Chapter 17
Now that Gwen was feeling less like sunbaked garbage, she could better relish the inherent hotness of Hugh’s arrival at his apartment complex earlier that day.
The way he’d broken the speed limit to get to her. His illegal choice of parking spot. The stern, decisive manner in which he’d hauled Haziq and Gwen to the hospital.
The only thing that could have made his arrival hotter?
If he’d been wearing a crop top at the time. Shit, that would’ve been amazing.
“Gwen.” Silence. “Gwen.”
Jolted out of her pleasant reverie, she sat up straight. “What’s going on?”
“Please tell me what happened in the apartment.” He stopped at another light. “I know you gave a report at the scene, but I also know you probably had to redact a few things. Besides, I want to hear the story directly from you.”
“Okay. So.” She angled herself toward him. “I had another vision, but I managed to get back to sleep afterward. When I woke up again, I immediately smelled smoke.”
Explaining everything that came next didn’t take much time. She was just wrapping up the story when her now-rested mind resurfaced a detail she’d almost forgotten. One she hadn’t shared with the common human officer who’d taken her official statement.
“Wait. I just remembered something.” She laid an urgent hand on his forearm.
“When Haziq and I opened the exit door to the stairs and stepped through, it felt like surfacing from underwater for some reason. My ears kind of…popped? And then I could suddenly hear the building alarms. They were incredibly loud. So loud I couldn’t believe how quiet your apartment had been, even with malfunctioning smoke detectors.
It was like we were in a bubble, and then, as soon as we stumbled through the door… ”
“It popped. Like your ears.” Hugh’s knuckles jutted on the steering wheel, white and tense. “I owe you an apology.”
Mystified, she beetled her brows at him. “For what?”
“Not protecting you.” Self-condemnation freighted each word. “Despite all my promises.”
Pursing her lips, she shook her head at him. “No. Don’t be foolish.”
Wait. Had she just called Councilor Hugh Blacke, Esquire, foolish? Her? The two-bit oracle who’d tried to pass off Jurassic freaking Park as a genuine vision?
Yes. Yes, she had. And she wasn’t finished either. “You did protect me. You are protecting me. There was absolutely no reason to believe I wouldn’t be safe in your apartment.”
His glance toward her contained nothing but warmth.
“That’s a kind thing to say.” When he returned his attention to the road, the grim set to his mouth returned. “Also misguided, however. You weren’t safe, Gwen.”
Before she could muster her next set of arguments, he continued.
“As far as the silence within the apartment and that ‘popping’ sensation upon your exit…what you experienced sounds like a witch’s noise-cancellation spell activated within the warded bounds of my home.
It can’t have been placed before my departure early this morning. I would have noticed.”
There was only one reasonable conclusion. “The fire couldn’t have been an accident.”
“No.” His anger manifested as a hot draft in the car, a desert wind contained entirely within a small Toyota hybrid.
“Given the actuarial risk inherent in approving policies for demons, my homeowner’s insurance required the installation of an extremely thorough heat-responsive sprinkler system and mandates a monthly test of the numerous alarms within my apartment.
The smoke detectors and my sprinkler system were perfectly functional. They should have activated.”
“Someone got inside your wards.” The best money could buy, presumably. “Then set a noise-cancellation spell and tampered with your alarms. How?”
“I don’t know.” The car slowed as they neared a waterfront park. “I had the wards set in place the day I purchased the apartment, and I’ve had no issues with security in the meantime.”
“Do they prevent teleportation too?” If not, that would be a huge oversight for a demon, so she’d guess his answer was—
“Yes.” With a twist of his wrist, he neatly maneuvered the car into a roadside parking spot near the park.
“I’d originally intended to head directly to my apartment building and gather any of your salvageable belongings that can be removed from the site.
But let’s stop here for a minute first so we can talk in private. Unless you’re still feeling unwell?”
His reference to his own home as the site confused her until she considered what was probably happening there right now. An investigation into the fire’s causes. A search for evidence, which would surely encompass all the items she’d brought into the apartment.
“I’m fine,” she repeated for what felt like the thousandth time. “What do you want to talk about?”
He shut off the engine, then twisted in his seat until he was angled toward her and took her hand. “I’d like to hear about the vision you were having before you woke up. Just in case what you saw points us in a particular direction or away from a particular direction.”
She obliged—and by the time she finished describing how the fae male had looked back at her and what he’d said, worry had carved deep lines across Hugh’s pale forehead.
“In one sense, your greater proximity to the conspirators in your vision was a boon.” He spoke slowly.
“Identifying the two males would certainly open new avenues in our investigation. We’ll look at photos of possible fae conspirators later today.
Also human generals who might fit the description of the man you saw. ”
There was clearly a but coming—and she knew what concern they both shared.
“I’d be happy to do that.” After a fraught pause, she forced herself to say it.
“Hugh, my interaction with the fae in my vision disturbs me. I’d like to think that my oracular power was simply warning me about the fire, using him to symbolize the urgent threat to my welfare.
Since oracles don’t prophesize about their own futures, though, that seems unlikely. ”
A fresh waft of heat drifted through the car, and his hand tightened on hers. “I agree.”
