“We’d like two double beds, please,” I add, grabbing my navy hoodie’s strings and running them through my hands.
A corner of Harpoc’s mouth turns up as he glances over at me. The leather of his duster squeaks against the counter as he leans in.
“Oh, certainly. Let me see what we have.” She takes to tapping on the computer’s keys and after a minute, furrows her brow then starts tapping all the harder, as if that’s sure to dig up something she misses in her first pass.
I know what’s coming before she looks up a couple minutes later. Sure Harpoc’s magic can’t manipulate their system.
“I’m so sorry, but all of our rooms with double beds are sold out. May I offer you one with a foldout couch instead?”
Elbows on the counter, I give Harpoc a pointed frown.
He turns his hands palms up and shrugs, to which I roll my eyes, making sure he sees me.
“One king will be fine then,” I say, relenting.
A god fits in only a king-size bed. I laugh to myself, what’s that say about… size of other parts?
That’s a good one, Pell. My inner voice is enjoying my pissiness.
Several minutes later, Harpoc holds the door to our room open for me, and I stride in to find the promised king-size bed against a pale-lilac wall that’s inlaid with contrasting panels.
I step on the plush lavender rug that extends around the bed and dig my toes in the pile.
It’s not as nice as the previous two, but it’ll do.
Listen to me, no don’t. Put me in a couple nice rooms, and I become a snob. It’s a far cry from my hovel in Mycenae. Harpoc’s shown me a few of the finer things in life and it’s already corrupting me.
I inhale the scent of fresh lilacs that wafts about the room from a fresh bouquet that sits on one of the nightstands, and I can’t help but let my blood pressure fall.
Harpoc’s shed his coat and is leaning back in the desk’s chair on its back legs, stocking feet on the desk, watching me inspect the room. A bemused smile plays on his lips, and my fury lessens a couple degrees.
“Better be careful, you could fall over backward,” I caution.
“Have you ever?” His voice is filled with teasing.
I laugh. “Truthfully? No.”
“Check out the bathroom.”
I do as I’m told and can’t stop my hand flying to my chest the instant I pop my head around the corner. “How?”
My fury dims a few more degrees.
Harpoc chuckles in the other room.
Folded neatly on the white-patterned granite counter are my jacket in pristine condition, clean cargo pants, the pockets of which still house rubber gloves and my phone, the screen of which is whole. My like-new boots sit on the white marble floor below.
I snatch up my phone and hit Photos, then check the most recent pics. Nope, still not one of those infamous scrolls. I’ve no doubt at all who caused that, either him or his secret magic, which I really don’t like.
Cradling my phone in my hands, I saunter back out. “Thank you.”
He bobs his head. “My pleasure.”
Dropping his feet to the floor, he stands and strides over to me and looks into my eyes. “I’m sorry.”
For what?
He’s sincere; there’s no mistaking it in his beautiful eyes, and he waits for me to nod before continuing, even though I’m not sure what he’s apologizing for, despite me having a wish list full of things.
“Pell, when I got back to the room with coffee and you weren’t there…” I see a mix of emotions again at war on his face. “I feared you’d left.”
Ah, kidnapping. I furrow my brow.
“I thought perhaps I’d revealed too much and scared you away.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets, and I realize he’s uneasy—he worries that he overshared.
I only barely stop myself from rolling my eyes, and I force levity I don’t feel. “You’re too big and bad for me, a mere mortal?”
He chuckles. “You’re hardly that.”
But the next instant, his eyes go wide, like he says something he shouldn’t. He blinks his surprise away, and I’m again left wondering. It’s getting really, really old.
“I spent time beating myself up before noticing dirt on the carpet by the coffee table. Then I spotted an impression in the pile of the rug that could have been someone laying down. Considering you hadn’t that I knew of, it started me worrying.”
“Observant aren’t you?”
He frowns, like he holds himself responsible for missing it. “When you do what I do, you pick up on things like that.”
If only he wouldn’t.
But his mood’s shifting, I can feel it, and not for the better.
“I asked downstairs if anyone had seen you, but no one had, which really distressed me because if you’d left, you would have walked out the front door and grabbed a cab.”
He turns and starts pacing, and I realize how worked up he still is about the whole sordid mess. He cares. My heart warms a few degrees. He cares deeply, for me.
“I inquired after Zeki, and despite his shift just ending, no one had seen him.”
I take a deep breath to calm my rising emotions. “So you deduced it was Zeki and figured he’d take me to his plantation.”
He nods. “While it’s not very bright, it’s logical.” His mouth is in a line. “I took Zeki for granted and didn’t treat him as the threat I should have.”
He’s mad at himself, it’s clear, and I have to let part of my pissiness go.
I grab his hand and sit us down on the end of the bed. “None of your clients have ever done something like that after… how’d you put it, ‘they
