Page 37 of Wooing the Wiccan
I blink at him, feeling like he just punched me in the stomach, and logic and reason flee. “So you weren’t serious enough about me to ask for that permission?”
“I was—Iam. But the law sets out a timeline, and we haven’t been together long enough to meet the criteria.” He looks me dead in the eye. “I hadeveryintention of applying for the dispensation. I’ve memorized that law, and I was only waiting for the time to be right.”
“What was tonight about, then? Community Hockey League… I’m guessing the words ‘of species’ are missing from that?”
He grimaces. “Tonight was a mistake on my part. I asked a colleague for advice on where our date should be, and forgot that he doesn’t know you’re human. I don’t usually follow hockey asa sport, so I didn’t realize this wasn’t a human league until it was too late.”
Rubbing my hands over my face, I wish I knew what to believe right now. What to feel. What to ask next, because somehow I know there’s more to this story.
The most random question pops into my head, and I throw it out there to buy myself time to think of the next one. “Do humans have a species leader?”
Raðulfr opens his mouth, then closes it. “I… don’t know. I think you must, but since you’ve lost your knowledge of the life force and the dual planes, you don’t know who they are.” He smiles sadly. “If you ever meet another human who makes you feel as though everything is right in the world, that’s likely them.”
My chest tightens with the loss of something I never knew I should have, and I cast around for a distraction. “So the government you work for…?”
“Not a human government,” he confirms, and once again, I try to think what DEA might stand for. “Jared?”
I look at him. That handsome face that sent shivers down my spine just hours ago is solemnly earnest.
“I don’t know who your species leader is, but I can introduce you to the lucifer.”
Butterflies take up residence in my stomach, and I’m not sure if they’re the nervous or excited kind. “You can?”
He nods. “The shifter I was talking about before, Sam? He’s the current lucifer, and I know he’d be happy to help you work through all of this. I can call him, and Gideon would bring him right over. Or we can go to them.”
I consider it carefully. Do I really want to meet a shifter and a demon? Someone who’s called “the lucifer”? Have strangers witness the breakdown I’m pretty sure I’m heading toward? No, I don’t. But on the other hand, the idea of meeting a personselected by the essence of the universe to be its mouthpiece on Earth… that would be kind of cool. Raðulfr said people feel secure in the presence of the invested leaders. This could be a way to determine whether Raðulfr is truly trying to earn back my trust. At the very least, it’ll buy me some time to think.
“Call him.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Raðulfr
This is going betterthan I’d feared, but I’m full of trepidation as I pull out my phone. So far, Jared hasn’t pressed me to tell him which species I am. I’m not sure if that means he’s already decided it doesn’t matter because he’s never going to see me again after tonight, or if he’s working his way up to it… and might still decide he’s never going to see me again after tonight. On the positive side, he’s not hysterical and some of his animosity seems to have faded. He’s still wary, but he’s asking questions and is curious about the answers. That all points to not needing enforcement to wipe his memories.
“Hello?” Sam’s voice in my ear gives me fresh hope. Gideon’s been setting boundaries lately about calls outside work hours, and I worried that tonight might be the night Sam actually humors him and doesn’t answer.
“Sam, I have a favor to ask,” I begin carefully. There are so many things Jared doesn’t know yet, and I don’t want to accidentally blurt them now. “I’ve been seeing someone recently?—”
“Really? Yes! I knew something was going on with you. Tell me all?—”
“Sam,” I interrupt, and my tone speaks volumes, and he falls silent.
“That doesn’t sound good. What do you need?”
I take a breath. “Jared is human, and tonight he accidentally found out about the community.”
“Shit,” Sam whispers. “How’s he handling it?”
Glancing at Jared, I reply, “He’s shocked and has a lot of questions. We’ve talked about the history that led to the secret, and I wonder if, as lucifer, you could come and reassure him?”
“Of course. Gideon!” he calls, then says to me, “Where are you? Your place?”
“No, at his.” Dammit, I’d forgotten this part. “Um…” I don’t think Jared will be happy with me texting Gideon a photo he can use to teleport here.
“Just tell me the address,” Sam offers, understanding. “I’ll look up a street-view pic on Google Maps, and Gideon can use that.”
My tense muscles loosen a little, and I relay the address. “Eoin is in the car out front,” I add, knowing Gideon can be prickly about Sam’s safety.
