than Cliff, who was six feet, making her feel at even more of a disadvantage.
But he didn’t charge in or make any threatening moves. “You know who I am,” he stated again.
She gave him an abrupt nod. “You’re Aidan. I’ve seen you around at the network.”
“And Cliff has mentioned me.”
She debated the wisdom of answering that one and wondered if he was one of the telepathic immortals, capable of reading others’ thoughts. “Yes.”
“As I said, we need to talk.”
Emma hesitated another moment. Cliff had never spoken poorly of Aidan. Quite the opposite. So she ultimately decided to ease back and open the door wide enough for him to enter.
Aidan stepped inside and glanced around while she closed the door.
“So?” She folded her arms just under her breasts and wished she wore a T-shirt instead of a tank top.
“So,” he parroted and actually looked as awkward as she felt. “You’ve been seeing Cliff.”
Emma kept her expression neutral. Should she deny it? Feign ignorance? Brazen it out?
Then reason penetrated the fog of fatigue and pointed out that if Aidan knew her address, he probably knew a hell of a lot more.
“How did you know?” she asked finally.
“Cliff is my friend,” he told her. “I sleep at the network during the day and have spent a lot of time with him since transferring to North Carolina.” He considered her carefully. “You know that immortals and vampires have heightened senses.”
She nodded.
“Well, I couldn’t help but notice that—on the nights Bastien takes Cliff hunting with him and lets him roam alone for a few hours—Cliff always returns carrying a woman’s scent.”
Emma lowered her gaze to her bare feet. Curse their heightened senses.
“I catch the same scent each time I pass your office at the network. And even if I didn’t, I’m telepathic and see you in his thoughts.”
As always, resentment that her relationship with Cliff was entirely dependent on the approval of others welled within her. Cliff still worried over Seth or Mr. Reordon discovering their relationship, convinced they would put a stop to it to protect her. So if Aidan was here to warn her away, he could go fuck himself. “If you’re here to tell me not to see him anymore, you can—”
“That’s not why I’m here,” he said. “Because I’m telepathic, I also know that Cliff is always in better shape mentally after spending time with you. He’s calmer. More at peace.” He shrugged. “I’m his friend. I wouldn’t take that away from him.”
All defensiveness fled. Emma lowered her arms. “He says I quiet the voices.”
“You do.” Regret darkened his features. “But Cliff is struggling, Emma.”
Her throat worked in a swallow. “He’s been struggling for a long time now.”
Aidan shook his head. “Yesterday was different.”
Fear and dread returned, making her stomach churn. “What happened? He didn’t come by last night. Did he have another break?” His rare absences always terrified her but usually only lasted a night.
“No,” Aidan told her. “But the voices clamoring in his head were so loud that they woke me from a sound sleep. And when I went to him…” Every second he hesitated, her fear escalated. “He was contemplating ending it.”
All strength left her legs. Her knees buckled.
Aidan hastily grasped her upper arms to keep her from sinking to the floor.
Emma gripped his forearms with desperate hands, fingers twisting the material of his sleeves. Moisture welled in her eyes. “Is he…? Did he ask Bastien to…?” End it for him? Was that why Aidan, not Bastien, had come to her? Because Bastien was too torn up over having ended his friend’s life?
“No,” Aidan hastened to assure her. “Cliff is alive.”
Tears spilled over her lashes as her chest rose and fell with harsh breaths taken to hold back sobs. “I thought you were going to tell me…” Shaking her head, she swallowed hard. “He’s okay then?”
Aidan guided her over to the sofa. “Let’s sit down, shall we?”
Nodding, she released him and sank down on the soft cushions. Her hands shook as she swiped at the tears cooling her cheeks.
Aidan retrieved a wingback chair from the corner and plunked it down across from her so he could face her. Seating himself in it, he leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. “I tried something new yesterday that I hoped would help him. I teleported him to a sunny meadow on my estate in Scotland.”
Shock stole her breath, bringing a halt to the sobs. “You hurt him?” she demanded furiously. “How could you? He’s been helping you—”