how big of a mess I’ve made mixing paint. “Who said I was even thinking about Armani black?”
“Sorry. I just…” For the first time since I first saw him, he looks totally discombobulated. Like he’s said too much but also not enough. I almost ask him what’s wrong, but then I remind myself that we’re not friends. That he’s just a guy squatting in my brain for a while, and he’s not even a very nice one. I don’t actually owe him anything.
I speed up my cleaning, determined to get to the library before Jaxon totally gives up on me. I expect Hudson to snark the entire time—it is his favorite pastime, after all—but he’s strangely silent after the Armani comment. Which I’m grateful for, because it lets me focus entirely on getting the supplies put away.
I’m just about done when the door to the art room flies open on a gust of wind. Cold air fills the room, and I whirl around, wondering what new threat I’m facing—only to find Jaxon standing there, watching me with a small smile and unfathomable eyes.
“I’m so sorry!” I tell him, rushing forward to greet him as he slams the door closed behind him. “I totally got carried away with my painting and I lost track of time. I didn’t mean to—”
“Hey, don’t worry about it.” He looks me up and down, his smile growing as he takes in my paint-covered artist’s smock. “I like this look.”
I give him the same kind of once-over he just gave me, taking in the frayed jeans and the black designer T-shirt. “The feeling is definitely mutual.”
“Oh yeah?” He wraps me in his arms, and I feel a warmth deep inside me—sexy and comforting and exciting all at the same time. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“You smell good,” I tell him, burying my nose in the bend between his neck and his shoulder for several long seconds. And he does, fresh and bright and so, so amazing.
“Yeah, well, I can say that feeling is mutual, too.” He scrapes a fang across the sensitive skin beneath my ear. “Very, very mutual.”
“Tell me you’re not serious,” Hudson says with a yawn. “Tell me this isn’t the pinnacle of your scintillating conversations.”
Why don’t you take a nap or something, I hiss at him even as I pull away from Jaxon.
“You ready to go?” Jaxon asks.
“Yeah, just give me a minute to get the rest of the supplies put up.” I take off my apron and store it in my cubicle, then finish putting the bottles of paint back in the cabinet.
Five minutes later, we’re walking through the tunnels—tunnels that seem nowhere near as frightening when Jaxon is by my side, talking about what he’s found in his hour-and-a-half search through the library’s magical databases.
“I’ve spent most of tonight trying to identify what the Unkillable Beast is,” he tells me as we make it to the rotunda with the huge bone chandelier hanging from the ceiling. “There are so many different versions throughout the last several hundred years, almost like it’s more fairy tale than real monster, that it’s hard to get a read on what we’ll be facing if we go up there. Except for the fact that almost no one makes it back alive—and those who do can’t agree on what they’ve seen.”
“Is there anything similar in the different accounts?” I ask, focusing on the conversation and not on the fact that I’m about to pass the tunnel where Hudson’s ex-girlfriend tried to murder Jaxon and me. “I mean, besides the ‘everyone gets dead’ thing?”
I think about asking Hudson what he remembers about that night—if anything—but decide it doesn’t matter. Besides, what if he wants to take a field trip to the scene of his reincarnation? Show-and-tell isn’t really my thing, especially not down here.
“I don’t remember anything,” Hudson tells me quietly as he strides alongside us, one hand casually sliding along the stoned and jeweled walls. He’s a few inches ahead, so I can’t really see his face. “I didn’t put her up to it, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
I’m not thinking anything, I answer, though that’s not quite the truth. It’s hard not to be afraid of Hudson when I’m down here, harder still not to be angry with him. Maybe what happened wasn’t his fault, but it’s hard to imagine that he and his persuasive power didn’t have some small role to play in the fact that Lia was obsessed with bringing him back.