"Oh, that was before," she said, returning to her book as she waved a dismissive hand toward me.
"Before what?"
"Before Theo explained he wasn't for me."
I sat on the chair, staring at Sarah, confused by her calm acceptance of the short-lived lust she had felt for Theo. "Aren't you the least bit disconcerted about the fact that Theo interested you? Should happily married women feel that sort of thing?"
"They should if the man in question is a nephilim." She sighed at my puzzled look. "I thought you knew about nephilims? Didn't Theo tell you that they have an effect on mortal women?"
"No, he didn't." I frowned.
"Ah. Well, that's why I initially fell victim to his attractive self. He dismissed the effect once he realized I was being affected by it."
I shoved myself out of the chair and stalked to the far side of the room. "He didn't dismiss it for me!"
"That's because you weren't affected by him in the first place. That's interesting, actually. It could mean he's the real deal, at least so far as you and he are concerned," she said, looking thoughtful.
That was a thought. I considered that for a moment, then decided it was yet another distraction I didn't need in my life. I wished Sarah good night, and left her to her book.
I slept poorly, waking up roughly every hour to find myself wrapped in vague remnants of nightmares. The unease caused by the nightmares hung over me all day, leaving me feeling itchy and nervous even though we spent a delightfully normal day touring a nearby castle, during which no ghosts, ghouls, specters, or phantoms of any sort manifested themselves.
"It was nice to have a day where the oddest thing we encountered was that woman who insisted on bringing her parrot on the castle tour," I commented at dinner that night.
Sarah glanced toward the door of our private dining room, nodding. "Although I could have done without you expounding at length about how much force would have to be supplied to rip someone's limb off while on the rack."
"You are the one who insisted on seeing the torture chamber. I was simply answering a question of physics."
Sarah gave me a look that spoke volumes, glancing once again over my shoulder at the door before eating a bite of garlic-roasted potato. I pushed a clump of limp broccoli to the side of my plate, and rearranged a bit of hollandaise sauce more attractively around a mound of poached salmon.
Sarah looked past me again.
"For Pete's sake, will you stop that! You're making me as nervous as a cat."
"Aha!" Sarah waved her fork, bedecked with a piece of pork loin, at me. "I knew it! And you said you weren't nervous earlier when I asked you when today's trial was going to be."
"I wasn't nervous until you started looking over my shoulder every five seconds." I set down my fork and stopped pretending to enjoy the meal. "Oh, this is ridiculous. I'm letting myself get all worked up over nothing. Obviously whoever is Theo's cohort of the day has had a change of heart. So you can stop looking over my shoulder for him, because he's probably decided we're not worth what must be a sizeable outlay of money to pull off whatever scheme he's attempting."
Sarah chewed the bit of pork. "How you can sit there and deny that Theo is exactly what he says he is - "
"I deny it because it's perfectly clear he's a con man - "
"A man you think is sexy as hell - "
"Well of course I do! He is! But that doesn't excuse the fact that he's trying to pull some scheme - "
"Admit it, Portia." Sarah speared another bit of potato. "Part of the attraction he holds for you is his undeniable air of mystery, that dangerous sense of the unknown that sends shivers down your back every time he's near. No woman can turn away from that - it's a scientific fact that bad boys are completely irresistible! Give in to your inner woman and just admit he chimes your bells because of what he is."
I pushed back from the table, tossing down my napkin. "You're impossible when you're in that sort of a mood. You're sure you don't want me to go with you tonight?"
"No, you take the evening off. You wouldn't enjoy sitting in a graveyard with the clairaudients, anyway."
I smiled instead of giving her a piece of my mind about the so-called skill of recording the voices of the dead, and mentioned that I'd amuse myself instead with a walk around the countryside.
"That's a great idea - your mind will be refreshed by the walk for the next trial."
My smile turned wry. "Whatever. Have fun in the graveyard."
"Maybe we should call Theo," Sarah mused to her dinner as I headed out of the room. "Maybe he would know what's up with the trial..."