The hell with that. I looked around
me for some kind of escape and came up with a flat zero, unless I wanted to pull a Virginia Woolf and walk into the sea. There was no place else for me to go. The tide was coming in, and beyond the house all was misty darkness and forest. Besides, I was finally going to get some answers to my questions, wasnt I?
I just managed to catch up with him. His long legs ate up the distance, but after a shaky start I managed a brisk trot. You neednt be so grumpy, I said, trying not to huff and puff. Its your fault Im here.
In case you dont remember, I was unconscious when they brought me back.
Thats up to interpretation, I said. I cant argue, since I seem to have huge gaps in my memory. What do you think they should have done, then? Left me in the forest? With those wild animals out there in the dark?
He frowned. How could a man have a beautiful frown? No, he said. They shouldnt have left you.
And what the hell were we doing there in the first place? What in Gods name is happening to me? I hated the plaintive note in my voice, but honestly I couldnt help it. I could be all Strong Modern Woman most of the time, but right now I was tired, cranky, and totally defeated.
He didnt answer. I hadnt really expected him to. Are you hungry? he said instead.
As a distraction, it was an effective one. I suddenly remembered I was famished. Yes. Why dont you take me to McDonalds and we can hash this out? I figured that was unlikely but worth a try.
No McDonalds, he said. No restaurants at all, but we have people who cook. Tell me what you want and theyll bring it to us.
Just like that? I said caustically. Not that I believed him, but if that was true, this might very well be paradise.
Just like that.
I decided to be difficult, simply because I could. Besides, my need for comfort food had become critical. Meat loaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, corn, strawberry shortcake for dessert. And a nice Beringer cabernet.
You want champagne with your strawberries? Red wine is a little heavy for dessert.
He was being sarcastic, of course, but I simply nodded. Of course. Moët, I think. No need to go overboard with Dom Pérignon.
He said nothing, walking into the house. I took one last longing glance outside. Nowhere to go. Until I found out what the fuck was going on, I was stuck.
In a place with, supposedly, limitless, effortless food and a beautiful man whod kissed me. I supposed things could be worse.
I had to run to catch up with him. He made no effort to adjust his stride to mine, and I was damned if I was going to complain. It was taking forever to get to his roomswe went through a maze of hallways, and up so many stairs I was ready to fling myself down on the polished wood floors, gasping and panting like a landed fish.
How much farther? I gasped, clinging to the thick, carved handrail.
He was watching me out of narrowed eyes. One more flight. My rooms are at the top of the building.
They would be, I said in a dire voice. And I dont suppose you believe in things like elevators?
We dont need them, he said.
No wonder Sarah was so lean and fit at fifty-something. She didnt need yoga, she just needed these stairs.
Sarah isnt fifty-something, Raziel said.
I froze. That time I didnt say it out loud.
No, you didnt. Youre very easy to read. Most humans are.
Most humans? WTF?
Wait until we get to my rooms.
I hadnt said anything that time either. I was getting seriously creeped out by this situation. It didnt matter how much food I got or how pretty he was, this was just plain weird. The kiss had been nice, from what I could remember, but I wasnt sure kisses were enough to
Im not going to kiss you again. I didnt kiss you in the first placeyou were drowning. I gave you breath.
This was just . . . wrong. Clearly silence wasnt silence to the creature I was following, so I quickly changed the subject, trying not to think about the cool salt taste of his mouth on mine. Then how old is Sarah? Shes married to Azawhats his name?
Azazel, he said. Yes, they are married; at least, thats as close a definition as most people could understand. And I dont know how old Sarah is, nor do I care.
I looked at him with astonishment. Shes got to be at least twenty years older than he is. And hes, what . . . thirty-five? Cool.
Hes older than she is, he said in a dry voice. And you might think twice about passing judgment on someone like Sarah.
If Azazel was older than Sarah, then I was the Virgin Mary. Im not passing judgment, I said rapidly, following him down the hallway toward another
miserable, cock-sucking, goddamned, motherfucking flight of stairs. I meant it. Too often its men who have younger lovers. I heartily approve of boy toys.
You think Azazel is a boy toy? Hell be entertained by the notion.
Christ, dont tell him I said that! I expect by this time their marriage is more platonic than anything else.
He looked amused, which was even more annoying. I believe they have a vigorous sex life, though I can ask Azazel to tell you all about it if you prefer.