His name was Hugh Blacke. He was now her fake demon boyfriend, and she was far too likely to fall for him when she really, really shouldn’t.
In short, she was screwed. Not in the fun way either.
—
Idle for themoment, Gwen sat on her quilt and shamelessly eavesdropped.
Frankly, there was a lot happening. At the order of their commander—Blair Herka, the military officer with the graying bob who was, in fact, a general—troops had begun to reemerge from inside Wall One, where they evidently hadn’t located any zombies or damning evidence. They were now fanning out to widen the search and help any Zone residents in need.
Kip was icing his abused testicles with the frozen packs he’d been using to keep his gelato cool. Eleni Wongel, a vampire councilor who’d eagerly volunteered to interview the bare-chested troll, was providing him succor of the flirting variety between queries. Lorrie lingered nearby, happily devouring Kip’s gelato as she waited for her own interview. Her account of events, like Gwen’s, didn’t seem to be a high priority for the gathered officials.
Then there was Hugh.
Hugh, who periodically turned to check on Gwen’s continued well-being while Tanielle Beech, the SERC chair, questioned him.
Hugh, whose crop top had been torn irreparably down the center by Kip’s massive fist. The troops should play “Taps” for that top. Its service to the world had earned the distinction.
Hugh, who’dkissedher. Although she’d recovered her common sense at some point and was doing her best not to think about that.
“When—” He mopped at his bloody nose with the pristine white handkerchief provided by his fellow demon councilor and apparent mentor, Josiah Goodling. “When did you finally hear about the situation inside the Zone? And how?”
He was questioning his colleagues fully as much as they were questioning him. Their willingness to let him do so, even under these circumstances, told Gwen a great deal about his growing power and pristine reputation on the Council. She could only hope his tawdry display of fisticuffs and passionate smoochery wouldn’t lessen that power or ruin that enviable reputation.
“An unidentified Zone resident launched a jerry-rigged drone over Wall Four shortly after dawn this morning and managed to alert authorities as to the breach.” Councilor Beech’s pointed ear tips twitched. “We contacted the common human government, requested military support, and came as soon as we got the news. Far too late to do much good, of course.”
Goodling sighed and dragged a hand through his snowy-white hair, between his horns. “We’d been told the Zone was experiencing a simple communications and infrastructure glitch, which was being handled by the appropriate authorities. Now that we know the truth, my people have been hunting for the source of that information. It was theoretically sent by an officialwho doesn’t actually exist, from a governmental email address that’s no longer in service. So far, at least, my investigators have reached a dead end.”
Gwen chewed thoughtfully on a handful of now-cold popcorn.
Drones had never been permitted in the Zone. Officials had designated the entire area restricted airspace, probably because they didn’t want footage of the zombies to circulate and remind constituents of the continuing threat.
So, had a resident truly snuck drone components through the Zone’s entry checkpoint? Or had one of the conspirators decided to launch the next phase of their plans and made up a fictional resident, complete with a fictional drone?
“That’s the sum of our very limited information.” Goodling’s silver hair ruffled in the wind when he offered Hugh an encouraging nod. “Now tell us whatyouknow, lad.”
Before Hugh could say anything, the SERC chair raised a long, slim, imperious finger. “You can begin by explaining how you got here, Blacke. We spoke only yesterday at SERC headquarters, and there’s been no access to the Zone for days. Even if your entry had been freely permitted, I’m struggling to understand why you’d visit a place like this, wearing something likethat.”
She scanned Hugh’s clothing, her lip curled in distaste. To his credit, Hugh didn’t flinch or even fasten his leather jacket to cover his naked chest. Instead, shoulders back, blood still oozing from his nose, he met the fae’s judgmental gaze with his one good eye and…
Yeah. Hereallywasn’t good at lying. Like,at all.
“Ummm…” He paused. For at least five seconds too long. “Uh, yes, Councilor Beech, I suppose it does seem…out ofcharacter, as it were…for me to be here. But I got…well,concerned, I guess…when several days passed and I couldn’t get in touch with my, uh, my…”
He hesitated, hisSemper rectiorinstincts clearly troubling him. But as Caesar himself might have told the demon, it was too late. The moment Hugh threw a punch at Kip in a crop top as various SERC councilors watched, the Rubicon had most definitely been crossed.
And if that hadn’t done the trick, his tongue in Gwen’s mouth definitely had.
“I’m his girlfriend,” she announced for him, because she couldn’t stand it any longer.
Beech and Goodling turned to stare at her with evident surprise, and she couldn’t figure out why. Did they imagine her incapable of contributing to the discussion? Or had they truly not understood that she must be the human woman Hugh had been very ostentatiously fighting over, even after he’d swept her into a heated embrace and Frenched her?
Withering under the officials’ scrutiny, she gave them a weak smile and a tiny, pathetic little wave from her spot on the quilt.
“Yes. Gwen is my girlfriend.” This time, Hugh didn’t falter over the designation. It was a firm statement, and it drew the other councilors’ attention back to him. “I had a friend teleport me into the Zone this morning to check on her, since there was no other usable means of communication.”
“I don’t…” Beech’s pale brows drew together. “How did you even meet someone like…” After a pregnant—ha!—pause, she rephrased. “How did you even meet her?”
After Gwen’s involuntary glance down at her lumpy sweater, torn leggings, and oversized cargo shorts, she had toacknowledge the justice of Beech’s question. A wealthy, powerful demon like Hugh would normally never encounter a human of such utter insignificance. Not up close, anyway.
