Page 57 of A Touch of Crimson
“I believe you will find,” the archangel called after him, “that I am a friend worth having in your corner.”
“Unlike you, I don’t have a corner.” Adrian stepped into the elevator and faced Raguel, baring his teeth in a feral smile. The archangel’s territory extended only across North America; Adrian had no such limits.
The elevator doors closed, shutting out the look of sharp consideration on Raguel’s face.
Shadoe had never run from Adrian before. After she’d seduced him past all restraint, rules, and better sense, she had been ferociously determined to keep him enthralled. It had taken her a long time to break him down initially, a relentless and passionate assault on his senses that led to him falling on her in a mindless rut, driven past all reason. Ever since, her incarnations had been consummate seducers, and she’d relished his every surrender.
Until now.
Now he was alone, stripped of the people he’d relied on for support. First Phineas. Then Simone. Lindsay’s departure was equally hard to take. He’d found comfort in her presence, and he missed her already. But Adrian refused to let his losses affect his ability to carry out his mission.
He did concede, however, that they were likely the first of many signs that his retribution was nigh.
Lindsay was still kicking herself when her plane landed at John Wayne Airport. It wasn’t like her to run. She was a doer. A woman who faced things head-on. She didn’t like leaving things to chance or not knowing the score.
Yet the minute an escape route had been opened to her, she’d bolted. Not because she was frightened. No—that was a lie. Everything about Adrian Mitchell scared the shit out of her. The way he affected her was damn scary.
She was so used to making do by herself, keeping to herself, and he got under her skin so deeply that she was already beginning to forget what it felt like without him there. She couldn’t forget, however, what it felt like to be herself. The experience had been freeing, and now she was returning to the cage of the “real” world.
The sense of loss was almost like grief.
But she would learn to deal with it. Having Adrian’s soul on the line was powerful motivation. He was too valuable to waste on her.
The wind, that fickle bitch, taunted her with soft whispers. Adrian… Go back to Adrian…
“Fuck you.” She exited the terminal with no more than the designer clothes on her back, her phone and emergency charger she’d bought at the airport, and a ridiculous amount of cash in her messenger bag. She intended to pay back every penny she spent, but she hadn’t had the luxury of leaving the money behind. Not while Adrian had her suitcase at his house.
Which made it inevitable that she’d see him again. At the very least she had to retrieve her luggage. She could ask him to send someone down the hill with it and spare them both the awkwardness, but she wouldn’t. They had unfinished business, and he deserved the courtesy of hashing it out in person.
She headed to the nearest taxi stand.
For a single surreal day, Adrian’s life had felt like it could be her life. But that was a ridiculous fantasy. His existence was filled with private jets, presidential suites, Maybachs, a home showcased on television, dragons, demons, vampires that foamed at the mouth, skies filled with angels, guys who turned into wolves, and regenerating limbs.
Meanwhile, she was a mentally scarred, slightly crazy, middle-class mortal with a death wish. Nary the twain shall meet.
Downtime to get her head on straight and catch her bearings—that’s what she needed. Then she could plan her next steps. Steps that would lead her away from Adrian. The temptation he presented was too great. She couldn’t trust herself around him.
Sliding into the backseat of a cab, Lindsay directed the driver to take her to the Belladonna hotel. Mr. Gadara had offered her one of the finished suites until he could make arrangements for her to move into one of his residential properties. She’d been surprised by how sweet he was. For such a powerful and well-known public figure, he seemed remarkably down-to-earth and approachable.
She pointedly ignored the fact that whatever sort of being was driving the cab was sending out the kind of malevolent, inhuman vibes that would formerly have put him on her hit list.
“It’s your lucky day,” she murmured, meeting the curious glance the driver shot her through the rearview mirror.
Lindsay pulled her phone out of her pocket and turned it back on. She wasn’t surprised when it chirped a multitude of voicemail and text message alerts. Steeling herself against a suddenly knotted gut, she read the texts first.
No trouble til I get there, pls (this is Elijah BTW)
“Aw, fuck,” she muttered, feeling like an asshole for leaving him holding the bag. If he got in trouble because of her... Well, he just better not, or she’d be pissed at Adrian for not being fair.
Then Adrian.
Call me.
She dialed his number.
“Lindsay.” His voice, modulated and smooth, made her grip tighten on her phone. “Are you in Anaheim?”
“Not yet. I just landed.”
