Spell Bound - Kelley Armstrong [111]
“Um, car?” Adam said as one whizzed past.
“It was on the other side of the road.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“Yes, it was,” I said. “Apparently you’re the one who’s had too much to drink. You were also the one lighting the candle with your fingertips.”
“Only after you started it, and only because people were looking, so I figured if we both did it, it would look like a party trick.”
“What else would it look like? I was lighting a candle, not teleporting across the room.”
“Ah-ha, so you were lighting it.”
“Of course, I was. I need all the practice I can get. Now, I’m going to work on my energy bolt. I’ll need a target, though.” I gave him a sidelong look.
He laughed. “I’d be a lot more worried if I thought you could hit anything smaller than a barn right now.” He took my shoulders and steered me to a fountain. “Does this look familiar?”
I squinted at it. Wooden benches and mossy rocks surrounded a round waterfall topped by two Cs carved in granite. Cortez Corporation.
“Oh, we’re here. I knew that. I was just getting some more air.”
“All the air in the world isn’t going to help you right now, Savannah.”
He helped me up the steps and into the foyer, then left me in front of the wall-sized aquarium of tropical fish. I stood there, mesmerized by the flashing rainbow of colors while Adam talked to the desk guard.
“Yes, they’re very pretty, aren’t they?” Adam said as he came up behind me.
“Is Lucas still here?”
“The guard says no, but from the looks he’s giving us, he’s ten seconds from calling for backup to escort us to a nice warm holding cell for the night. There’s no way he’s sending us up to see the heir to the throne. Not in our condition. Fortunately . . .”
He whipped out his security clearance pass at the same time as I pulled out mine. We both laughed. The guard at the desk buzzed someone and whispered into his phone.
“Don’t worry,” Adam said as we stumbled past the desk. “We’ve got our cards. Thanks for the assistance, though. I’ll be sure to let Mr. Cortez know how helpful you were.”
We got on the executive elevator before anyone could stop us. When we reached Lucas’s office, it was dark, his briefcase gone. There was a note for us on the desk, in Paige’s handwriting.
Left at midnight. If you two are much later, I’d suggest crashing in the lounge. Breakfast meeting at five thirty.
I checked my watch. It was past one.
“The lounge it is,” Adam said. “Flip you for the sofa.”
“Hell, no. I spent the night on a plane. I get the sofa.”
“Excuse me? I was up half the night researching that ritual for you. I deserve . . .”
We were still bickering when we reached the lounge and found . . .
“The sofa’s gone,” Adam said.
“It is? Good. I was starting to think I was even drunker than I feel.”
“Who the hell took the sofa?”
“I have no idea. When you find it, though, it’s all yours. I forfeit.”
I headed for the armchair. He lunged and we both scrambled for it. I made it there first and turned around to sit, but he jumped in behind me and I landed in his lap instead.
“Out,” I said.
“Uh-uh. I was here first. Either you go find the sofa or you get to sleep on my lap.”
I twisted, poking him with my elbows and hips.
“That’s not going to work,” he said. “I’m staying.”
I sighed and slouched in his lap. He shifted until he was comfortable, then leaned me back against him and put his arms around me. I squirmed until I had my knees pulled up, my chin resting on his shoulder.
“Feeling better?” he said.
“No, you have bony shoulders.”
“I mean, in general. Are you feeling better about everything?”
I nodded.
“Good.”
He smiled at me, and he was so close, I could feel the warmth of his breath on my lips.
His hand moved up, and he touched my cheek, thumb caressing it.
“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” he said.
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Really drunk?”
“I’m sleeping on your lap.”
He chuckled.
“Why? Are you worried I’ll puke on you?”
“Um, no.”
“Good, because I never puke.”
He laughed, his gaze dropping from mine. “Okay, I get it.”
“Get what?”
“You’re drunk.”
“Um, yeah. We established that.”
“I’m