He raised his eyebrows. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”
I shrugged. “I was a bit busy dealing with the Red Devil dying on George’s living room carpet. And then I was distracted by—” I smiled at him “—other things.”
“Definitely the highlight of the evening for me.” He slid his warm hand along my arm before he frowned. “The ‘other things’ you speak of, not dying on the carpet.”
I grinned. “I figured that’s what you meant.”
He took the BlackBerry from me, pressed the on button, then scrolled to the list of sent and received messages.
I saw a long line of my cell-phone number from when Gideon had contacted me or I’d contacted him.
“You have been in constant contact with him, haven’t you?” he said unpleasantly.
“He is blackmailing me.”
“Of course.”
There was only one other number listed several times.
It was a number I recognized all too well.
I shook my head. “No, there has to be more.”
“This is all there is. The device has only kept a record of the past five days.”
Breathing was beginning to be difficult as my heart slammed against my rib cage. I couldn’t believe that number. I knew it. I’d dialed it myself many times before.
“He holds a clue in his hand,” the demon possessing the teenaged wizard had told me. “Of a betrayal you would never expect.”
“No, it’s not possible,” I managed.
Thierry regarded my stricken expression. “What’s wrong?”
I tried not to throw up right then and there.
A betrayal I’d never expect.
He frowned and touched my face with concern. “Sarah, who is it? Who is Gideon’s informant?”
I swallowed so hard it hurt. “It’s George.”
It was nearly two o’clock in the morning when George got home.
He jumped when he saw me waiting on the couch for him and put a hand to his chest.
“Okay, that was creepy. Are you lying in wait ready to pounce on me?”
“I’m like a ninja.” I eyed him. “A dangerous, pissed-off ninja.”
“I’m glad you’re still up.” He threw his coat into the closet and untied his black bow tie, which, along with his tight black pants, was the sum total of his new waiter’s uniform. “I think I was fired. I’m officially morbidly depressed and I really need a friendly face right now.”
He’d come to the wrong place for that. “Why would they ever want to fire a great guy like you?”
He didn’t seem to notice the seething sarcasm attached to the words.
He rubbed his temples. “It’s very possible I spilled an entire tray of drinks on a bachelorette party who then decided to take up their squelchy disappointment with the manager. She, in turn, yelled at me for being distracted on the job and threw me out. It wasn’t pleasant.”
“I bet.” So he was distracted, huh? I guessed not telling your friends you’re spying on them had a tendency to weigh heavy on one’s mind.
“I’ll find another way to make some extra cash.”
“Oh, I’m sure you will.” I patted the seat next to me. “Come sit. I want to have a little chat with you.”
He looked at me warily. “Everything okay? You seem a little, what’s the word? Freaky?”
“I’m queen of the freaks right now.”
His brows lowered. “You’re still wearing your chain, right? Not feeling like biting anybody?”
“I’ll keep my fangs to myself. Promise.”
Hesitantly, he did as I asked and sat down next to me. I searched his handsome face for a definite sign that he was a liar and a traitor—like somebody I trusted more than almost anyone else in the whole world, but who would betray our friendship like a dirty rat bastard.
He had his hands clasped together tightly and a tense, frozen smile on his face. “So… what’s up?”
“Is there something you’ve been keeping from me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Something important that has been affecting your moods and causing you to spill drinks on unsuspecting women?”
He let out a shaky breath. “Yes. But, I can’t say anything.”
“Really?” I cocked my head to the side. “Why? Is it a surprise? My birthday isn’t until
October.”
His bottom lip wobbled. “Look, I know I’m acting strangely. But you… you just have to trust me. And don’t ask me any questions.”
“Trust you?”
He nodded. “Sometimes I have to keep secrets. If I don’t, then people will get hurt.”
This wasn’t exactly the reaction I’d been expecting. “What are you talking about?”
He grabbed my arm. “I love you, Sarah. In a completely nonsexual way, of course. But whatever happens, I want you to remember that. And I love Amy. And I love Barry… although not nearly as much as I love you and Amy.” He glanced off to the armchair next to where we were seated. “Oh, hi, Thierry. I love you, too.”