Page 14 of Infernal

At least, I hoped he would.

5. A TOUCH OF EVIL

The lunch crowd at All Saints was thick with all the usual suspects, all of them happily stuffing their faces as though the end of days weren’t upon us. It had been a while since I’d been back here, and in a weird way, it almost felt like coming home. After everything that had gone down with Engel, I hadn’t exactly been in the right frame of mind to nonchalantly serve chicken wings as though I wasn’t the one destined to bring on the Apocalypse.

Dominic followed closely behind as I weaved my way through the happy patrons to the employees-only area at the back of the building. Gabriel decided to stay behind and continue his research, which was perfectly fine by me. I only needed one licensed Huntington brother anyway.

So, what’s the plan, love? asked Dominic to my mind. His voice slid through my brain like silk.

“I don’t have one,” I said evenly. Even though the place was vibrating with music and chatter, I knew he could hear me through the noise. Revenants could hear a mouse squeak from five blocks away, but Dominic and I were bloodbonded, and that made our connection even tighter. He was tuned into me on a frequency that no one else could hear.

He hooked his arm around my waist and drew me back into his chest. I tried to ignore the way my body easily leaned into his, as though it wanted to take refuge there.

“Don’t you think you ought to come up with one before going in there?” he whispered close to my ear, his hand splayed against my stomach.

“I don’t need a plan,” I said, ignoring the swelling heat in my belly. “I’m just going to tell him the truth.”

I mean, what the hell else could I do?

“Is that right? And when has that ever worked out for you in the past?” he asked.

Heck, it was a perfectly valid question.

“Never,” I answered honestly. “But what choice do I have?” I turned slowly, my lips nearly grazing his own as I faced him. “If I have to lie to him to get him to help me save his son, then I don’t need his kind of help anyway.” Ignoring the goosebumps prickling over my skin, I pushed his arm down and continued walking.

He didn’t bother to object again.

With my hand on the doorknob, I pulled in a deep breath and barged in through the office door.

Peter Macarthur was sitting at his desk, talking to someone on the phone. His mouth drifted open as he caught sight of me. “I’m going to have to call you back,” he muttered into the receiver before hanging it up.

“Jemma, darling. Didn’t expect to see you here.” His lips spread out into a toothy grin. “What a nice surprise.”

“I’m sorry to burst in like this, Mr. Macarthur, but we need to talk.”

“Hm, sounds serious.” He eyed Dominic, who stood silent-but-deadly at the back of the room, and then returned his focus to me. “Forgive my manners. Please have a seat,” he offered, extending his hand to the chair in front of his desk.

I sat down and tucked my hair behind my ears, buying myself an extra second or two before I had to explain to him what had happened to his only son. Unfortunately, I could buy myself an entire century worth of time, and I’d still never be ready enough to have this conversation. “It’s about Trace,” I finally managed to say.

“Trace?” His forehead lined with curiosity before his gaze shifted over my shoulder. “Well, speak of the devil.”

Speak of the—what now?

“What about me?” said a deep baritone voice from somewhere behind me.

My back straightened into a rod as chills zipped down my arms. I knew that voice—I’d know that voice anywhere. I gripped the armrest on my chair andslowlyturned around, almost too afraid to look.

But I did look. And then my jaw dropped.

“Tr-Trace?” I could barely get his name off the roof of my mouth.

He smiled down at me, setting off both of his dimples in tandem as the light in the room lit up his gleaming blue eyes. He looked healthy and beautiful and completely alive.

And I couldn’t do anything but stare at him like a deer caught in headlights.

His brows furrowed. “What’s wrong, Jemma? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

A ghost? Try the devil. Or was it? I honestly couldn’t tell just by looking at him. Not that it mattered. I knew better than anyone that looks could be deceiving.

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