Rule had a sudden vision of helping her discover her creative side that had his arms tightening around her. Before he could make any suggestions, though, he heard a brisk knock at the door and someone counting down from ten on the other side.
"What the—?”
"Ready or not, here I come." The door swung open and Tess hurried inside. She took one look at the room's occupants and shut the door behind her. "Looks like you aren't ready.”
"Tess, what are you—?”
"You can yell at me for interrupting later," she said, striding forward and tugging her sweatshirt off over her head. Beneath it, she wore a black tank top with a round neck and wide straps. She held the shirt out to Abby. "Here. Put this on.”
"Why?”
Tess raised an eyebrow. "Because while you might have forgotten about the fact that you're sitting there stark naked, I can assure you that that fact will not escape your brother's notice when he gets here in approximately," she glanced at her watch, "thirty more seconds.”
Rule watched the color drain from Abby's face, then return in a rush as she disappeared and then reemerged from the neck of the sweatshirt. It was oversize, so it covered her all the way past her hips, but her legs were still bare and pale in the lamplight.
Tess ushered her to the sofa. "Sit. Put this over your legs." She grabbed a soft knit throw off the back of the sofa and tucked it around Abby's legs. Nodding decisively, Tess grabbed a book from the coffee table, opened it to a random page, and thrust it into the other woman's hands. "Here. You've suddenly developed an intense fascination for..." Again she paused, this time to glance at the cover of the book. "Pennsylvania's covered stone bridges.”
Leaving Abby dazed but compliant on the sofa, Tess turned her assessing eye on Rule. Then she rolled both of them. "For God's sake, zip up, pal.”
Rule nearly blushed himself as he adjusted and refastened his jeans.
"And next time, try not to leave torn clothes all over my husband's office, will you? He works hard in here and doesn't need you providing fodder for his overactive imagination." Tess grabbed a handful of fabric scraps and shoved them into a wastebasket before she took a last glance around the room and nodded in apparent satisfaction. "Good.”
She had barely gotten the word out when the office door swung open again and Noah walked in. He made one sweeping survey of the room before he turned directly to Rule.
"There's someone here to see you," Noah said, his tone calm and casual. "Big guy, red hair. Won't talk to me. Graham put him in his office by the main entrance." He turned to Tess and raised his eyebrows. "I looked for Rule in the billiard room, like you said, but your husband told me he'd last spotted him in here. When the two of you were leaving.”
Tess didn't even stutter. "Was that when? I knew I'd seen him recently, but I have the worst memory for details.”
"Right.”
Rule looked from the witch to the warrior and was glad neither of them was working against him. At the moment. He cleared his throat. "I'd better go down and see what's going on. Keep an eye on your sister.”
When he strode out into the hallway, it felt like the closest escape he'd managed in a long, long time. He just hoped Noah wouldn't notice the unmistakable bruise he'd left at the base of Abby's throat. Like he'd already decided, he didn't want Noah working against him.
Tess made her excuses and left the office right behind Rule, leaving Abby alone with her big brother. The big brother who had scared away every male who had ever looked at her for just a few seconds too long while she'd been growing up. He circled around the end of the sofa and settled onto the cushion at her feet.
"New hobby of yours?" He nodded to the book in her hands, his expression utterly bland.
Abby looked down at the forgotten prop and tried to make her shrug casual. "Just something to do. You know how bored I've been the last few days." She closed the book and laid it down in her lap. "How's the search going?”
"About like it was when you asked me a couple of hours ago," he said. "You going to snap again when I tell you that?”
"No. I know you're doing your best.”
Noah nodded. "Glad to hear that.”
A moment of silence stretched between them and Abby tried not to squirm under her brother's gaze, but that was easier said than done when she could feel how wet and sticky she was from her and Rule's recent activities. She really wished she'd had time for a shower before she'd had to face Noah again.
"So," he said, his voice just as bland as his expression, "have you been managing to entertain yourself?”
