She could make conversation, empathize, and maybe find a chink in his armor all at once.“It’s never nice to feel unwanted.”
“That psych degree of yours must be getting a workout.”But Jake didn’t sound sarcastic.Just thoughtful.
“It’s useful.”She hesitated a little more, but a thin thread of coffee-smell reached her.Her stomach was about to tear itself free and go running after victuals caveman-style.“How long do you guys live, then?”I can’t believe I’m asking this.
“Long time.”He tilted his head, giving the question his entire consideration.“Unless we die in combat or go ’round the bend.Bet they haven’t told you that bit yet, huh?”
Liv just stared at him.Obviously she hadn’t heard about this, but saying so would only give him another reason to mock her.
This guy probably did a lot of mocking.
“Well, then.”He made a short, arrested motion, settling his shoulders.“Storytime with Jacob, littlelirai.You gonna come out?”
When he put it that way, she didn’t think she wanted to.“You going to behave if I do?”
“Absolutely.”Now his perfect white teeth gleamed at her.“Like the good little boy I once was.”
“Were you?”I don’t think you were.You have narcissism written all over you in neon, and underlined as well.
“Right down to my toenails, ma’am.”He didn’t move as she edged into the rest of the suite, though his eyelids lowered a fraction.He didn’t try to shrink like Erik; this guy had probably never thought about how his sheer size would make someone else feel.“So, let’s say you have the qualities necessary to become a Son of Ymre.”
“Which are?”It was on the tip of her tongue to saylike kidnapping?Which probably wouldn’t go over very well.
Like a lead balloon, Mom would have said.It hurt to think of her mother, as always, and Liv didn’t have her usual distractions around to anesthetize.No phone, no friends, no job—they were probably climbing the walls at the office right now.Sal Kinnock often said missing a good paralegal was like missing his hands.
Someone else was going to have to miss his groping pinches, though.Liv was trying not to feel relieved about that particular prospect, and failing miserably.
Jake ticked off qualities on his callused fingers.“Stubbornness, intelligence, and a certain… flexibility.”He halted, obviously wanting her to ask another question.
So, he liked performing for an audience.Liv took a few steps toward the table.“Physical, mental, or moral?”
“Yes.”The way his grin intensified said he was pleased, teaching the little lady some of his tricks.
Even with superhuman abilities and loaded with weapons, men were all the same.Liv lifted the tray’s big silver cover.Pancakes—looked like whole wheat—and strawberries.Milk.A blushing, deeply ripe peach, neatly sliced, a tall white paper latte cup.“Great.”
“That’s not even the fun part.”Jake probably didn’t like sharing her attention with breakfast, which was right where she wanted him.
So she threw him another question, just like a bone to a stray dog.“What’s the fun part?”
“Along with being able to survive shit that would kill a superhero?The creeping insanity.”He paused, examining her expression.A puppy or toddler, checking to make sure someone was observing so they could be certain of their own reality.“It’s the god, you see.He’snuts, and does his best to drive us off the deep end, too.”
“The mad god?”There isn’t anything in the DSM about that one.Even if she could believe the tentacle-horror she’d seen with her own eyes, a god was something else—or maybe it was just her good old-fashioned American agnosticism talking.“So…”
“Well, mad or obeying the dictates of an inhuman intelligence, what’s the diff?Anyway, if we go off the rails,hecan reach through us.”Jake warmed to his work, losing his faint professor’s sneer.He was a lot handsomer without it; Mika would have liked his easy manner but not his disdain.Her old roommate Sandra would have snapped this guy up in a hurry, putting him through his paces and coming back with a full report before leaving him in the dust the instant he stopped measuring up—in any direction.“The unhinged were always his chosen prophets, before.”
“Great.”Her stomach closed, tight as a fist.Still, Liv settled herself gingerly at the small table and reached for the latte.How many more euphemisms for mental disorders would this guy come up with?“So… is it a cumulative effect?”In other words, was she going to have to worry about one of them snapping and doing something nasty to her?
Dealing with men always revolved around that question.
“Sort of.The only real inoculation’s alirai; even a potential’s presence mutes the whispers bigtime.”Jake folded his hands behind his back, settling into what was probably called parade rest.Erik often stood that way, too.“Seal a Dreamer up, though, and you?—”
Okay, hold on a second.“Hang on.”Thin icy drizzle slapped at the window.Looked like the storms had moved in for real.She certainly wasn’t missing the indignities of her morning commute, to be honest.“Seal?”I don’t like the sound of that.
“You should ask Ignatius about that part.”Jake’s posture changed, and he spread his hands—but slowly, carefully; maybe he’d just realized the relative difference in their sizes.Or maybe he’d said too much.“He wouldn’t like me making a mess of explaining.”
“I’ll do that.”She rescued a pen and a scrap of plain paper from the clutter of last night’s festivities, scrawled a note.Ignatius: Seal?“You want some of this?I can’t eat it all myself.”
“You think it’s poisoned?”
