It was sunset when we pulled up to Adrian's apartment, and I belatedly wondered if I should've given him some advance warning. Too late now.
We walked up to the door, and I knocked three times. "It's open," a voice called from within. I stepped inside, and Marcus followed.
Adrian was working on an abstract painting of what looked like a crystalline building from some fantasy world. "Unexpected treat," he said. His eyes fell on Marcus and widened. "I'll be damned. You found him."
"Thanks to you," I said.
Adrian glanced over at me. A smile started to form - and then instantly dried up. "What happened to your face?"
"Oh." I lightly touched the swollen spot. It still smarted but wasn't as painful as it had been earlier. I spoke my next words without thinking. "Marcus hit me."
I'd never seen Adrian move so fast. Marcus had no chance to react, probably because he was exhausted from our earlier encounter. Adrian shoved Marcus up against a wall and - to my complete and utter astonishment - punched Marcus. Adrian had once joked that he never dirtied his hands, so this was something I never could have prepared myself for. In fact, if Adrian was going to attack someone, I would've expected something magical and spirit-driven. Yet . . . as I watched him, I could see that anything as thoughtful as magic was far from Adrian's mind. He had kicked into primal mode. See a threat. Go after it. It was yet another surprising - yet fascinating - side of the enigma that was Adrian Ivashkov.
Marcus quickly got his bearings and responded in kind. He pushed Adrian back, wincing a little. Even with his injury he was still strong. "What the hell? Who are you?"
"The guy that's going to kick your ass for hurting her," said Adrian.
He tried another punch, but Marcus dodged and managed to land a hit that knocked Adrian back into one of his easels. When Marcus swung again, Adrian eluded him with a maneuver that was straight out of Wolfe's class. I would've applauded him if I wasn't so appalled by the situation. I knew some girls thought it was sexy to have men fight over them. Not me.
"You guys, stop!" I cried.
"No one's going to throw you around and get away with it," said Adrian.
"What happened with us has nothing to do with you," retorted Marcus.
"Everything about her has to do with me."
The two circled around each other, waiting for the other to pounce. "Adrian," I exclaimed. "It was an accident."
"Doesn't look like an accident," he replied, never taking his eyes off Marcus.
"You should listen to her," growled Marcus. The easygoing guy I'd met earlier was gone, but I guess being attacked would do that to you. "It might save you from getting your pretty face wrecked. How much styling did you have to do to get your hair like that?"
"At least I brush my hair," said Adrian.
Marcus lunged forward - but not directly at Adrian. He grabbed a painting off an easel and used it as a weapon. Adrian again managed a dodge, but the painting didn't fare so well. The canvas tore, and Marcus tossed it aside, ready for the next advance.
Adrian spared the canvas a brief glance. "Now you've really pissed me off."
"Enough!" Something told me they weren't going to listen to reason. This required direct intervention. I stalked across the room and pushed myself between them.
"Sydney, get out of the way," ordered Adrian.
"Yeah," agreed Marcus. "For once he's got something worthwhile to say."
"No!" I held out my hands to separate them. "Both of you back off - now!" My voice rang through the apartment, and I refused to budge. "Back. Off," I repeated.
"Sydney. . . ." Adrian's voice was a little more uncertain than when he'd told me to get out of the way.
I looked back and forth between them, giving each guy a healthy glare. "Adrian, it really was an accident. Marcus, this is the guy who's going to help you, so show some respect."
This, more than anything, seemed to derail them.
"Wait," said Adrian. "Did you say 'help'?"
Marcus was equally flabbergasted. "This ass**le is the spirit user?"
"You're both acting like idiots," I scolded. The next time I had nothing to do, I'd have to get a book on testosterone-driven behavior. This was out of my league. "Adrian, can we talk somewhere in private? Like the bedroom?"
Adrian agreed, but not before giving Marcus one last menacing look. I told Marcus to stay where he was and hoped he wouldn't take off or call in someone else with a gun. Adrian followed me to his bedroom and shut the door behind us.
