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“All things?” I echo, returning to a new frown. “Like what?”
He pushes out a heavy breath. “Her soldier’s sovereignty, I guess. She was a little bent that I went to Gio for help on the helldive stuff instead of her.”
“Which she got over quickly, right? Once you explained that we might need her more now?”
“Nowbeing the operative word.” He accepts the small lean of my head as the commitment for a bigger explanation. “Reg is positive that Hecate isn’t our thief. She’s also ruled out all the Iremia diamonds.”
With a tug of teeth at my lip, I offer a nod. “I was starting to push at the same conclusion. Sometimes the obviousistoo glaring. Not to mention illogical.”
One side of Maximus’s hold is a tighter possession at my waist. With the other, he brushes a tender thumb across my cheek. Something flares in his eyes, answered by a sharp call from my instincts. Every note of it screams at me to leap off the block and drag him down the hall to my room. But I’m certain Veronica is lingering nearby, one ear primed for the snick of the opening door.
“There isthat,” he murmurs, still looking torn between his inner scholar and caveman. “One of the several points Reg clarified before she got to the interesting part.”
My focus spikes. “Does she already know who did it?”
“She has some solid theories about suspects,” he says. “As well as the kind of co-conspirators they’d need to take full advantage of the book’s powers. Coincidentally, a nice crowd of them is scheduled to be gathering in one place tonight.”
Forget the focus. Comprehension barrels in onmenow, slamming so hard that I choke. “At the EmStars?” I don’t wait for him to reply. “Oh, God. Ofcourseat the EmStars. Those dots connect better than all the rest of it.”
I shake my head, stunned that I haven’t already followed those basic circles—at least before Jesse, Reg, and him. More than the three of them, I’ve logged thousands of observation hours at the Hollywood get-ahead game. The spotlight lust. The glamor masquerade. More than anything, the desperate excuses for grabbing at more.
If someone was on the cusp of snagging that big brass ring—or whatever they perceived as such—they’d willingly sign their soul over to the devil. Or one of his minions. Or a witchy-leaning friend. Or some other otherworldly ally we haven’t fathomed yet. A supernatural support team that we have to find…
Before it’s too late.
“So where did you leave it?” I prompt. “With Reg? Is she going to contact someone? LAPD? The FBI? CIA?”
Maybe another agency in that alphabet soup. Or all of them. We need every scrap of help we can get right now.
But after three seconds’ worth of Maximus’s continued stare, I know those scraps aren’t coming. Not a single one.
“What’d there be to tell them?” he proposes. “That we lostonebook that we hid in a locked apartment? That nothing else was taken or damaged, and we’re both okay too,butthey’ve got to drop every other case on their desks because the cosmic realms are about to make World War Three seem like a sweet movie effect?”
I flatten my hands along the planes of his shoulders. My own sag before I can help it.
“So, what’s the plan?” My prompt is a dismal grate. “Isthere a plan?”
I’m unable to control the tears beneath the last of it. I drop my head, recognizing they’ve surfaced out of guilt. I should have been more responsible about the grimoire. Maybe—probably—insisted that we lock it in a bank, bury it in a bag of rice, or tuck it into a locker at the train station.
But the self-flogging only accomplishes one of two things. Attests that I’ve consumed more cheesy crime than I want to admit or proves that I’m too freaking tired for my own good. Or anyone else’s.
Once more, Maximus strips away the burden of having to decide.
“Ssshhh.Hey.” His mouth is strong but soft against my temple. His hand is big and reassuring at the back of my head. “There’s a plan, okay? We’re not helpless here.You’renot helpless.”
I dip a nod against his wide, warm chest. “Okay.” Then burrow closer into the haven of his embrace, savoring its perfect safety with my whole heart. At my center, there’s a growing warmth. Twiglet also knows when Daddy’s giving all the best nuzzles. “So, what are we going to do? What do you needmeto do?”
“I just got Reg signed on with your family’s regular security detail. Since I vouched for her, and she leveled the two biggest guys in a spontaneous combat challenge, they’re letting her start tonight.”
“The two biggest—” My own snagged breath is my interruption. “Do you mean Tor and Duncan? Reg is half their size!”
“And apparently has kept up with her Olympian training,” he returns. “So, she’s on the roster for tonight, but we fed the guys enough vague details that they know to give her some space. Without you there, I didn’t know if your team is wholly human, demon, or a mix of both.”
“Tor and Duncan are demons, but we’re never sure about the rest. They regularly rotate team members just to play it safe.”
“Good.” He ducks in to press his forehead to mine. “Because if they don’t do exactly that tonight, I’ll feed their balls to your mom’s Chihuahuas.”
I pull back an inch. “But what canIdo to help?”
