Christ, what did I just say? Did I agree to something?
A slight frown pulled at his brow as he scrambled to replay the last few seconds of their conversation. No. He hadn’t agreed to anything. But he hadn’t rejected her out of hand either, as he usually did. And now she thought, obviously, that he was willing to listen, to entertain her proposal.
Damn it all to perdition.
She rushed on before he could interrupt, “Just give me one day. One day, that’s all. I swear! Take me back so I can make arrangements. I’ll tell my supervisor something’s come up, a distant family member got sick or something, and I have to take an extended leave of absence. Let me just get things squared away. Then I’ll stay here, or wherever you want me to stay. For a while, at least. And no more poking at you about going back. I promise.”
She waited a beat, licking her lips again. He followed the movement, and he couldn’t find his voice.
She must have taken his silence as a sign he was wavering. Giving him a tiny, encouraging smile, she pressed, “Please, Gideon, my job is all I have. My whole life. If I don’t go back, if I just skip classes without any word to anyone, I’ll get fired. I won’t be able to get another job as a teacher. I need to contact my supervisor. I have to let her know what’s going on. Not the angels and demons stuff,” she hurried to assure him. “But I have to tell her something. And I need to let the substitute know about lesson plans and…please, Gideon. Please?”
“It’s not safe for you to go to the school. They’ll look for you there.”
“Then give me my phone back. I’ll call her.”
Guilt swamped him. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
He’d searched through her phone yesterday afternoon when she’d been occupied with her canvas and paints. Looking for anything that might stand out, anything that might tell him if she’d had more contact with Michael than she’d let on. He hadn’t been snooping, at least, that’s what he’d tried to convince himself.
He hadn’t found anything leading to Michael. But he had recovered several texts from someone named Brett. He’d read those texts shamelessly. All in the interest of protecting her, of course. And when he’d realized Brett had been expecting her for a date, well, his temper had gotten the better of him. The phone had drifted from his hand in tiny, crushed pieces before he’d even realized what he’d done.
“The phone’s gone,” he said flatly.
“Gone? Why?”
He scrambled to come up with a viable explanation. Something other than the truth. That he’d been jealous.
“They might be able to track you through your phone.”
There. That sounded reasonable. Never mind that it sounded like something he’d picked up off some TV crime show. Hell, yeah. That was a damned good possibility.
This news annoyed her. He could tell by the brief tightening of her lips. But she let it slide, thinking fast on her feet.
“Then let me use your phone,” she stated firmly. “I won’t have to go to school at all. You can take me to my house so I can pick up some things. I won’t take long. I promise.” She blinked up at him. “Please?”
He was going to cave. He could feel it, resist though he tried. This was a bad idea. Very bad.
“Stolas’s minions will be watching your house too. They won’t care who gets hurt,” he warned her.
“I’ll be fast, I promise. You can protect me, right? You can go everywhere I go. I won’t be out of your sight. Not for a minute. And there are the bracelets. If things get too hot, if someone—something—shows up, you can shimmer me away. I’m safe with you here, right? I’ll be safe with you there too.”
“There are ward stones surrounding this property, and spells, like there were at Sebastian’s farm. They prevent—or hinder, at least—other demons and most angels from shimmering inside the house and repel them from the property.”
“We’ll be careful. I’ll do everything you tell me.” She smiled, all innocence. Lifting her hand, she held it out, palm up in invitation. “You can even hold my hand so you know I won’t be too far away if we come under attack.”
Gideon recoiled from her hand, swiftly retreating behind his desk.
Her brows drew together on a sharp frown. Slowly, she lowered her hand, watching him now with unsettling awareness.
“Ten minutes,” he blurted. If he gave her what she wanted, maybe she’d be too happy to ask the questions he could see already forming on her tempting lips.
“Two hours,” she bargained instantly.
He narrowed his eyes. “One hour. No more.”