"You know," he said, "under normal circumstances, you inviting me to the bedroom would be the highlight of my day."
I crossed my arms and sat on the bed. I did so out of simple fatigue, but a moment later, I was struck by what I was doing. This is where Adrian sleeps. I'm touching the covers he's wrapped in every night. What does he wear? Does he wear anything?
I jumped up.
"It really was an accident," I told him. "Marcus thought I was there to abduct him."
Adrian, having no such hang-ups with the bed, sat down. He winced, probably from the blow to the stomach. "If someone like you showed up to abduct me, I'd let you."
Even when he was in pain, it never stopped with him. "I'm serious. It was just instinct, and he apologized over and over in the car once he realized who I was."
That got his attention. "He knew you?"
I gave him a recap of my day in Santa Barbara. He listened avidly, nodding along, his expression shifting back and forth between intrigue and surprise.
"I didn't realize when I brought him back here that you'd inflict more damage," I said, once I'd finished the story.
"I was defending your honor." Adrian gave me that devil-may-care smile that always managed to both infuriate and captivate me. "Pretty manly, huh?"
"Very," I said dryly. I didn't like violence, but him doing something so out of character for me actually was kind of incredible. Not that I'd ever tell him that. "You did Wolfe proud. Do you think you can manage not to have any more 'manly' displays while he's here? Please?"
Adrian shook his head, still smiling. "I've said over and over, I'd do anything for you. I just keep hoping it'll be something like, 'Adrian, let's go hot tubbing' or Adrian, take me out for fondue.'"
"Well, sometimes we have to - did you say fondue?" Sometimes it was impossible to follow Adrian's train of thought. "Why in the world would I ever say that?"
He shrugged. "I like fondue."
I didn't even know what to say about that. This whole day was getting more and more exhausting. "I'm sorry I'm not asking for something as glamorous as melted cheese. But for now, I need to find out about Marcus and his group - and the tattoo."
Adrian recognized the situation's severity. He stood up and gently touched the lily on my cheek. "I don't trust him. He could be using you. But then . . . I don't like the idea of this controlling you either."
"That makes two of us," I admitted, losing some of my earlier toughness.
He traced the line of my cheek for a few breathless moments and then dropped his hand. "It might be worth helping him to get some answers."
"Will you promise not to get in any more fights? Please?"
"I promise," he said. "So long as he doesn't start one."
"I'll have him promise too." I just hoped their "manly" natures wouldn't get the better of them. As I ruminated on this, something I'd nearly forgotten about tumbled to the forefront of my mind. "Oh . . . Adrian, I've got one more favor to ask you. A big one."
"Fondue?" he asked hopefully.
"No. It's about Ms. Terwilliger's sister. . . ."
I told him what I'd learned. The amusement in his face faded and turned to disbelief. "You just mention this now?" he exclaimed when I finished. "That some soul-sucking witch might be after you?"
"She doesn't know I exist." I felt surprisingly defensive. "And I'm the only one who can help, at least according to Ms. Terwilliger. She thinks I'm some super-investigator."
"Well, you do have that Sherlock Holmes thing going for you," he said. His joking didn't last; he was too upset. "But you still should've told me! You could've called."
"I was kind of busy with Marcus."
"Then your priorities are off. This is a lot more important than his band of Merry Men. If we need to take out some evil sorceress before she gets to you, then of course I'll help." He hesitated. "With one condition."
I eyed him warily. "What's that?"
"Let me heal you too."
I jerked backward, almost more shocked than if he'd suggested hitting me again. "No! Absolutely not! I don't need it. I'm in better shape than him."
"You want to go back to Amberwood with that on your face? You're not going to be able to hide that, Sage. And if Castile sees it, he really will come after Marcus." Adrian crossed his arms defiantly. "That's my price."
