Chapter Nine
“I MADE YOU TEA.” THEY were not the first words that I had expected Paul to speak, but I was relieved all the same. It was so much better than ‘I told you so’, which I knew I deserved.
Less than an hour had passed since Paul had driven me back home. I was now ensconced in my own couch, a thick blanket around my shoulders, and feeling warm and cozy after my hot shower.
I watched him pour tea into two porcelain cups, every inch the consummate gentleman.
He had changed into another suit after his shower, making me wonder just how many of those dark-colored ensembles he had stored in his car.
As he turned towards me, I saw the way the slightly wet locks of his hair shone like golden rays under the fluorescent lighting.
It was a dazzling sight, and my senses quivered.
Mr. Handsome. Home. Shower.
It was much too intimate a thought, and I hastily shoved it aside as Paul handed me a steaming cup of chamomile tea.
“T-Thanks.” I tried to lift the cup to my lips, but it was impossible.
My hands had suddenly started shaking, and I stared at them in consternation.
I thought I was okay. I should be okay, so why –
I heard Paul sigh, and I stiffened when I saw him rise to his feet. “It’s fine,” I said immediately. “I can—-”
But Paul only ignored my protest as he scooped me off the couch and took my place – just before depositing me on his lap.
“P-Paul!” I had never sat on a man’s lap. Never. And that the first time would actually happen with Mr. Handsome, of all people –
“You’re still in shock,” he said gently.
No kidding, I thought dizzily, and my nerves were stretched taut at the feel of Paul’s hard warmth against my trembling limbs. This time, I couldn’t even try to protest as Paul lifted the cup to my lips. I started to take a sip, but then I saw the steam rising past the rim, and I hesitated.
“Blair?” In the corner of my eye, I saw his lips curve as I blew on my tea several times before letting myself take a tiny sip. It was the right kind of hot, and I sighed in relief as I took a longer sip.
When I lifted my head, the first thing I saw was the gleam in his hazel eyes, and my face heated up. “What?” I couldn’t help sounding defensive.
He placed the cup back on the table with a shake of his head. “It’s disconcerting,” he admitted wryly, “the way you can appear like an innocent child one moment and a fully-blossomed woman the next.”
My cheeks turned a deeper shade of red at his words.
“You’re reading it the wrong way,” I muttered even as I let Paul pull me back against him, my head against his chest. I knew I should be doing the opposite, but I was tired of going against what I truly wanted.
Just this once, I would do what my heart craved – and that was to be in Paul’s arms.
“Are you saying you never act like a child?” Paul asked teasingly.
“I’m saying I’m human,” I grumbled. “You hold live thunderbolts in your hands, for Cronos’ sake. I won’t be surprised if I see you playing with them next time like a majorette twirling her batons—-”
“That’s a horrible analogy,” Paul interrupted with a slight wince.
I suddenly had a vision of him wearing a majorette’s costume, gold-tasseled shoulder padding and all, and I choked back a laugh.
Paul scowled down at me. “Get that image out of your mind, Blair.”
“But—-”
“But nothing,” he said firmly. “Or I’ll give you something else to think about.”
A strong arm went around my waist, and I gulped.
Not good.
“You win,” I said hastily. “I’m already thinking of something else.”
Paul shook his head in mock disappointment. “You give in too easily, agapoula mou.”
“It’s called self-preservation.”
“I see.” His voice was pleasant, too pleasant, and unease stirred inside of me.
“Paul—-” My voice broke off as I felt his arm tighten around my waist again.
“A pity you didn’t have the same concern when you left your house despite my warnings.”
“I knew you’d get around to that sooner or later.” I kept my voice light and teasing, hoping to defuse the sudden tension in the room, but Paul’s handsome face remained unsmiling.
“You almost died out there, Blair.” His voice was taut, and the way he was suddenly looking at me made my throat tighten. “If I hadn’t found you in time—-”
“But you did,” I whispered.
“But what if I didn’t?” he gritted out. “You can’t take such chances—-”
The look on his face was unbearable. It thrilled and confused me, and I could only shake my head, asking tremulously, “Why do you worry so much about me? You’ve only known me for days.”
“It’s been more than days, Blair,” he said quietly. “You and I both know you’ve been watching me a lot longer than that.”
Oh.
“And it was the same for me. I couldn’t stop watching you from the first day I saw you in Panda’s—-”
My fingers curled involuntarily against his chest, and Paul inhaled sharply.
“W-What exactly are you saying?”
