“I see. I think.” But she didn’t sound as if she understood. She looked distracted. And dazed.
“Look, all things considered, will you give me your word you won’t run off? If for no other reason than for your own safety? At least for the time being?” He thought about reminding her about the cuff, telling her that he’d only bring her back anyway. But it didn’t look as if it would take much to push her over the edge.
She nodded.
She looked like she needed someone to hold her, but he couldn’t help her out with that, so he offered her the only thing he could. “I bet you could use a little time to yourself.”
She drew a shuddering breath. “Please.”
“If you’ll follow me, I can show you to your room.”
“My room?” Finally a spark of life came back. “I can’t stay here.”
She’d just agreed to stay. Gah! He could pull out his hair.
“You don’t have much choice, unless you want to meet Stolas and his minions, up close and very personal.”
She forced a swallow and then drew a deep breath. “I’ll stay here for now, for tonight,” she conceded. “But I have a job. I have to be back in Portland Monday morning. I have classes to teach.”
Frustration rolled through him. “Did you not listen to anything I just said?”
“I did. But I also have responsibilities, obligations—”
“Screw your obligations,” Gideon snapped. “If we found you, it was only a matter of time before they did. Hell, they were only half a step behind me as it was. Who do you think those three demons in the nightclub were looking for? What do you think they would have done with you once they got their hands on you? What do you think was going to happen here? You’ve been warned, so now you can go on your merry way? Hide in plain sight as you were? Put your head in a hole and pretend all Hell isn’t breaking loose around you?”
“No! Okay? No. But I have to figure this out. My life, my responsibilities might not mean squat to you, but they’re mine. And they mean something to me. I can’t just duck out without a word, without an explanation. My job is important to me. People depend on me.”
Christ on a crutch, the woman was aggravating. He was trying to save her life here, and she was worried about her double damned summer school classes.
“Look, darlin’,” he ground out, holding on to his patience like a dying man clutched at his rosary. “I’m not taking you back to Portland. I might as well tie you up with a bow and deliver you straight to Stolas’s doorstep, save him the trouble of sending someone else after you.”
“One more time,” she bit out, “I am not your ‘darlin’’.” Temper sparked as she stood up. Regal and cool as a queen, she demanded, “Show me to a room. I need to think, need to figure this out, and I can’t do that with you nagging at me. But you’d better understand, this is only temporary.” That being said, she stomped over and jerked the door open, then stood there, chin up, back ramrod straight as she waited expectantly for him to get up.
Nagging? Nagging!
He was surprised steam wasn’t rolling from his ears by now, fire spewing from his nostrils.
Gideon had half a mind to just shimmer her there. Partly to just get rid of her, partly just to piss her off. But he didn’t relish the tantrum that was sure to follow. With a growl, he shoved to his feet and strode past her.
“This way, your highness,” he grumbled.
Taking the steps two at a time, all shreds of chivalry stretched to the limit, he didn’t care if she fell behind. At the top of the steps, he turned right and strode to the end of the long hall, placing her as far from his own bedroom as possible.
But at the door, he paused and his conscience started to eat at him. She hadn’t asked for any of this, he reminded himself, hadn’t asked to have Michael as her father. Hadn’t asked to become a pawn in a deadly game of good versus evil.
Drawing a calming breath, he opened the door and stepped inside. Moth-chewed dustcloths covered the old furniture. Cobwebs and grime coated everything. The windows were too filthy to see through, the drapes sagging and riddled with holes. No one had occupied this room in over a hundred years. There wasn’t even a bathroom.
It was then that he truly realized how badly he’d let the house go. When he’d first taken up residence, he’d brought everything back to its original grandeur. But that had been long ago. Years of demon hunting, decades of failed attempts to thwart his curse, had not been kind, to him or to his home. Looking at the place now, through fresh eyes, he could see that years of neglect and disuse to many—most, if he were honest—of the rooms had taken their toll.