That froze him in his tracks. “Damn you, Xander,” he hissed beneath his breath.
“You should have told me, Gideon.” Maggie crossed her arms, aware she was standing there in little more than a thin nightshirt and panties arguing with a half-naked, very pissed off demon.
A muscle bunched and leaped in his jaw. He drew himself up, his presence taking up more space in the room than she’d thought possible.
“You’re right. You don’t know me,” he informed her in a quiet voice. He took one more step toward her—a step of warning, a step of promise. “So let me sum this up for you in a nice tidy little nutshell. Whether or not you like it, I’m a demon. You’re a Halfling. And, for the time being, you are under my protection.”
He stopped speaking and drew a deep breath, glowering at her, all but begging her to argue. She couldn’t find her voice. Could only swallow, her wide-eyed gaze locked on his.
“You are carrying my child. My. Child. Not some damned relic,” he stated possessively, making her heart flutter. “There’s also the little matter of these.” He held up the wrist with the cuff on it.
“Take them off,” she whispered. And even having said the words, she prayed he would deny her.
“No.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Why not?”
His lips compressed, and something odd flickered in his gaze.
Frowning, she pressed. “Why not, Gideon? Because without them you can’t touch me? Because I won the catch-a-demon-lover raffle by default? Go me,” she snapped, even as she watched him closely for a reaction.
He drew back, as if she’d somehow wounded him. And that made her feel an inch tall. Damn him. But then he blinked, and that odd light was back.
Guilt. That’s what was written all over his face. Guilt.
Finally, he pointed at his neck. “Notice what’s missing?”
Frowning, she glanced down at his bare, unmarked throat. She shook her head, meeting his gaze in confusion.
“I wore the key to these cuffs on a chain around my neck.” He raked both hands through his hair. “Mortika? ripped it off in the fight at your place. Now he has the key.”
“Mortika??”
“Mortika? is…” Something very dark and very ugly flickered over Gideon’s face as he spat the name out. “A mortal enemy. He was always jealous that I moved up in the ranks of Lucifer’s army faster than he did. He was jealous of my powers. But he’s lethal in his own right, and very dangerous. Remember the demon I told you about during practice? The one that can summon Hellfire? That’d be Mortika?.”
She nodded, waiting for him to go on. When he didn’t speak, she prompted, “And without that key?”
He gritted his teeth, making the muscle in his jaw leap once more. “Without that key, these cuffs are never coming off.”
He turned and stalked to the window. Pulling the drapes aside, he stared out into the night. Maggie watched the silvery light play over his muscles, gleaming here, falling away into shadow there, as she struggled to grasp how Mortika? having the key to the cuffs would affect their situation.
“As long as he has the key to these cuffs, I’m not taking any chances. I won’t risk him getting his hands on you. He could take them off, and then I wouldn’t be able to—” He turned back and a pallet appeared on the floor near the door. “I’ll sleep there,” he said.
The heat had drained out of him now, and he projected weary resignation. She didn’t like seeing him like that. Someone like Gideon was meant to take control of a situation and bend it to his will. He was meant to be filled with spirit and charisma. He was meant to dominate.
“You can have the bed,” he went on. “But neither one of us is sleeping elsewhere. Not tonight. Not any time in the foreseeable future. So you better get used to my snoring.”
Long moments passed as she stood there, hand on the doorknob, head bent, searching her soul. As if she had any choice in this matter. Finally, with as much dignity as she could muster, she crossed the room once more and climbed onto the bed. Turning on her side, she pulled the covers to her ears. She’d been deliberately cruel, wanted to hurt him before he could hurt her. But the way he’d recoiled whenever she’d accused him unfairly haunted her.
She’d only managed to make herself feel even worse.
Another long moment passed before Gideon’s footsteps faded across the room. The lights blinked off. Maggie could hear the shuffle of blankets as he settled on the pallet. And then a brutal silence descended.
Minutes or hours passed, she couldn’t tell. But, oh dear Jesus, it felt like forever. Every time she moved, the rustle of sheets, the muffled squeak of the bed made her flinch.