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I cover my face with one hand. “Oh, God.”
A cackle of laughter escapes her, and she arches a brow at me. “I hope that’s not what you were saying in bed!”
I groan and bury my face entirely, cringing with embarrassment from head to toe. It takes a moment for her words to fully register, but as they do, I blink into the darkness created by my hands.
Wait a second. Why would she say that unless she knows who Lucas is? Does she know? Does the whole company know?
I let my hands drop and look at her. She’s got a devious glint in her eye and a smirk playing around her lips.
“Did, um, did Lucas tell you how the plane crashed?” I ask.
She shrugs one shoulder. “The details weren’t as important as dealing with the crisis. I’m sure I’ll get a thorough debriefing as soon as he’s ready.”
Yes, okay, but how thorough are we talking? Is he going to just come out and tell her that a demonic dragon attacked the plane? Will he mention Reese and the fact that he’s a demon too, knowing that she’ll know what he’s talking about? Is she a demon herself?
“You’re really good at handling crises like that,” I tell her, edging subtly toward the questions I really want to ask. “Have you been doing this a long time?”
She smiles, her dark blue eyes sparkling. “Oh yes, quite a while. Lucas tends to get himself into lots of situations that require quick thinking and lots of connections to get him out of.”
Is she fucking around with me?
If she’s in on the secret, then she knows I can’t just come out and ask her if she’s a demon, or if she knows that Lucas is Lucifer. Or maybe she’s just answering the way anyone would answer those questions because she doesn’t know anything. Or, more interestingly, she’s answering that way because she doesn’t know that I know.
Ugh, this is so damn confusing.
“What kinds of situations? If I’m going to be with him on these adventures, I should probably be prepared,” I ask, poking a little deeper.
“Yeah. Youprobablyshould,” she says, emphasizing the middle word. She cocks her head to one side and looks at me thoughtfully. “You hungry?”
“I could eat,” I mumble, frustrated at the roadblock in the conversation. I follow her into the kitchen, which is all cream and red and chrome like an old-fashioned diner. I run my fingers along the oval countertop, looking around. “I like this. Very retro.”
She glances over her shoulder at me and smiles. “I like to stay up to date on most things, but once in a while something will come along that just feels nice, and I’ll keep it.”
“You say that like you were there in the fifties,” I remark as casually as I can, watching her face for a reaction.
Her smile widens, and she winks at me. “Maybe I was.”
Yeah. Maybe you were.
“You look really good for a septuagenarian,” I say, raising a brow.
“Why, thank you, darling.” She makes a show of playfully tossing back her jet black hair. “But I was a septuagenarian ages ago.”
She’s grinning like she’s joking, but there’s something in her eyes that makes me think she isn’t. I wander around the kitchen, looking at things and touching things, trying to think of a better way to nail down the truth and get a solid answer from her.
“So, plane crashes aside, what do you think of the job so far?” she asks, getting a question of her own in before I can come up with another one for her.
I look out her window, relieved at the chance to be on the receiving end of the questions for a moment. “It’s a good job. The people are good, too—even the ones who don’t like me. They all seem to be very loyal to Lucas. You, especially.”
“Of course. I’d go to Hell and back for Lucas,” she says without a hint of hyperbole.
I whirl around to find her chopping vegetables, and for a split second, I catch a glint of bright red in her eyes instead of their usual dark blue. They fade back to their regular color so fast I almost could have imagined it, but I’m not talking myself out of that again.
I saw what I saw, damn it.
“Have you?” I ask, deciding to stop dancing around the issue. “Gone to Hell and back?”
She freezes, then sets her knife down and looks at me. She tilts her head thoughtfully. “If I were to tell you that I’ve been working for Lucas since before he came to L.A., what would that mean to you?”
