Chapter Nine—Trusting #4
She appeared not to hear him as she stared at Lucas. Her hand was shaky as she held out the coffee cup. “Let’s sit down.”
Lucas remained standing. He wanted nothing more than to feel the satisfying jolt of his fist making contact with the warlock’s handsome face and wiping that smirk off it.
Bel’s Fires! While he had been sitting in a car all night with his legs cramped, the man had probably been buried deep inside Sara, holding her warm flesh next to him.
He balled his fists as the wolf growled menacingly and then forced himself to stay in control.
The bottom line was that Sara had made her choice and it hadn’t been him.
“I don’t think I’ll be staying for coffee,” he said and walked away.
It took every ounce of his tremendous will power not to slam the door hard enough to shake if off its hinges.
****
For the thousandth time, Sara stole a glance at Lucas from beneath her lashes. They were in the library, with him working on the computer while she wrote notes searching for more clues of the Spear in the verses.
He hadn’t shown up until after lunch and, when he did, he had been coldly polite. Even now his sensual mouth was set in a grim, determined line as he Googled more research.
Sara put her notepad down. She had been doing nothing but doodles on it for the past hour. “We need to talk.”
“Nothing to talk about,” Lucas said and kept working.
She took a deep breath and forced her rising temper under control. “What you saw…what happened—”
He looked up, his eyes burning gold. “I really don’t want to hear about what you do with overnight male guests.” He turned back to the screen as Mr. Smith walked in.
“You have a phone call, Sara.”
She gave Lucas one more look, but he ignored her. Fine, then. She went into the adjacent room and picked up the phone. “Hello?”
“It’s me,” Michael said.
Right now, he was the last person she wanted to hear from. He hadn’t been any help at all this morning. The least he could have done is explain that he’d slept on the couch instead of letting Lucas draw his own conclusions. But no, he had to enjoy his own little ego thing. Men.
“Just wanted to tell you that Morgan called,” he said, obviously not at all concerned that she hadn’t answered him. “She says she needs to see me.”
“No doubt,” Sara said sarcastically. “Why don’t you spend the night at her place? I’m sure she won’t mind.”
“Ouch,” he said mildly. “You still mad?”
“Why should I be mad?” Sara asked. “Lucas refuses to talk to me and we do have a project that we’re supposed to be working on.”
“Okay, I get the picture,” Michael answered. “Here’s your chance to make it up to the guy. I can’t be at your place until I find out what Morgan wants—”
“You know what she wants,” Sara interrupted. “Have fun.”
“Come on, sweetheart, don’t be like that. Just ask Ramsey to take you home and be sure the apartment is secured. I don’t much like the guy, but you obviously do.”
“Don’t start,” Sara said. It irritated her that her feelings were so open. Dear Goddess, did Lucas know how attracted she was to him? Was that why he was acting like he was? A little male-dominant control?
“What I meant,” Michael said in a voice of an adult reasoning with a stubborn child, “was that his honor will win out over his pride. He’ll escort you home. You’re on your own from there. If I see his car, I won’t stop.”
“I’ll think about it,” Sara said and hung up.
There was no way she was going to beg Lucas Ramsey to help her. If he couldn’t be mature enough to at least listen to her explanation, then she could ignore him too.
****
An hour later, when Sara pulled up to her apartment, a wave of uneasiness washed over her. She didn’t want to admit it, but it had been comforting to find Michael waiting last night.
She looked around the parking lot. One of her neighbors was leaving and waved. She didn’t see anyone else. No one sitting in a car, either. A new Yukon SUV was parked several doors down in front of the apartment that had been empty. Maybe new people had moved in.
A sense of wariness came over her as she put the key in the lock. She pushed the apprehension aside. It was silly to be afraid to come home to a solidly locked apartment while it was still light outside. She turned the key, opened the door, and stepped inside.
She saw a fragile glimmer of light pulsating near the ficus by the window.
Nim! Usually the faerie greeted her at the door with an impish grin.
She hurried over to where the transparent figure clung to the bark of the tree.
Her wings drooped and her essence seemed to be fading in and out.
For her to have spent so much energy meant either some psychic force had drained her or that she had exhausted herself with the small fanged scorpion bites she could give.
“Nim, what happened?”
But before the faerie could complete a weak “Danger!” a burly arm wrapped around Sara’s throat, nearly choking her.
The last thing she saw, as a foul-smelling cloth was pressed over her nose, was the faerie attempting one last scorpion bite, to no avail.