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The exhaustion that twisted his features made my heart jolt in my chest. We were losing energy quickly. That meant we had to eat and go to sleep, even if the sun was still up right now.
“I’ll get the map from Sasha,” I told him. “And then I can make something to eat. How about steak and potatoes? Or beef with pasta? What do you want?”
Bruise chortled. “Right to his heart.”
“Uh, I think we’ve gotten enough from you,” Adam quipped. When my gaze sharpened, he coughed and corrected his tone, saying, “I mean, thank you for your help today, Bruise. It means a lot.”
Bruise nodded. “Anything else that requires assistance?”
“Actually, do you know anything about how vampires could travel quickly while the sun is still up?”
Concern crowded the fae’s face. It was odd seeing the worry in that colorful skin. My defenses triggered and alarms blared in the back of my mind. If Bruise didn’t know the answer to that, then what was going on behind the scenes?
And how could we get it to stop?
“Short of magical intervention, no,” Bruise replied. “But I’ll keep my ear to the ground about anything that could make that happen.”
“Do you know any fae who would be motivated to help Domingo? Or witches?”
Another frown. Another lengthy silence.
This was getting frightening.
“No,” Bruise said confidently. “Again, I will listen.”
Adam nodded. “Thank you.”
“Please, don’t hesitate to call with any questions,” Bruise said while standing from the booth. “It’s my pleasure to help the wolves.”
Once the fae left us alone, Adam reached across the table to grab my hands. He scraped my palms with his thumbs, massaging the aching muscles liberally. “Are you okay? Did that hurt? Were they rough with you?”
“Adam, what’s wrong? Why are you freaking out?”
“You just looked so…” He trailed off while lowering his gaze to our intertwined fingers. I squeezed his hands, causing him to whisper, “You were so sad, Lottie. I felt it. And it hurt so much.”
I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, Adam. Whatever it was is gone now.”
“Won’t you miss it?”
“I have no idea what I’m missing, baby.”
He huffed. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”
“Food,” I reminded him. “And rest. It’s getting critical. I can tell.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
My legs wobbled as I led Adam to the kitchen. After grilling some burgers—a last-minute decision that I didn’t regret—and loading our plates with baked potatoes, I set everything on a cart and guided him to the service elevator.
“Where are we going?” He yawned. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“I figured I could put you in a room.”
His shoulders slumped. “Oh.”
“Oh?”
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
