He shrugged. “They’re all so old, with thousands of people passing through over the centuries, that they’re usually haunted. Someone inevitably dies and doesn’t want to leave the party.”
Made sense. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, noting the controlled way he drove the car. Minimal movement, no jerking or speeding up too quickly. Certainly no slamming on the breaks.
Everything about Roarke was precise. Controlled.
Like how he hadn’t kissed me since that first time four days ago.
Why was that?
Just the memory made my skin heat. It’d been the best kiss I’d ever had. He’d clearly wanted me. He’d even said he liked me. That I was special. Which, I’d admit, I liked. A heck of a lot. Who wouldn’t?
But since then, he hadn’t made a single move. Except to look at me. And boy, did he look. I could feel the heat of his gaze like fire. They weren’t neutral glances. Nor even friendly.
He wanted me.
But he did nothing about it. Didn’t even talk to me, really.
“So, how do you know this guy at Cambridge?” I asked, desperate to get my mind off the mystery of Roarke. “What exactly did he help you with?”
He glanced at me quickly, indecision on his face. “Something I couldn’t do myself.”
Talk about dodging the question. “Yeah, I know. How?”
I was prying, but I didn’t care. I wanted something to prove I knew him. That I could trust him. That I wasn’t being an idiot for liking him.
He sighed so quietly and briefly I almost didn’t catch it. “Horatio, who we’re going to see, was friends with someone I cared for. He tried to help him but couldn’t.”
“Your brother?”
“Oh, look, we’re here.” He pulled the car to the curb and turned it off, hopping out so quickly that one could assume the car was on fire.
So, looked like I wouldn’t be getting answers to my questions any time soon. Roarke’s secrets would stay his secrets. And it was damned hard to trust someone who kept so many.
It was damned hard, but I managed not to dwell on the fact that I, too, kept many secrets. If I was going to be a hypocrite, I wasn’t going to think so hard on it.
I followed Roarke across the street, dodging a group of fae revelers. Their wings drooped slightly, a clear sign of fae drunkenness. We dodged them and continued on.
It wasn’t late, but the party started early here in the Historic District. This part of town had the highest percentage of bars per street, so folks usually came here to party. P & P was where the hipsters went, the ones who wanted to play checkers while sipping old Scotch. The Historic District was where you went if you wanted to dance in bars while drinking dollar shots.
I liked both options.
Roarke led me into the alley, reaching for my hand as we neared the spot in the wall where the portal was hidden from all eyes but Roarke’s. I gripped his hand tightly, not wanting to become separated. He’d made it clear how dangerous that could be.
Roarke squeezed back, making my heart speed up at the feel of his palm beneath mine.
No matter how much my conscious mind might be wary of him, my subconscious was ready to get aboard the Roarke train. Headed to Roarke & Me City, population: 2.
I snickered at my stupid humor, then glanced up at him to see him watching me with that same strange expression. His dark eyes were hot, but his hands were clenched in fists. Like he wanted to reach out and touch but didn’t dare.
“Ready?” I demanded, annoyed with the mixed signals of hot eyes and cold behavior.
“Yeah.” He tugged me forward gently. “Remember, don’t let go.”
“I know.”
For good measure, he looped his arm over my head and wrapped it around my shoulder, making me shift my arm so that I could maintain my grip on his hand. I shivered at the heat of him against my side.
He reached for the wall, light glowing around his hand. Magic surged on the air, moving outward from his palm toward the wall. The familiar pale gray glow lit the wall, looking a bit like a passage.
We stepped in, darkness crashing around us as gravity disappeared. I clung to the feeling of Roarke at my side as my stomach plunged. The ether sucked us in, sending us on a rollercoaster through the blackness.
A moment later, we slowed. A door glowed in front of us, and Roarke pulled me through, then let go of me and stepped away as soon as physically possible. Like I burned him.
Only problem was that we walked straight into the middle of a rollicking bar fight. I shoved aside one guy who nearly flattened me, and Roarke stepped between two others.
“Settle down.” His voice was deep and commanding.
The men immediately stopped fighting, but didn’t look at Roarke. The enchantment that obscured activity around the Underpath entrance kept the men from realizing we’d just walked out of nowhere, but they’d still responded to the command in his voice.
With the fight settled, the pub was cozy, lit with Christmas lights that looked like they stayed up year round. It was late, probably past midnight, but the pub was still full of happy people. Two ghosts sat in the corner, visible only to me. They waved. I tried to ignore them, looking around the room instead. A fire blazed in the hearth, next to which sat a demon.
I blinked, then squinted.
Yep. A demon. He could pass for human, but something in his strange gaze—which was riveted on me—was clearly demon. Could I recognize him because of my Ubilaz powers?
This pub was full of supernaturals, but all of them passed for human, and there was no way a demon would be allowed in a place like this.
He stood, his eyes still trained on me, and stepped toward us. I turned my gaze straight ahead as we wove through the tables of patrons drinking pints of dark beer, but kept my senses alert in case he followed us.
It was snowing when we stepped outside, fat fluffy flakes falling on the historic street. I shivered and zipped my jacket. It was dead quiet out here—not a person to be seen on the entire street. Behind us, the buildings were Tudor, their distinct black timber and white plaster looking so perfect that you’d think it was Disney World’s version of England. Except it was legit. On the other side of the street, the massive, ornate stone buildings of the university soared into the dark night. They looked like the fanciest old churches America could boast, with intricate stone architecture and ornate glass windows, but most were probably academic buildings.
I looked up at Roarke. “It’s possible we’re being followed.”
“I noticed that.” Roarke turned left and headed down the street at a fast pace.
I followed. “He was a demon, right? Even though he looked human?”
“Yeah.” Roarke studied the university buildings as we hurried along. A tall wrought iron wall separated them from the street.
I glanced behind us, noting the demon stepping out of the pub and looking around. He was only ten yards behind and closing in fast.
There was nowhere I could go in the whole world that demons wouldn’t perk up at the sight of me and follow.
I stopped and turned, meeting the demon head on.