Tris looked torn for a moment, then he shook his head sharply and pushed past us, disappearing into the house. My eyes flew to the tough looking, tattoo covered man next to me. He was shaking.
“Len,” I said in the softest voice I could manage.
He whirled and strode through the open door. “Come on,” he muttered gruffly. “I should get you back to your boyfriend.”
FIVE
I LET LEN STEW until we were back on the highway, heading toward the Central West End and Guthrie’s apartment building.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, watching his stony profile. “I feel responsible for this. Maybe I could talk to him, or...?”
“I’ve been lying to him this whole time, just like he said,” Len grated. He shook his head, resettling his white-knuckled grip on the wheel. “Paranoia’s part of what he has to deal with, because of his condition. He’s been worried for ages that I wasn’t happy in the relationship, because the meds he’s on kill his libido.”
I winced.
“Jesus. I should’ve known not to lie to him like this,” Len continued. “Of course he assumed I was cheating on him. I should’ve known how he’d take it if I tried to hide things from him.”
You should have done what both Rans and Guthrie said, I thought. You should have run away from me as far and fast as you could, back when you had the chance.
“You were just trying to protect him,” was what I said instead.
His jaw clenched. “Yeah. Well, that worked out really great, didn’t it?”
There was nothing much to say to that. I let the conversation lull, breaking the silence only to offer directions back to the apartment building.
“Should I just drop you off at the front doors?” Len asked, as we turned onto the street.
“No. Come back up with me,” I said, even though it was in direct contradiction to my earlier thought that Len would be better off as far away from me as possible. But... I was worried for him. “You’re upset. I’d be happier if you weren’t alone right now.”
He would have been well within his rights to tell me to fuck the hell off, so it was kind of telling that he only paused and said, “Yeah... okay, Z.”
Of course, we’d already established that Len was lacking in the ‘self-preservation skills’ department. He pulled into the garage and entered the code I’d given him earlier, his face twisting into a grimace as he eased the land yacht into a parking space intended for something sized more like a Prius or a Civic.
“Jesus. You do realize this car is a rolling disaster, right?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood.
“It was cheap,” he shot back. “It’s got character, Z. Don’t diss the pimpmobile.”
“It... does have character,” I agreed, wincing a bit as the door squealed on its hinges. I scooted sideways through the tiny space left between the pimpmobile and the car next to it, sneaking a look at Len as I did so. He was still pale, and he still carried the deer-in-the-headlights expression of someone who’d been unexpectedly and summarily dumped by a person they truly cared for.
The elevator dinged as it reached the top floor, and Rans was waiting with the door to Guthrie’s apartment held open when we exited onto the landing. He smiled as we entered, though there was a certain tightness to it.
“Nice rope work, mate,” he said, pausing to draw me in for a kiss on the corner of my jaw. My skin tingled where his cool lips brushed it. “And thoughtful of you to capture a photo for posterity. Definitely the highlight of my week so far.”
“Never thought I’d be working with a female subject,” Len muttered. “First time for everything, I guess. You... uh, got a bathroom I can use?”
Rans waved him in the right direction, and he headed that way with a nod of thanks. Once he was out of immediate hearing range, I caught Rans’ eye.
“Tristan just dumped him,” I said, keeping my voice low. “They’d been having trouble since the whole... you know. Be nice to him, please. He’s not taking it well and I’m worried about him.”
A flash of sympathy lit Rans’ features before they settled back into tense lines. “I did try to tell the lad...” he muttered.
I nodded. “Yeah. Anyway, I’m sated, but not stuffed. Small crowd. How’s Guthrie holding up?”
“He’s all right, for a given definition. Probably due for more blood soon, but I want him to stretch his control a bit. Get a feel for how long he can go between meals and still keep his instincts under wraps.”
“That makes sense. So, what’s this idea you mentioned?”
Rans lifted an eyebrow. “It’s a fairly straightforward one. It involves using an ocean to our advantage.”
I blinked at him. “Um... okay. Sounds... wet?”
Rans drew breath, presumably to explain the rather cryptic statement, but he was interrupted by Len’s return. He still looked just as bad as before, though a few damp tendrils of purple-dyed hair at his temples made me think he’d splashed some water on his face.
“Look,” he said, drumming the fingers of one hand restlessly against the outside of his thigh, “maybe I should go after all. I—”
“Stay,” I said quickly. “Let me get you some food. I dunno about you, but I’m starving.”
He shot me a look from under dark brows. “Thought you just ate, Z.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Ha. Very funny. Told you, though—I’m only part sex demon. The rest is garden-variety human, which is why I always loved your steaks at AJ’s so much.”
“Why don’t you two relocate to the kitchen, in that case,” Rans said. “Guthrie’s working on something in the office. I’ll go get him so we only have to run through this once.”
I shrugged and led the way, Len following me with noticeable reluctance. Ironically enough, a quick poke around the fridge unearthed a couple of New York strip steaks wrapped in paper from a high-end butcher shop downtown.
“Must be fate,”