“I don’t want to see you hurt,” he said flatly. “Isn’t that obvious enough?”
“You know that’s not what I’m asking.” I swallowed hard. “Why do you worry so much over me?”
“Does there have to be a reason?” His gaze became veiled. “Isn’t it enough that I just do?”
Was it? Should it be enough? All this was so new to me.
Paul tipped my chin up. “I know I can’t stop you from doing your job, but can we at least agree to some ground rules?”
I bit my lip, feeling torn between the desire to alleviate his worries and the need to assert my independence. “I’m not a kid, Paul—-”
“Then act like it,” he retorted. “I told you tonight would be a war zone, didn’t I?”
He had me there.
“I had no idea Zeus’ thunderbolts could do anything like that,” I confessed reluctantly. Even now, just remembering how close I was to having a thunderbolt stab me to death had me swallowing hard. I was definitely not taking my chances next time.
“Zeus has different kinds of thunderbolts in his arsenal,” Paul explained curtly. “The one you saw was the deadliest – it’s programmable, and a hundred percent accurate once it’s locked onto its target.”
“And you think Zeus programmed it to target witches?”
“We can’t say for sure, but most of us think it’s worse than that.”
I paled. “Are you saying it’s programmed to target humans, too?”
“I’m saying it’s programmed to target anything that lives and breathes—-” Paul’s tone was hard. “That’s why no place is safe for anyone of us, and that’s why I want us to work on those ground rules.”
One, two, three seconds passed.
More time lapsed, but I just couldn’t think of a way to get past those ground rules without making myself seem as dreadfully unreasonable as a kid.
“Fine,” I grumbled. “You win. Ground rules it is, but I swear, if you even think of mentioning detention—-”
Mr. Oh-So-Mature leaned back against his seat, drawling, “Now that you’ve mentioned it...”
I glared at him.
Paul threw his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “A joke, just a joke, Agent Vavrin.”
“Just so we’re clear,” I stressed, still suspicious.
“We are.” He tugged a lock of my hair, and his lips curved when I refused to relax even as the gesture had my spine tingling. “I meant what I said, Blair. I’m not going to interfere with your work.” He paused. “But I don’t want to see you risking life and limb for it either.”
“But if the situation calls for it—-”
“Let me rephrase that: I don’t want you taking unnecessary risks, and so here’s one simple ground rule. Just let me know where you are or where you’re heading at all times.”
I waited.
And waited.
And when I realized that was all he was going to ask –
“That’s it?” I asked dubiously.
He spread his hands out by way of waving the white flag. “That’s it.”
My gaze narrowed. “This isn’t some kind of trick, is it?”
“If you want more ground rules,” Paul drawled, “all you have to do is ask.”
Oops. I shook my head, saying quickly, “Err, no, actually, that one ground rule is perfect.”
He smirked. “I thought you’d say that.” He glanced at my teacup. “Do you want another?”
“I’m okay—-” My gaze drifted absently to my watch. Nine-thirty. I hadn’t had dinner yet and – oh.
“I forgot to tell you about what I discovered at The Voice Factor,” I gasped, and Paul listened attentively as I told him what I learned.
“That’s good work.” Paul’s voice had turned vague, and I could see that his mind was already on what next steps to take. “We’ll need tech support...”
I grabbed my phone. “On it.”
“Tell them this is Code P.”
I hesitated. “You’re sure?” P stood for Pandora, and Code P meant the situation had hit rock bottom, the equivalent of Pandora’s box unleashing an unholy horror on mankind.
Among other things, it granted tech support permission to hack even into government-owned systems, something we tried our best to avoid because it risked exposure for non-humans if we were caught.
“We have no choice. I received word earlier from Olympus. The only reason we have a lull in the storm right now is because Hermes was able to use one of Hypnos’ sleeping spells to knock the thunder god out.”
“Doesn’t he have to be physically close to Zeus to make that kind of spell work?”
Paul nodded curtly. “He didn’t need to get inside the battle tower, but he did have to get close enough that it cost him a torn wing.”
“Poor Hermes.” The fleet-footed god may be an Olympian himself, but none of those things saved him from feeling pain the way we all did.
“He’ll live,” Paul said gruffly.
I supposed he would, and that even with his injured wing, Hermes still had better chances of surviving the coming storm. “How long do you think the spell would last?”
“How soon before Zeus wakes up?”
“No one really knows, but when he wakes up—-” Paul’s voice turned harsh. “He’ll be fit to destroy the world.”