My thoughts happened in flashes, and I quickly reminded myself that I seriously needed my hand back from this creep.
I planted my feet, shored up my shoulders, and yanked my hand. At the exact same moment, Dimitri let go. The result was I slammed hard into Max’s chest.
Max certainly didn’t push me back. In fact, he kept his hand on my shoulder, shifting it down until it pressed further over my arm, the tips of his fingers tantalizingly close to my chest. It was almost as if he were pinning me to his torso like an embrace from behind.
On any other day, that would have exhilarated me. Now, I had to stop myself from turning around, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, and begging him to get me out of here.
“Well,” Dimitri shifted back and leaned against the bar, “I’ll be seeing you around.” As he said that, he looked directly at me. Then he turned, shoved a hand into his pocket, and pulled out a loop of keys. They couldn’t have been for his car and house – not unless he had 100 cars and 100 houses. The key ring was megalithic. It jangled like an orchestra.
I felt Max stiffen as Dimitri selected one of the keys. Now I paused to stare, I realized they all looked the same. Ornate, carved brass keys with blue and red baubles set on the top.
They were familiar, and my gut kicked with unpleasant recognition. I’d seen a key like that before. And it had belonged to a truly odious man. Farley. He’d used one of those keys on the back door in Fagan’s bar to transport me away.
“That’s a hell of a lot of transport keys,” Max commented, voice dark, even though it was clear he was trying to use all his control to keep his tone even.
Dimitri grinned, the smile spreading all the way across his broad, handsome face. “Sure is. They’re perfect for when you need to get somewhere in a hurry. Anywhere, in fact. These are better than having your own private jet plane.” He jangled them, selected one, leaned forward, finished off his drink, and wiped his mouth in a smooth move. “Anyway, I’ll see you around.” He shifted past, so close that his arm brushed up against mine. Though the interaction was brief, it was long enough for me to feel just how defined his strong muscles were. He had a physique like Max’s, except Dimitri had an even broader chest and was an inch or two taller. His arm brushing up against mine felt like I was trying to shoulder a bull.
Dimitri walked away, hands in his pockets, his keys jingling.
He reached one of the doors at the back of the bar, plucked one of the keys up, shoved it in the lock, and opened the door.
I craned my neck to the side to catch a glance of where he was transporting to. I saw a flash of a long dark corridor with chairs stacked by the walls.
A business of some sort?
The door closed quickly, and I could see no more.
… Which just left me pinned against Max’s chest. Now the creepy Dimitri had retreated, I was free to appreciate just how nice it felt to be as close to Max as his T-shirt.
It didn’t last. He shoved me forward. Then he leaned in, drawing his face close to my ear. “That was stupid. You shouldn’t have said a word.”
Instantly, my natural indignation flared. “That wasn’t my fault,” I spat back. “I couldn’t break his grip! He was holding onto my hand like a vice.”
Max paused, and though I could only see a slice of his face out of the corner of my eye, it was enough to appreciate that he softened. “I’m not talking about that. You shouldn’t have interacted with him at all.”
“I’m sorry, but you hardly prepared me for this situation, did you? You lured me here—” I began.
Max straightened up. “Enough,” he said in a low, gruff voice. “We don’t have time,” he defaulted to saying.
How very nice. Was he going to use that excuse to get out of every conversation now?
Max was quick now. He didn’t linger as we walked through the bar. Instead, he walked with determined purpose until we reached the same door Dimitri had exited through. Max hesitated before he reached a hand out. In fact, he did something odd. I watched him open his mouth and saw his tongue curl and press against the top of his teeth. I heard him whisper something in that strange language he used whenever he was accessing his magic.
I felt a charge of power. It was subtle, barely there, and yet unmistakable as it tingled through the air.
He brushed his finger back and forth against the handle then jammed one of his short nails into the lock. Was this the magical equivalent of forensics? Was he trying to figure out where Dimitri had gone?
I didn’t get my answer. A second later, Max stopped abruptly and thrust the door open.
I kind of expected that it would lead back into that chair-lined darkened hallway. It didn’t. It led into the corridor beyond.
He walked through. When I didn’t follow immediately, he leaned forward, latched that same hand on my same shoulder, and shoved me in with him. He closed the door then turned to me. “Do I really need to remind you how serious this situation is?” he snapped.
There were so many ways I could respond to that – so many insults I could dream up. I could point out that this was all his fault. I could whirl on my heel, stalk away, and tell him to investigate this on his own time. Heck, I could just try to slap him and use
