Without a word, he’d pulled on heeled leather boots and an oversized silver-studded leather jacket, and that was when she’d finally recognized the homage. His beard had thrown her off for a minute—a thin mustache would have been more accurate—and the shockingly carnal appeal of his narrow frame had fogged her poor beleaguered brain, but now she knewexactlywho his sister had hoped he would be for Halloween.
Punch-drunk with fatigue and delight, she’d produced her best falsetto. “You don’t have to be byoooo-ti-ful—”
“No,” he’d said.
She’d obediently zipped her lips. But because she couldn’t help herself, she’d kept sneaking glances at her own personal Prince—fresh from his iconic “Kiss” video—as they’d taken a circuitous, camera-avoiding route around the back of his apartment building, gathered the trolls, muddied his license plates, and piled into his car. Just as she was staring now from the discreet dimness of his passenger seat.
With the ladder carefully secured, Hugh turned on his heel and headed back toward the vehicle. His eyes met hers directlythrough the windshield. Cheeks aflame, she swiftly averted her gaze and hoped like hells that he hadn’t noticed her ogling.
In a flustered rush, she pushed open the car door and hoisted herself to her feet, stretching as she cast a quick glance around. A thick stand of bare-branched oaks and poplars stood between the nearest street and his vehicle, and he’d tied a large snowy-white handkerchief around his side mirror as if to indicate that his car had merely broken down at that particular spot. Far off the road, behind the trees. Directly in front of a large hole in the notoriously impermeable security wall. Which would now have a ladder propped beneath it.
Yeah, that handkerchief wouldn’t fool a toddler. But it was an endearing attempt at subterfuge from a male who didn’t seem to have much recent experience in the art. Hopefully Sabrina’s friend would come quickly to repair the damage once they were done using the opening she’d created.
In the chill air, each breath exited his mouth in a puff of seeming smoke as he drew near. Very fitting for a demon.
“Hey.” Even her most hushed whisper created a tiny cloud of her own. “Thanks for letting me rest.”
“Thank you for resting.” His butt flexed distractingly in his tight black pants as he leaned inside her passenger door and stretched out an arm to turn off the car. “The trolls have all your supplies. Are you able to climb the ladder?”
She barely managed to look away from his ass before he reemerged with his keys, quietly closed the door behind him, and locked the vehicle. “Sure.”
She didn’t love heights, and lingering dizziness might throw off her balance a bit, but if she moved cautiously, she’d be fine. Probably.
A lower hole would’ve been blessedly easier to access, and Max and Sabby were almost entirely certain they’d killed all the zombies. Gwen and the trolls had asked Sabby’s witch friend to create an aperture higher up on the wall, though, just in case. If any stragglers existed, the creatures’ inability to use a ladder would stop them from taking advantage of the hole and wreaking bloody havoc on the North American continent.
It had been the right decision, without question. Still: Climbing through the hole had sucked the first time, and Gwen figured it would suck just as much this time too.
The pale, rising light of near dawn illuminated the path to the wall, but she still tripped over a fallen branch in her haste. Before she could fall, though, Hugh was there, his hot, strong hands gripping her shoulders to keep her upright.
“Thanks,” she said breathlessly.
He merely nodded. Then he stretched an arm behind her, close enough to her back that his body heat bled through her sweater and warmed her own skin, and paused in silent question.
Gratefully, she accepted the offer of continued support. As soon as her arm slipped around his waist, his circled her shoulders like the world’s most delicious-smelling weighted blanket and guided her onward.
“The trolls don’t even need the ladder.” When she shivered in the wintry morning chill, he eased her even closer. So close that her hip pressed firmly against his and her breath hitched in involuntary reaction. “They can just haul themselves through the hole. And I assume you’ll teleport to the other side?”
She’d never witnessed the phenomenon in person, but she’d learned about that particular demonic talent at school. Their inborn ability to rearrange the atoms of living creatures, whichallowed them to turn their enemies inside out, also let them easily transport themselves anywhere they wanted to go. Transporting others, though, evidently sapped a great deal of their power, so she wasn’t expecting a ride through the wall from Hugh. Alas.
He didn’t answer her question for a few strides. “I’m a half-demon, with a human father. I can’t teleport.”
His brusque tone discouraged further inquiries, so she didn’t offer any.
As Gwen and Hugh approached the wall, the trolls leapt skyward, easily boosted themselves through the hole, and dropped down to the other side, squabbling all the while about whether Wagyu beef was an acceptable alternative to Kobe beef for less-special occasions.
During a brief break in the argument, Lorrie shouted from the other side of the wall, “We’ve got the ladder set up on this side too! And if something goes wrong, we’ll help get you down safely, oracle-bro. No worries!”
“Thanks!” Gwen called back, hopefully at a more moderate volume.
Slowly, with what seemed like reluctance, Hugh dropped his arm from around her shoulders. His gentle palm at the small of her back urged her toward the ladder.
After doffing her wig and sunglasses, she turned away from him to shove both items down inside her capacious bra for safekeeping. Took a deep breath for courage. Then, placing her feet and hands carefully, began making her way up the rungs.
“You’re doing great.” He’d positioned himself at the base of the ladder to keep her safe, and his quiet voice contained a surprising amount of warmth. “Take your time.”
The first part was easy enough. By the time her head reachedthe bottom of the hole, she could see the outstretched hands of both trolls, who were hovering expectantly on the other side of the thick stone wall. But next came the hard bit: getting off the ladder and through the jagged hole, with its uneven surface and rocky crags, so high in the air. What if she miscalculated and—
“I’m holding the ladder steady, Gwen.” The utter calm of Hugh’s voice soothed the worst of her burgeoning anxiety. “Crawl through, and your companions will take care of the rest.”
