Gwen’s stomach rumbled longingly, and Hugh frowned at the trolls. Then he stood again in one decisive movement and left the library for reasons unknown.
As she stared after the demon, oddly bereft, Max rounded on the troll cousins.
His menacing tone prickled the hair at the nape of Gwen’s neck. “You ateallthe food I specifically procured for Edie’s recovery?”
Normally, he’d realize he was being trolled—by, yes, trolls—before losing his shit. The vampire was still too frantic about his beloved’s health to recognize that, though.
Someone had to intervene.
“Kip.” Gwen rubbed her forehead tiredly. “Please tell Max that you and Lorrie didn’t eat everything.”
“You’re a spoilsport, Gwen-my-love,” Kip accused affectionately.
She simply raised her eyebrows at him.
“Fine. Be that way.” The troll turned to Max. “We didn’t eat everything. Most things, yes. Everything, no.”
“Eighty percent of your refrigerator’s contents, max.” Lorrie beamed. “Hey! ‘Max’! Nice!”
Max subsided, his fists uncurling, and Edie reached out a hand to tug him down onto the chaise. He perched on the edge beside her, grumpiness still creasing his far-too-handsome features. Even so, he lifted her hand to his mouth for a soft, loving kiss.
Hugh reentered the room, a food-filled rectangular glass storage dish clasped in his capable hands. Along the way to the settee, he offered both trolls a reproving headshake.
“They didn’tquiteeat everything.” He handed the warm dish to Gwen along with a cloth napkin, a fork, and a bottle of sparkling mineral water. “This is parmesan polenta, according to the label on the lid. Topped with thyme-butter-sautéed chanterelles and roasted chicken.”
“Oh, dear heavens, that looks and smellsincredible.” She beamed up at him in gratitude. “Thank you, Hugh.”
His shoulders subtly straightened. “It was no bother.”
She wanted it so, so much. Before she took her first bite,though, she caught her host’s eye and raised her brows in question. Because if Edie needed the meal—
“You’re fine. I can easily procure more food.” Max flipped over his hand in a graceful gesture, inviting her to eat. “Bon appétit, little oracle. Share with the demon if you must.”
When Gwen offered Hugh the container he’d just placed in her hands, he waved it off and settled beside her again. And this time, they were pressed so closely together that he had to sling his arm over the back of the settee, tantalizingly near her shoulders, to accommodate their new proximity.
She smiled down at her polenta, gentle warmth heating her cheeks, and began eating.
“We’ve wasted enough time.” Sabrina’s voice was sharp enough to carve Gwen’s roast chicken. “Let’s get to the point of this gathering.”
“Agreed.” Hugh’s own tone had turned authoritative. “We need to determine our next steps now, before the conspirators have a chance to regroup.”
“Do you think we managed to stop whatever they meant to do?” Gwen had been wondering that all morning. “I mean, I hope so, but I’m not certain.”
“They were clearly counting on physical and scent evidence to point toward demonic guilt, and all that evidence was either removed or contaminated beyond repair before the officials’ arrival.” Max absently stroked a soothing hand along Edie’s hip over her mountain of blankets, and her eyelids drifted shut. “Then, of course, there’s the video footage. That was probably meant to be the coup de grâce, but Blacke and I showed up and blunted the fatal blow.”
Hugh inclined his head. “They couldn’t have expected either of us to become involved in the official investigation. I may not be universally loved, but my judgment is respected. Despite Boucher’s, uh”—he hesitated—“colorfulreputation and long absence from SERC circles, so is his. Our insistence that demons couldn’t be blamed for the breach should hold sway.”
“Especially since Blacke and I weren’t connected in any way before now. We aren’t known allies.” Max gave an extremely Gallic shrug. “If anything, we’re naturally antipathetic toward each other.”
Hugh’s nod that time was a touch too fervent for politeness.
“That gives our agreement in the matter more weight.” Max tilted his head to indicate his sleeping beloved and spoke more quietly. “Let’s keep our voices down, yes?”
Everyone nodded.
“What if…” Lorrie fished out the last truffle from a silk-ruffled box. “What if the conspirators publicly release the video of demons freeing all the zombies?”
“Boucher and I will find a way to”—Hugh crooked his fingers—“provethat the footage is doctored, and we’ll publicize that finding heavily.”