He was bluffing, and I knew it. Maybe it was egotistical, but I knew he wasn't going to let me go into a dangerous situation without him. He did, however, have a point. I still hadn't seen the mark Marcus had left, but I didn't want to explain it back at school. And yes, there was a good chance Eddie would want to hunt down my assailant. Being beat up by an avenging dhampir might make working with Marcus difficult.
Yet . . . how could I agree? At least the magic I used was on my terms. And although my tattoo had trace amounts of vampire magic, I took comfort in knowing it was tied to the "normal" four elements, the ones we understood. Spirit was still an unknown entity, with abilities that continually surprised us. How could I subject myself to rogue vampire magic?
Guessing my inner turmoil, Adrian's face softened. "I do this all the time. It's an easy spell. No surprises."
"Maybe," I said reluctantly. "But each time you use spirit, you're more likely to go crazy."
"Already crazy about you, Sage."
At least this was familiar territory. "You said you wouldn't bring that up."
He simply regarded me without comment. Finally, I threw my arms up. "Fine," I said, with more boldness than I felt. "Just get it over with."
Adrian didn't waste any time. Stepping forward, he reached out and rested his hand on my cheek once more. My breath caught and my heart rate went up. It would be so, so easy for him to pull me to him and kiss me again. A tingling warmth spread over my skin, and for a moment, I thought it was just my normal reaction to him. No, I realized. It was the magic. His eyes locked onto mine, and for the space of a heartbeat, we were suspended in time. Then he removed his hand and stepped away.
"Done," he said. "Was that so bad?"
No, it hadn't been bad at all. The throbbing pain was gone. All that was left was the constant inner voice nagging me that what had just happened was wrong. That same voice tried to tell me that Adrian had left a taint behind . . . but that was hard to believe from him. I released the breath I'd been holding.
"Thank you," I said. "You didn't have to do that."
He gave me one of those small smiles. "Oh, believe me, I did."
A moment of awkward silence hung between us. I cleared my throat. "Well. We should get back out to Marcus. Maybe we'll have time for dinner before Sabrina shows up, and you guys can patch things over."
"I doubt even a moonlight stroll would fix things between us."
His words reminded me of something else I'd meant to bring up when he got back to town, something that had taken a very low priority. "Your coat - you never took it back after the wedding. It's in my car."
He waved dismissively "Keep it. I've got others."
"What am I going to do with a wool coat?" I asked. "Especially here in Palm Springs?"
"Sleep with it," he suggested. "Think of me."
I put my hands on my h*ps and tried to stare him down, which wasn't easy since he was so tall. That, and because his words suddenly returned me to the disorienting feeling I'd had sitting on his bed. "You said you weren't going to bring up any romantic stuff around me."
"Was that romantic?" he asked. "I was just making the suggestion, since the coat's so heavy and warm. I figured you'd think of me since it was such a nice gesture. And yet, once again, you're the one who finds romantic subtext in everything I say."
"I do not. You know that's not what I meant."
He shook his head in mock sympathy. "I tell you, Sage. Sometimes I think I'm the one who needs to take out the restraining order on you."
"Adrian!"
But he was already out the door, knowing laughter echoing behind him.
Chapter Eight
I THINK ADRIAN WOULD'VE gone hunting Ms. Terwilliger's sister with me then and there. Amberwood's curfew wouldn't allow it, and besides, it was something I wanted to do in daylight. To his credit, he did heal Marcus without them getting into a fistfight, so that was progress. Marcus lost a little of his animosity and tried to engage Adrian in conversation about what spirit could do. Adrian gave wary responses and looked relieved when Sabrina showed up to take Marcus away. He gave me a mysterious farewell, simply saying he'd text me soon about the "next stage."
I was too tired to ask for more details and headed back to my dorm to sleep off what had been a pretty crazy day. I was awakened at the crack of dawn by heavy pounding at my door. I squinted at the clock, grimacing when I saw that it was an hour earlier than I usually got up. I stayed in bed, hoping whoever it was would go away. If there was something really urgent happening, someone would've called me on my cell phone. The display showed no missed calls, however.