Had I been able to move my arms, I might have smacked her for not telling me that in the first place.
Linus must have read my mind or noticed the clench of my jaw, because he cut me a warning look.
“The problem is, the explosion was so intense, it tripped the wards I set. Well, that’s not the problem.” A sigh moved through her. “The actual problem is, the wards activated a second after the initial blast, allowing the momentum to knock us off our feet and into the ward that sealed around us.” She checked with Linus, who nodded, then kept going. “The ward was solid, and usually people are…squishy…but we were all impervious at the time, so we kind of flounced around and knocked into each other.”
“Like pinballs in a machine,” I finished for her.
“Well, Teach?” Grier ribbed Linus. “Did I ace the test?”
Smiling at her in a way I hadn’t known he could, with his whole face, sparkling eyes included, he promised, “I’ll let you know once my brain stops bouncing in my skull.”
“Meanie.” She elbowed him harder. “It kept us alive, didn’t it?”
“It would appear so,” he allowed, “but that might be the brain damage talking.”
Fighting her own smile, Grier gestured to him. “Do you see what I have to put up with?”
“I’m not sure this is the same Linus.” I wouldn’t have recognized him. “He’s so…”
“Handsome?” Grier supplied. “Sexy? Brilliant? Clever?”
It was interesting to watch Linus’s usually pale face cycle through so many shades of red. I hadn’t known he could blush, let alone so spectacularly. I was pretty impressed. It was almost like watching a laser light show cast over his features.
“I was thinking happy, or maybe relaxed, which is weird considering a bomb just went off.”
“Grier yanks the stick out of his butt.” Bishop picked his way closer. “That’s what you’re seeing.”
“He’s not that bad.” Grier slid her arms around Linus’s narrow waist. “For the record, I like his butt.”
“He’s my boss.” I found somewhere else to look. “I don’t want to know about his butt.”
“Can we please stop talking about my butt?” Linus sounded pained. “And myself in general?”
“The restaurant is clear,” Bishop announced. “The staff and guests are out on the street, safe and sound. Ford is corralling them until the EMTs arrive.”
“Good.” An exhale shuddered through me. “We need to debrief them and send them home.”
“EMTs,” Grier said thoughtfully. “We can pass the kit over to them and let them BS their way to getting us blood samples to test everyone who was in attendance.”
“Except for Ares.” I fisted my hands in Midas’s shirt. “Tell me she didn’t walk in on you.”
“Let’s get you home, and then I’ll show you what I found.”
“But Ares—”
“—got away.” Midas rubbed my arms. “I couldn’t reach her before she ducked back into her Swyft and vanished into traffic, and honestly, I wasn’t worried about her just then. All I could think about was you.”
“Hey, I don’t get blown up that often,” I protested. “Hardly at all, really, if you divide the total number of times into my age.”
“Hadley.” He spoke my name as if it weighed fifty pounds and he was afraid of dropping it on his foot.
“Fine.” I looped my arms behind his head. “You may carry me home.” I hopped and locked my legs around his waist. “Well?” I snapped my fingers. “You are the slowest manservant I’ve ever ridden.”
Midas cupped my cheeks in his palms, and yes, I mean those cheeks. The fact he did it beneath the dress had highly inappropriate chills dappling my arms. He stared down at me for a long moment then shook his head. “You’re still not funny.”
“And yet your abs ripple.”
His lips parted and then mashed shut and then flattened into an impenetrable line.
“You were going to say it’s strain from holding me.” I hammered his shoulders with my fists. “Put me down.”
He only held on tighter, which caused me to flush, given where he was holding, and started walking.
It was a long, hot march back to the Faraday.
Twelve
Back at the apartment, we spread out to refresh, regroup, and reassure family and friends we survived. I was the only one with idle hands, given that most everyone I cared about had been involved. A few even had front row seats for the big boom.
In another life, that might have depressed me.
In this one, I was happy with quality over quantity.
“Would you do the honors?” I passed Bishop Midas’s phone. “I need to change.”
Bishop nodded and set to work syncing it with the new ginormous television we had mounted last week.
Linus had, of course, not bought one during his tenure as potentate. He was all books, all the time. Me? Not so much. The recent addition made him pale as though pained to see technology creeping into what had once been his private haven of art and literature.
Good thing he hadn’t noticed I turned his bookcases under the stairs into VHS and DVD storage.
I mean, I didn’t want to see a grown man cry.
Ducking into the bedroom, I changed into bleach-splattered jeans, a tee with faded bloodstains, and new sneakers. I scooped up my hair to get it out of the way then washed my face and brushed my teeth, all to avoid what Midas had to show us for a few seconds longer.
Eventually, short of showering, I had run out of personal hygiene excuses and rejoined the others.
Everyone turned to stare when I entered the living room. I wasn’t sure how long I had kept them waiting while I delayed the inevitable, but it was clear they had started to worry.
Bishop handed over Midas’s phone so that I could control the flow of the video. “Just hit play.”
“Here we go.” I went to stand with Midas. “Walk us through what we’re seeing.”
“This is footage of the apartment Ares shares with her human mate,” he began, breaking it
