Thirteen (Otherworld 13)

As we walked to the rental, I checked my phone and found a message waiting from Adam. Just one line: Would love to talk.

I stared at that message. Just four words that could mean only "Hey, I'm bored, give me an update!" Except that when Adam did mean that, it's exactly what he wrote. This was different. This was . . . "MORE personal" isn't the right phrase. Adam has been part of my life since my mother died. He's been my friend for years. I've told him things I've never told anyone else, and I think he's done the same with me. It's always been personal. But this . . . it seemed different.

I wanted it to be different. That's a given. I've been waiting all these years for it to become something different, but nothing had ever changed between us until this morning.

Had it really been just this morning? It seemed like a week ago.

But this morning, Adam had kissed me and it hadn't been just a peck on the cheek. Not a "I'm happy to see you didn't perish under

a pile of rubble" kind of kiss. It'd been a real one, the kind I'd been dreaming of since I was twelve and he walked into my cell to set me free and burned my name in a heart on my prison wall. Burned his name on my heart, too.

It figures, doesn't it? Finally get to kiss the guy, and before you can find out if he really means it, you're whisked away. Thrown in jail. Escape jail. Escape a hell-beast. See your mother resurrected from the dead. Escape demon-possessed children. Terrorize an informant. Have drinks with a hooker. Rush off to infiltrate enemy ranks before they skip town. It's like the universe is conspiring to keep us apart, even if it had only been--I checked my watch--less than ten hours.

I thought of calling him instead of Lucas. But this was work and Lucas was in charge, and passing along a message through Adam wasn't just cowardly--it was unfair, asking him to make a decision about my safety.

So I just texted him back: Will call as soon as I can.

As soon as I hit send, I realized that wasn't enough. So I sent a second one: Can't wait to see you.

I hit the button. My fingers were trembling, heart thumping, as if I'd just texted a declaration of undying love. I flexed my fingers and swallowed, and stared at that damned screen, waiting for the bleep of a return message, telling myself he probably wouldn't even get it until he had a spare minute and--

The phone blipped. The message appeared: Ditto.

"Ditto?" I whispered, a laugh caught in my throat. "Seriously? Ditto?"

A second blip. A smiley face.

I muttered under my breath, calling him a few names, even as I couldn't wipe the smile from my own face.

"Adam?"

I nodded as my cheeks flamed. Mom smiled at me, then steered us into the parking lot.

I called Lucas. While he wasn't thrilled with me staying, he understood that this operation had a better chance of success if one of the infiltrators actually knew the parties involved.

Proceed with caution, but proceed.

We were in another coffee shop, sitting in the window, watching a couple approach. They weren't walking hand-in-hand. He didn't have his arm around her waist. No outward sign that they were indeed a couple, unless you looked closer and noticed their hands brushing as they walked.

Mom leaned over the table. "Gotta admit, as good as Clayton Danvers looks from the other side, he looks even better in person." She paused. "Just don't tell Elena I said that." Another pause. "Or your father."

I smiled. "Nothing wrong with window shopping when you aren't looking to buy. Elena's used to it. Clay's the one you don't want noticing you checking him out. He does not take that well. Just ask Cassandra."

Mom made a face. "Vampires."

Clay and Elena walked in. Both are blond with blue eyes. Both were dressed in jeans, sneakers, and T-shirts, none of it less than five years old. It didn't matter. They still looked like they'd stepped out of a magazine spread for Outdoor Living, fresh-scrubbed, athletic and attractive. Both were on the far side of forty, but blessed with a werewolf's slow aging and fast metabolism.

I stood and waved. Clay noticed first. He gave me a blank look. When I smiled and beckoned him over, he scowled and looked away and I had a moment of consternation before I remembered we were still in disguise.

Across the table, Mom chuckled. "You're so right. There's a man who does not appreciate attention, even from cute girls."

Elena looked over at us, and after only a moment's pause, smiled and whispered to Clay. His scowl vanished. I moved over beside Mom and let them take the booth seat across from us.

"Good disguises," Elena said.

"Thank you," I said. "And, as a bonus, I got to see how Clay acts toward the rest of the population. That scowl? Really not attractive."

Elena laughed. "I think that's the point."