Dorian blinked slowly. “Pardon me?”
“She was wearing something, though,” Hunter said quickly. “Technically. Lace. I think. Not much lace. Just enough to make bad decisions look very right.”
Dorian stood and poured himself a drink. Still offered him nothing.
Fine.
“And what did this ‘lace situation’ lead to?”
Hunter slumped into the couch, hoping it absorbed his shame. “Heavy petting.”
“The indignity of irritation,” Dorian said lowly, then he turned around and sat back on the armchair, rolling the liquor in the glass. “You’re a thousand-year-old demoniac intelligence with top-level status in the Dreamverse, and you just used the phraseheavy pettinglike a sixteen-year-old at prom.”
“I panicked.”
“No, you lusted, andnowyou’re panicking.”
Hunter looked up, need still simmering under his bones. “It wasn’t like that.”
Dorian sipped his drink, tasting it thoroughly. “It never is, until it is. Did you cross the line?”
“I was snatched off before it went too far.” Hunter ran both hands on his face and through his hair. “It wasn’t just that. I don’t know. Whatever’s buried in her, it’s... leaking.It’s the best way I have to describe what happened. But neither of us had control over it.”
A long silence passed. And then, without sarcasm, without snark, Dorian said, “Stay with her.”
Hunter blinked. “What?”
“Stay close. Whatever version of proximity you can manage.”
Dorian stood, crossed to the window, and stared out, arms folded. His voice was quiet, but it held a power older than time. “And stay ready. At this point, everything is unmapped. I will look into this, but meanwhile, for hers and the Dreamverse’s safety, you need to be close if something really is surfacing.”
“Yes, because I was such a game changer this time around.”
“I can take over if you want.”
“No,” Hunter all but screamed. The word, so excessively strong, was out before he had any control over it. Losing it was happening way too often lately.
Dorian raised a jet-black eyebrow, studying him but saying nothing.
Hunter stood and paced around a little. Staying still wasn’t possible right now. “Alright. Alright, I’ll stay close. Me.”
“Suit yourself.” Dorian headed to the bedroom. “And Hunter?”
“Yeah?”
“Best of luck, mate.”
“For the case?”
There was a stretch of silence that gave Hunter a pang of anxiety, then Dorian shrugged. “Let’s say yes.”
And he disappeared in the bedroom.
Well, that was new. Dorian never went,mate, ever. And luck with a case? It was not about luck, and they both knew it.
He sighed, reached for the glass of Scotch Dorian had left on the little table, and drained it.
Fine.