She drew in a quick breath, then blew it out and slumped against the arm of the sofa. "How did you know?”
He shook his head. "It wasn't hard to figure out, Ab. You and Rule both looked like kids who'd gotten caught sneaking cookies before dinnertime. His hair looked like someone had been running their fingers through it for the last couple of hours, and you have a hickey on your throat the size of a Bradley Fighting Vehicle." His mouth twisted. "Plus, I'm pretty sure that's your bra on the floor next to the fireplace.”
Abby buried her flaming face in her hands. "God, this is so embarrassing.”
Noah snorted. "Why? I'm not Mom and Dad. It's not like I expected you to stay a virgin until your wedding night. Not," he held up a hand, "that I want to hear any details, but I'm not your keeper.”
"That's not how you felt when I was growing up.”
"Christ, Abby, you were eight years younger than me, and the guys in my platoon were horny dogs. You're damned right I told them I'd kill 'em if they touched you.”
"Just as long as you've changed your mind.”
"Well, I'll kill anyone who hurts you," Noah qualified, "so I have to say that on a practical level, I kind of wish you'd gone for someone a little easier to take down, like a professional wrestler or something. But like I said, I'm not your keeper. And I'm not your conscience.”
Abby grimaced. He'd had to bring up the c word. She plucked at the throw blanket's braided trim. "Yeah, well, I don't think anyone's being my conscience at the moment. Not even me.”
"What are you talking about?”
She pulled a face at him. "I just had sex with someone I've known for less than a week, No. My conscience is clearly on the fritz, along with my common sense and any sense of self-preservation I may once have had.”
Noah shook his head. "Abby, from what I can tell, you just slept with an honorable, responsible, capable guy who happens to go all twisted with lust every time you step into the room." He looked at her expression and snorted. "Yeah, I noticed that. I think the staff in the kitchens downstairs noticed that. You're both healthy, consenting adults. What's wrong with that?”
"What's wrong with that?" she repeated and waved a hand in front of his face. "Hello! Anybody home? Aside from the whole known-him-less-than-a-week thing that I already mentioned, there's the fact that the meeting happened when he kidnapped me.”
"He didn't stuff you into a van and call Mom and Dad for a ransom, Ab.”
"So what? He's responsible for me being confined someplace against my will. There's a term for stupid idiot girls who fall in love with their kidnappers. It's called Stockholm syndrome. I'm thinking of changing my name to Inga.”
"You do not have Stockholm.”
Abby crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her brother. "Oh? Then what would you call it?”
He thought about it for a second. "The hots?”
"Noah—”
He heaved a put-upon sigh. "Abby, what is this really about? What has you so bent out of shape about this? Rule seems to be a great guy. Why are you so freaked out by the idea of having some kind of a relationship with him?”
Darn it, why did her brother have to understand her so well? She squirmed in her seat. "You mean aside from the kidnapping thing and the fact that he's not human?”
"Demon or not, he's an improvement over a couple of the guys you've dated. Like that jerk you were all over in college.”
"Improvem
ent in whose eyes?”
"Anyone with half a brain." He ticked off points on his fingers. "Rule is responsible, intelligent, and capable of kicking the butts that need it. He's also a hell of an interesting guy and according to the whispers of the waitresses in this place, 'sexier than he has a right to be.' So what really has you knotted up like a macramé project gone wrong?”
With a drawn-out groan, Abby let her head fall back against the arm of the sofa and stared up at the plaster-worked ceiling. "You just said it all yourself.”
Noah was silent for a moment, then another one. "Okay, you've lost me. I said what?”
"Oh, for Pete's sake, No, you've seen the guy yourself, haven't you?" She lifted her head so she could glare at him. "He's like a walking female fantasy. He's big and built and gorgeous. I know the female staff around here must be talking about him, because I've seen them drooling over him.”
"And you have a problem with that?”
Abby tried to laugh, but she wasn't really amused, and the sound reflected that. She spread her arms. "Look at me, Noah. He's like a cover model, and I'm like the girl next door's less remarkable younger sister.”