“So maybe…” Gods, even after that IV of fluids, she could barely swallow over her dry throat. “Maybe he really saw me, then. But I don’t know how that’s even possible.”
“Neither do I.” He dragged his free hand through his hair, rumpling its careful order. “The most powerful fae tend to keep their secrets well hidden, however. And one of those secrets could be their ability to somehow connect to oracles in their visions.”
“In fairness, most Supernaturals and Enhanced humans prefer to hide certain talents and vulnerabilities too. Given our, uh”—blood-soaked—“fraught interspecies histories, we’re not the most trusting souls.”
“You’re correct, obviously.” More agitated than she’d ever seen him, he was now emitting enough heat to rival Atlanta in July. “But only the fae were fucking talking to you in your vision. Shit, Gwen.”
“If they can connect to seers during our prophecies…” She swallowed again. “Could they pinpoint our locations using that connection? Would that help to explain what happened to those missing oracles?”
He nodded, mouth set in a grim line.
“And if he truly saw me today…” Her anxious mind replayed the instant when he’d smiled at her with such horrifying glee, and her exhalation shook. “I imagine his willingness to show me his face so close-up isn’t a good sign.”
Hugh’s agreement was curt. “No. It’s not.”
That willingness implied she wouldn’t live long enough to identify him to authorities. Or—best-case scenario—that he knew enough about her tattered reputation to assume no one would take her word if she attempted to report him as a culprit in an apocalyptic conspiracy.
“Whatever you were thinking just now…” Hugh leaned forward. Brushed a gentle fingertip over the drooping corner of her mouth. “It made you sad as well as afraid.”
Her face must express her emotions more clearly than she’d realized. “Even if I testified in front of a truthseeker about what I’ve been seeing, no one would believe me.”
“Your friends believe you, Gwen.” His expression softened, and he smoothed a straggling bit of hair away from her temple. “And so do I.”
Her eyes stung with tired tears. “I don’t understand why you do.”
He didn’t answer for a long time. Simply watched his palm smooth down the coppery length of her disheveled braid, his fingertips lingering to pluck at the ribbon securing its end.
“You’re an honorable person,” he said finally, and it didn’t sound like a lie, but…there was still something guarded about the statement. “Even twenty years ago, I could tell you didn’t mean any harm. You lied out of love and desperation, and you hated every moment of it.”
He was right, of course, but—“How did you know that?”
His cell phone, resting face up on the storage recess below the dashboard, buzzed loudly into the silence. Once, then again.
With a glance downward, he checked the name on his screen. Then he blew out a breath, dropped his hand from her hair, and reached for the phone.
“Sorry. I need to take this. Josiah promised to update me about the investigation into the fire.” His forefinger paused above the green circle.
“I’ll put the call on speaker so you can hear what’s going on.
Officially, though, you shouldn’t be part of this conversation, so please don’t say anything.
Also, if the conversation moves on to subjects that don’t involve you or your safety, I’ll take the phone off speaker. Okay?”
She nodded, pleased by the gesture of trust, and he answered the call.
“Josiah.” His voice was professional but warm. “Thank you for calling. What’s happening?”
“I just received the preliminary report.” Goodling’s own voice sounded hushed, as if he were trying not to be overheard. “It’s…not promising, son.”
Hugh didn’t visibly react. “ ‘Not promising’ in what sense?”
The elder councilor hesitated. “The investigators concluded that the fire originated inside your apartment, which we already knew. The smoke alarms had all been deliberately disabled, along with the sprinkler system. A witch’s spell had rendered the building’s own alarms inaudible within the apartment.
” Another pause. “The investigation indicated a demon perpetrator. They discovered no signs of outside intrusion.”
Gwen’s lips parted in shock. If she was interpreting his words correctly…
“They think I set the fire,” Hugh stated flatly, “and left Gwen there to die.”
She plastered both hands over her mouth, stifling a horrified gasp.
Goodling didn’t contradict Hugh’s conclusion. “They’re speculating as to whether you’ve become unstable, and your public display of fisticuffs with a troll yesterday isn’t helping matters. There’s been talk about whether the Blacke clan might have…well, a family affliction.”
Hugh’s jaw had turned to stone. “Because of Eloise.”
The cheerful twin sister who’d chatted happily with Gwen in that Delphi waiting room and given Hugh his Prince outfit? What did she have to do with any of this?
The older male gave a genteel grunt of affirmation. “And, Hugh, the reason they think you might have become unstable…it’s unfortunate. Your girlfriend…”
Hugh’s finger hovered over the speaker icon. Evidently he didn’t want her to suffer through any slights Goodling might unknowingly utter in her hearing, and Gwen was glad for that. The distaste and displeasure in the older demon’s voice were insult enough, honestly.
“Josiah—” Hugh began.
Goodling spoke right over him. “They think her pregnancy tipped you over some emotional edge.”
Absolute, suffocating silence descended on the car, and Gwen froze in utter shock.
How had they accessed her medical records? Wasn’t that illegal?
And what in the world would Hugh think of her now?