All last night, Andre had been on the phone with his contacts, bribing and threatening anyone and everyone he could to get my name off that list.
Problem was, there was no actual list. From what I understood, the hit was nothing more than a whisper in the night, passed from one shady being to another. Try as Andre might, he couldn’t remove a threat that had no origin and no traceable trajectory.
I took a deep breath. Time to lose myself in a good story and forget about the hot mess that was my life.
Just as I plopped down on a couch in Andre’s study and cracked open my book, the front door was thrown open and I swear to God I heard what sounded like yodeling.
I closed my eyes. There was Oliver, doing who the hell knew what.
A minute later he entered the study, escorted by one of Andre’s servants.
“Great Mother of Earth and Heaven and All Things Delicious, there you are!” Oliver said. “We were so worried!”
He crossed the room and swept me up into a huge hug. Behind him Caleb entered the room.
“Caleb,” I said, shocked. “What are you guys doing here?”
“Andre sent a car over to bring us over,” Caleb said stiffly, as though admitting to this made him uncomfortable.
“But the roads—”
“They were clear enough this morning to pick us up. Merry Christmas, by the way.”
Next to me Oliver pried my book from my hands and tossed it over his shoulder. “Merry Christmas!” he said.
“Hey—I was reading that,” I said, glaring at Oliver.
“Yeah, and now you’re not because the fun has arrived.”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
“So,” Caleb said, interrupting us, “what exactly happened two nights ago, Gabrielle?” He sat down in a nearby wingback chair.
I gave him a strained smile. “It’s a long story.”
I spent the next twenty minutes rehashing last two nights’ events, beginning with the kidnapping, and ending with the demonic hit list. I decided to omit the part about the devil talking to me while I was getting down with Andre. That had uncomfortable written all over it.
“The devil told you that you were fated to be his?” Caleb asked. He looked a little ill.
I winced and nodded.
“And he meant fate as in, ‘there was a prophecy, and I’m owed my due,’ or was he speaking in more general terms?”
I tipped my head back and forth, weighing his words. The devil was an arrogant, slippery being, but from everything I’d learned last night … “I think he meant the prophetic kind of fate,” I said.
Caleb’s throat worked, but he nodded. He stood up and rubbed his forehead. When he drew his hand away, realization flashed over his features. “Holy shit,” he said, staring off in the distance.
“What?” I asked anxiously.
His eyes met mine. “I have a theory.”
“A theory about what?” I asked.
“About you, the murders, the devil. But shit, it’s not good, Gabrielle.”
Oliver glanced at me, his eyebrows raised.
“What is it?” I asked Caleb.
His eyes were distracted. “Let me get my suitcase …” He trailed off as he left the room, his paces quick.
“Luggage?” I asked, turning to Oliver.
Oliver shrugged. “Andre invited us to stay here for the remainder of the investigation.”
“And you both agreed to it?” I asked, disbelieving him.
“Hey, I like Andre, even if he does scare the shit out of me. Plus, he loves you and you love him.”
D’awww.
“Also, I wanted to get out of that piece of crap inn,” Oliver added. He’d had the perfect response, and then he had to go and butcher it.
“What about Caleb?” I asked. “There’s no way he’d agree to stay here.”
“Well he did.”
I thinned my eyes. “And how did you manage that?”
Oliver sniffed, smoothing down his shirt. “I promised him you’d go on a date with him.”
“Oliver!”
Said fairy buffed his nails against his shirt. “What?” he asked innocently. “It’s his fault he’s a sucker.”
I let my forehead fall into my hands. “I’m starting to think our classicist textbook was right—fairies are evil little creatures.”
“Says the girl with fangs.”
Touché.
Oliver threw a sly glance over his shoulder, to where Caleb retreated. “So,” he said, turning back to me, “now that Caleb’s gone, care to tell me the rest of what happened over the last two nights?”
“And what makes you think that there’s more to it?”
“Please, honey. It’s me you’re talking to. I know an edited story when I hear one.”
My eyes flicked to the doorway.
“He won’t be back for a while. Now spill.”
And so I did, receiving a squeal from Oliver every time I mentioned a juicy detail.
Once I’d finished relating it to him, Oliver’s eyes were wide. “You mean to tell me that Andre was finally DTF, and the devil cock blocked you?”
I let out a sad laugh and pushed a hand through my hair. “Pretty much.”
“Damn, sweets, that blows loads.”
I gave him a dark look at his little innuendo.
“Or not.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway,” he continued, “I never would’ve pegged the devil as a possessive bastard when it came to his woman.”
“I am not his woman.”
Oliver patted my knee like I was cute. “I say you screw them both.”
“Oliver!”
“What?” he said, trying to look innocent. “Fate gave you two men; girl you should own that shit.”
“Hello, Oliver, one of those men just happens to be the devil.”
Oliver cocked his head thoughtfully. “You know that whole evil incarnate business might be really hot—he’s probably a god in the sack.”
Ew ew ew! “For the sake of our friendship, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”
“Fine,” Oliver said testily, “enjoy virgin-hood. I hear you guys make great sacrifices.”
I was about to respond when the sound of footsteps drew my attention to the doorway.
A moment later Caleb entered the room, a manila folder tucked under his arm. He dropped it on a nearby coffee table, and Oliver and I got up to take a closer look.