He wrinkled his brow and stared at her in confusion. "What the hell are you talking about? You sound like a blithering idiot. You're—”
"He's out of my league, Noah!”
Her bombshell shut his mouth with a clack. He sat looking at her for so long, she wondered if they'd been caught in some sort of time warp. If she listened hard, she figured she'd hear the crickets chirping.
"I'm sorry," he finally said slowly, "but what did you just say?”
"You heard me.”
"I heard something, but it didn't make a whole lot of sense to me. Care to explain?”
She glowered at him. "You're not stupid, Noah, and you're not blind. Well, neither am I. I have a mirror and eyes and I can see that women who look like me don't attract men who look like Rule.”
"You're sure you're speaking English?”
"Don't be an—”
"No, hold on," Noah interrupted. "You need to stop talking like an idiot. There is nothing wrong with the way you look. You're making yourself sound like some sort of deformed hag.”
"That's not what I'm saying. I know I'm not ugly. I don't have a wart on the end of my nose, or a hump on my back, or snakes for hair.”
"Glad to hear you realize that.”
"But I'm average," she continued, talking over him. "I have average features, average hair, an average body. I blend into the woodwork. Men who look like Rule don't find me attractive.”
Noah pointed off toward her bra lying on the floor near the desk. "I'd like to draw your attention to some evidence to the contrary.”
"Maybe he has Stockholm syndrome, too," Abby muttered. "He was cooped up here with me, and he needed to get laid. I was convenient.”
He shook his head. "Seriously. You need therapy here, Abby. You're a beautiful girl. Not every woman needs to be blond and stacked. And not every guy even likes the ones who are. Some of us like girls who look capable of rubbing a couple of brain cells together.”
"Right, because all my life men have been falling in love with me for my keen intellect.”
"Abby, no offense, 'cause you know I love you, but all your life, your taste in men has pretty well sucked. When you've even bothered to date.”
"Why do you think I do that so rarely? Men aren't exactly lined up at my front door.”
"How would you know? You barely ever open it. This stuff about you being unattractive…these are not rational thoughts.”
She bit off a laugh. "What about this situation is rational?”
"More than is irrational. Look, I know I've had longer to deal with the supernatural thing than you have, and I'm sorry about that, but I think it's time to forget about being freaked out by reality and find a way to deal with it.”
"Trust me, I'm open to suggestions.”
Noah rested his hand on her foot and squeezed through the blanket. "First off, I'd suggest you stop fighting things so hard. It's obvious to everyone but you that Rule is pretty much crazy about you, so I think you can stop thinking it's Stockholm or boredom or a lack of attraction that makes his tongue hang out every time you walk into a room.”
Abby couldn't help the surge of pleased warmth that filled her at hearing that. "Yeah?”
Her brother rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Ab, have you considered therapy for these hang-ups of yours?”
Helplessly, she laughed. "I'll keep that in mind." She poked him with her foot. "You think sex therapy would help?”
"Don't be gross. That's my little sister you're talking about." He pushed her foot away playfully. "I also suggest you stop tying yourself up in knots like this. I like Rule. I think he's a good guy, and I think you're the only person in the known universe who hasn't noticed that in his eyes, you're like Helen of Troy and Venus Aphrodite and Miss Universe all rolled into one.”
Abby remembered the look on Rule's face when he'd first fit himself against her body, remembered the heat and the unexpected tenderness in his gaze, and felt a flicker of hope and possibility spark in her belly. She smiled. "Thanks, No.”
He grinned. "That doesn't mean I ever again want to walk into a room with you two and find you half naked with him, but if you're going to have to get mixed up with anyone, at least you're showing some good judgment. I know Rule will take care of you.”
"I'm not half naked," Abby protested, managing a half-smile of her own. "I'm covered from head to foot.”
"You're not wearing pants, Abigail. That counts as half naked. I don't care if you're covered in pixie dust and moonbeams.”
