sure. Most days when I looked in the mirror I felt like I was looking at a stranger. How the hell was I supposed to be myself when the mere thought of being that emotionally vulnerable made me want to cut my losses and run the hell away?
Right then, the apartment door opened in the living room, announcing Adam’s arrival. Giguhl shot me a meaningful look as he rose from the bed.
A second later, Adam’s sandy head poked around the doorframe. “What’s up?”
I froze. Normally I would have used the opportunity to embarrass both males about the aborted sleep sex. But now all I could do was stare at Adam, feeling completely self-conscious.
“Sabina?” he said, coming farther into the room. Next to me, Giguhl cleared his throat, a not-so-subtle reminder. “Everything okay?” Adam continued.
My eyes darted wildly about the room as I searched for something to say. When my gaze landed on the clothes I left on the bedside table, I jumped up. “I need a shower.”
I grabbed the clothes and brushed past a very confused mage before seeking refuge in the bathroom. Through the door, I heard Adam call, “Make it quick.” Then, in a lower tone to Giguhl: “What’s her deal?”
“You know, Red. She’s never quite herself ”— he raised his volume to make sure I got the message— “when she first wakes up.”
Thirty minutes— and a strident lecture with myself— later, I descended the steps to find everyone gathered at the store’s counter again. It stuck me as odd that Zen’s store always seemed empty, but then I remembered my nocturnal nature meant I missed out on her key business hours.
Adam and Zen’s heads were bent over a book when I walked up. The mage glanced up. “Hey. Your blood’s over there.” He tilted his head to indicate the far corner of the desk.
“Thanks.” I tamped down the hangover of self-consciousness from earlier. Like Giguhl said, until an opportunity presented itself, I needed to keep my head in the game. Allowing this Adam thing to distract me like I was some angsty teenager with a crush would be a colossal mistake.
While I broke open the container of blood, I tried to look over Adam’s shoulder at the book. “What’s that?”
Adam looked up and wrinkled his nose at the pot of blood that was about four inches from his face. I pulled it away immediately with a mumbled apology.
As I took my first sip he said, “We were just going over the ritual for tonight to make sure we didn’t forget anything.”
I nodded and looked around for Giguhl but didn’t find him. “Where’s Mr. Giggles?”
Adam jerked a thumb toward the stairs. “He’s helping Brooks with his costume for tonight.”
Zen closed the book and made a final note on the list she’d been making. “Adam said you guys had some trouble with Mac last night.”
I quickly swallowed the mouthful of blood. “She was pretty pissed.”
She clucked her tongue. “I wouldn’t bet on her forgiving you anytime soon, either. Werewolves love to hold grudges.”
I looked at Adam. “It’s unfortunate, but we have bigger issues to deal with. Like the fact we’re still no closer to finding Maisie, or who Lavinia’s informant is, or what she’s planning.” Frustration made my chest feel full and heavy. I set the blood on the counter. “It seems like we’ve been feeling our way through this, reacting to everything Lavinia’s thrown at us instead of being proactive.”
“The ritual should help,” Zen said. “The spirits will tell us where to find your twin.”
I wished I shared her optimism. But honestly? I didn’t put much stock in voodoo as a problem solver. Sure, mage magic was powerful and effective for a variety of problems. Mages were created by the goddess Hekate— their very birthright was the ability to harness magic. But humans? I knew a lot of mortals dabbled in arcane arts, but to me that seemed more superstition and elaborate ceremony than real magic. And of course there were also those like the palm readers in Jackson Square who preyed on the superstitions of naive mortals to make money. The fact that Zen was part mage didn’t mean much to me, either. Generations of genetic dilution had to have stunted her ability to tap into the same sources of power as a full mage.
However, Adam had read the ritual and seemed to believe it would help, so I was willing to go along with it. What other options did I have at that point, anyway? “What could it hurt?” I said with a shrug.
Zen gathered her book and notes. “With that resounding endorsement, I’m off to ready the last few supplies. Be ready to head out in an hour.”
Zen disappeared into the back office. Adam continued going over the spell while I polished off the blood. A knock at the front door had me setting down my mug and reaching for my gun.
Adam and I exchanged alert, cautious glances. He got my back while I made my way toward the front. I stayed to the side of the door just in case someone decided to take a cheap shot through the shaded window. But when I pulled back the shade, Georgia smiled and waved back.
Releasing the breath I’d been holding, I flipped the deadbolts and threw open the door. Georgia strolled right in wearing a pair of skinny black jeans, a green chiffon tank covered with a black cardigan, and ballet flats. For a woman who presumably spent the better part of the night embroiled in a lovers’ spat, her demeanor seemed downright cheery.
“Hey, y’all.”
I glanced behind her, fully expecting the sullen face of a certain werewolf to follow her in. Georgia saw the look and said, “Don’t worry. I’m alone.”
I closed and locked the door before turning back to her. Adam joined us, nodding a greeting to the vamp. “What’s up?”
“I’ve come to offer my help,” she said, raising her hands in a magnanimous gesture.
I squinted at her. “Help with what, exactly?”
“Defeating your grandmother, obviously.”
“But I thought Mac didn’t want you to—” Adam began.
Georgia slashed a hand through the air, cutting him off. “That’s between Mac and me. All I’ll say on that matter is it would mean a lot to me if you’d keep our relationship under your hats. What with mating between the races being forbidden and all. Especially when one of the lovers involved is the niece of the Alpha of New York.”
“I’d imagine Michael Romulus wouldn’t be so keen on the lesbian thing, either,” Adam said. “He’d want an advantageous male match for Mac to strengthen the pack.”
Georgia nodded solemnly. “That, too.”
I sighed and crossed my arms. “Look, Georgia, I’m the last person to be scandalized by your relationship. I’m a mixed-blood myself, remember?”
“That exactly what I told Mac,” Georgia sighed. “But she can be a tad ….. unreasonable when it comes to protecting our privacy.”
I shrugged. “Like I said, if Michael Romulus finds out about you two, it won’t be from Adam or me.”
Adam nodded his agreement. “Is that what really brought you here?”
Georgia shook her head. “No I came here to offer you the assistance of eight able-bodied vamps.”
“How exactly do you think you can help us?” Adam asked.
Georgia strolled over to a shelf containing a collection of candles. She lifted a black one with a skull painted on the glass. “You guys want to find Sabina’s grandmother, right?”
I crossed my arms and bobbed my head. “Technically, we’re trying to find my sister, but they’ll be in the same place.”
“Well who better to help you find someone in New Orleans than a group of local vampires? We know every nook and cranny and feeding ground in the city.”