"Pixie dust and moonbeams? Sounds kinky.”
"Shut up, Ab."
CHAPTER TWENTY
Rule strode directly from Rafe's office to Graham's, and with every step he took, a strange sense of foreboding began to fill him. By the time he stepped into Graham's office and saw who was waiting for him, he felt not even a twinge of surprise.
"Good evening, sir." Rule shut the door behind him and waited to be acknowledged.
The figure on the side of the room was just as large as Noah had judged, a tall, burly-looking man with thick arms, dark copper skin, and improbably bright red hair.
"Rule." The prime minister of the Parliament of Below turned away from the window he'd been gazing out of and fixed his Watchman with a dark stare. "I had expected to hear word of your progress well before this. Where is Louamides?”
Rule's jaw flexed and his spine straightened, but he didn't blink. "He has been located, but I have not been able to find Uzkiel. I am certain he must be somewhere in this city, but so far he has eluded me.”
"Not surprising. Uzkiel and his minions have been eluding the Watch since before you were born, Arulnagal.”
Rule flinched at the use of his real name, but he masked it well. The full names of demons had power; that much of the human folklore was correct. A name could be used as a summoning, or a name could be the component in a curse. Either way, few demons cared to share their names casually. Only three beings knew Rule's full name: Prime Minister Bal; Rule's mentor in the Watch, Kurien; and Rule himself. All others who had known it were dead. It was Bal's way of reminding Rule of his authority.
"I believe I am getting closer, Prime Minister Bal," he said calmly. "I am certain I will have him in just a few more days.”
"If you tell me this, I will not doubt you," the ancient demon said, "but we cannot take any chances in these matters. If you have located Louamides, you will bring him to me so that I can return him to the Below. He will stand trial before the Parliament and be sentenced to a suitable punishment. If you wish, you may remain here and continue to search for Uzkiel.”
Rule felt his jaw clench. "I'm afraid that isn't possible, Prime Minister.”
Bal stared hard at him. "Why should it be impossible, Arulnagal? You have the fiend, and I have the authority. You will turn it over to me.”
"With all due respect, I cann
ot do it, sir." Rule stood his ground and sent up a fervent wish that the gamble he was about to take would pay off. "The fiend is currently trapped inside a human and cannot be exorcised. It cannot be returned Below in its present state.”
Bal waved a hand. "Humans are expendable. One will not be missed.”
"I'm afraid I cannot agree with you.”
The door opened and Rafe strode in from the hallway, looking characteristically elegant and nonchalant. Before the door swung shut behind him, Rule caught a glimpse of Tess standing in the hallway. It looked as if she was shooing her husband into the room.
"I requested a private meeting." Bal scowled. "I have not given leave to any interruptions.”
"Ah, but I have not given leave for your visit," Rafe said, his tone mild, his expression easy, and his meaning clear as glass. "It is considered polite, and in observance of all current treaties, that a visitor from another realm present himself to local authorities before completing his business.”
"I do not intend to stay long. There is little time for formalities.”
"There is always time for formalities. They make life so much more…lasting, don't you think?”
In that moment, neither Rule nor Bal had any doubt that the Felix head of the Council of Others had lethally sharp claws of his own.
Bal gave an abrupt nod. "I will be leaving momentarily. Please convey my regards to the proper authorities.”
"There is no need. I am the authorities." Rafe's smile was charming and sharper than steel. "Rafael De Santos, head of the Council of Others and Felix of the City of New York. At your service, of course.”
Bal nodded again. "I am Bal of Infernium, prime minister of the Parliament of the Below. I merely came to discuss with my Watchman the progress he has made in his current assignment.”
"I informed the prime minister that while Louamides has been located, we have not had such luck in finding Uzkiel," Rule explained.
"Ah, yes. Most unfortunate. But I have every confidence in your abilities, Rule. As, I'm sure, does your prime minister.”
The Others 03: The Demon You Know Page 17
